It was not quite dawn on December 11th, 2025, too early to be awake. I turned over under a weight of covers and willed myself back to sleep where a dream came and I saw my brother, middle-aged and able bodied, getting ready to get on a plane with a […]
I was brought up knowing that my grandparents were West Indian immigrants. I knew my father was born with dual citizenship. It wasn’t until this part of our talks that I realized how it affected him. Earlier you said you didn’t really think of yourself as a child of immigrants despite […]
My father lived on 117th near Lennox, now Malcolm X Boulevard. Many of his stories were about that neighborhood which holds so much romance in the American, especially Black American, historical memory. Let’s talk about Harlem. What was it like on your block, in your corner of the ‘hood? The […]
My father, Reginald W. Major, died just over three years ago. While his passing has left me, his baby girl, with a tremendous void, l recently discovered a collection of audio tapes that we recorded over period of years. This summer I have found myself able to listen to […]
