Esau Brown Noble Gwyn, Sr.
“He was 45 when he died. The story goes that he, Noble, went out to plow the field on a sunny, clear day. They say that there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. The next thing anybody knew, he had been struck by lightening on that sunny clear day.” There are other stories that I have been told about this stranger but they are too personal to share. I will say that the one thing that would help bring me closure in the mystery of Noble Gwyn, Sr., is to see a picture of what he looked like. He, Noble Gwyn, St., was my father’s father.
Now, Esau Brown was a different story all together. He was my mother’s father. My granddaddy had a beautiful smile. He was a quiet man and he called us his “chillin.” Granddaddy Esau was a short man and his face showed the weary lines of a life filled with hard work. He and his brothers owned quite a bit of land. They were not one of the typical black country families in that they had property and a great deal of respect among the white community. That alone is a big deal living in a segregated society. Granddaddy Esau had a very respectable job and the income allowed his family to live a relatively comfortable life. Taking responsibility was something he took very seriously. On the other hand, he had a brother who preferred the ‘footloose and fancy free’ life regardless of the consequences. I know that we all have one or two in our families. Well, this brother made a poor choice and my grandfather attempted to help my granduncle. Unfortunately granddaddy was drawn into the consequences of my granduncles’ choice, thus causing granddaddy to lose that respectable job with the nice income. I was told that this took a toll on my grandfather, who was a really good man with a good name according to all that knew him. He was able to obtain another job to support his wife and children because of that good name, but he was never the same. He became old quickly. Pain and disappointment can make you age fast.
My grandfather loved his family and we all knew this even though he spoke very little. He would sit with us for little while when we would go to visit him but eventually he would slip out to the quiet of his room. I can’t blame him because there were a LOT of us. I loved my grandfather and I miss him dearly. He was a little man with a big heart.
If your grandfather is still in your life, spend some time with him. The sands of time do eventually run out. Have a FUNKADELIC FRIDAY to remember.
~~~~ Malinda Gwyn ~~~~