Robert Edward Ludlow Sr., retired army captain, just watched and did not interfere as all eight of his little Ludlow (grand) children all assembled with their friends Velma (11), Milton (9), and Gracie (8) on the Trent front porch. The little Trents' cousin, nine-year-old Vertran Stepforth, was up in a tree getting into position to film.
“There are some generals who don't get this kind of welcome,” the captain noted to his wife, Thalia.
“Well,” she said, “there are some people that have power and prestige the world didn't give them, and the world can't take away. Gladys Jubilee Trent is one of those people.”
Mrs. Trent drove an unassuming little blue car, at least as old as her 21-year-old grandson Melvin Trent, but it ran well and was well-maintained, and she only drove it when necessary, moving over the Blue Ridge from Trent family situations to Jubilee family situations periodically.
But on the Jubilee side of things, she rested, and her son Sgt. Vincent Trent, though clearly a Trent, reflected the choice his father V.T. Trent made at age 16 to refuse to live a life of organized crime moving from moonshining to drug dealing and run to the only freedom he had ever heard of for Black Appalachians – there was a family in Virginia that even the Trents in their power knew they couldn't mess with: the Jubilees-of-the-mountain. Sure enough: after he got to them and explained his situation, they sent word that young V.T. was under their protection, and that was that. In essence, he became a Jubilee, and then married one – Gladys – so their children were raised as Jubilees-of-the-mountain, in peace. In essence, thus, Vincent Trent and his family were on the Jubilee side of things.
Mrs. Gladys Jubilee Trent had loved her husband greatly, and so had continued looking out for those Trent relatives who were working to live a clean life. She also worked with the women and children left behind when crime claimed the men who loved it – and that was some work, spanning three generations of left-behind women. She had put in a lot of work making sure end-of-life needs were met and inheritances got where they would need to go as opposed to all that being co-opted by the greed of other Trents still devoted to evil … the family was failing now, the War on Drugs having now done what V.T. predicted it would and reamed it out over 30 years. Much of the family was fighting over the scraps left – the desperation was intense, but Mrs. Jubilee Trent could wade through it like no one else. The Trents in general hated this, but ...
“They fumed! They fussed! They sat down! They shut up!” Sgt. Trent always said when he heard these stories of how his mother had foiled yet another scheme.
You would never know it, looking at the little car, but you might get a hint when she stepped out – neat, full silver natural hair just catching like fire of lightning in that same sun that caressed her mostly-smooth mahogany skin and made it grow like gold around those big, all-that's-best-of-dark-and-bright brown eyes and on that radiant face with its attention-commanding large nose and full lips. She was wearing an ochre-red sun dress, so her toned arms glowed and her full, tall figure showed itself gracefully as she got out, locked the car, and went into the back for her things – only to be swiftly overtaken by her firstborn son and his firstborn son.
“Mama, we got these,” Sgt. Trent said. “Go on up and rest yourself and sit down.”
“I thank y'all,” she said, and gave them both a hug and a kiss on their foreheads before turning around – and then getting mobbed by twelve little ones under the age of 12, one of whom had left his camera rolling in the tree.
“GRANDMA JUBILEE!”
She had a hug and kiss and homemade candy for each and every one of them, and they all settled down around her on the porch for – you guessed it – a quick story.
“Well, y'all, let me tell you what I saw driving down here to be with y'all today. Out there on the road, somebody decided that since horses and carriages came first, we could all wait with our cars for them to pass. Problem is, even if you have a carriage, it may still need a tuneup, and your horse may decide it has had enough of you not taking care of the business.”
They were all soon laughing heartily as she told them all that happened, and then happily went on to play again in the yard while Mrs. Jubilee Trent greeted her fellow grandparents Thomas and Velma Stepforth.
“There's a billionaire and his wife standing there, and there's a Jubilee-of-the-mountain standing there, and they relate as equals,” Capt. Ludlow said. “You definitely are right, Thalia – what an appearance! I've known generals without that much gravitas!”
“You've known generals without your gravitas,” she said.
“This is true,” he said. “I like the elder Mrs. Trent just because there is reality to her like that … and, her mother and aunts were friends to my Lee grandmother, so I get it.”
By this time they were headed out the door to join the grandparent meet-and-greet, and, for a little while once again, all five involved grandparents with all 12 children would be right there in either the Trent or Ludlow houses, with the Lee yard in the middle graciously allotted as third space for all that energy.
“We are going to see something in these next few weeks, though,” Col. H.F. Lee said to his wife Maggie. “Gracie and Milton are going to settle down, and that will settle George and Edwina down, too – Mrs. Jubilee Trent is another center of calm like we are.”
“More creativity, less kids getting grounded – that's a good thing,” Mrs. Lee said. “I miss seeing George and Milton coming through to work on the jigsaw puzzle.”
“George got to go over to say hi to Grandma Jubilee just like the rest … I suspect that R.E. has quietly just ended all that today,” Col. Lee said. “With Mrs. Jubilee Trent moving in, we're going to see something I could not put words to growing up, but for these kids, there's home, there's third space that we provide, and there's Jubilee space.”
“Is it really that much of a difference?” Mrs. Lee said.
“It really is, because like Horatio Lee, Hubert Jubilee was somebody different,” the colonel said, “and, like Horatio Lee, Hubert Jubilee passed that on and his relatives who moved up into the Appalachians and down south this far all brought that with them. Look at it this way: in 1865, everybody knew Horatio Lee was free to do whatever he wanted. They didn't know Hubert Jubilee was – but he knew.”
“He named himself for freedom, and lived it out – yep, you're right – that's different, Harry.”
“He was from here, you know – his mountain relatives just moved back home in one generation,” Col. Lee said. “And even that just tells you something – they hadn't even taken all the wanted posters down for the Shooting Conductor in 1870 when that happened.”
“These folks are bold!” Mrs. Lee said.
“And they can back it up, too,” Col. Lee said. “Gladys Jubilee Trent walks with all that legacy in her step – and you see how carefully her son brought in what looks like two long umbrellas? Those aren't umbrellas – all that is discreet wrapping for long guns.”
“It's a good thing we have our lives together!” Mrs. Lee said.
“Yep,” Col. Lee said. “Not every day would I say that about a civilian, but Gladys Jubilee Trent represents the Army of the Jubilee, four generations on with generations five and six being named Trent – and we all know how the littlest Jubilee Trent can just rock our worlds on any given morning.”
“Gracie!” Mrs. Lee said, and fell out laughing onto the sofa.
“Her grandmother would say here, 'Now, y'all already have my Juba-child granddaughter showing you the real – y'all shoulda been had your lives together before I came.'”
Mrs. Lee was rolling laughing at this point, to her husband's delight.
Older women of color sure know how to dress, they always impress me with their style. I also can't forget the older men. They also have it going on. I saw an elderly gentleman the other day and thought, 'Wow, he is dressed to the nines.'
!ALIVE
!LOL
That generation knew they represented the reality that they and all their people are fully human and deserve every right as everyone else AND that they had the right to self-expression no matter who had a problem with it!