He was always referred to as
The Boss.
Tall and slender,
with warm brown skin
and a regal
yet humble
bearing,
Bearing family secrets
he took to his grave,
He commanded respect,
though his voice seldom
rose above a whisper.
I.
He took his 3rd grade education
and uncanny math skills
from his home
in Calvert County
to West Baltimore,
Settling into a tiny,
three-story rowhouse
(later fitted with Formstone)
on Bloom Street,
with his wife,
an equally tall and regal,
but buxom,
woman
said to have Indian blood—
and the nose and cheekbones
to “prove” it.
Together,
over a span of 19 years
(1912-1931)
they raised
eight children
in the tiny,
four-bedroom house.
His World War I Draft Card,
issued in 1917,
declared him
exempt from serving,
owing to his status
as a head of household.
In those days,
donning knee-high leather boots
and balloon pants,
he rode a Harley-Davidson motorcycle,
toddling his wife
and their young children
in a sidecar.
He was never seen
without a starched shirt,
and only rarely
without a necktie or bolo.
So good with his hands
was he that, over time,
he replaced
the outhouse
in the backyard
with an indoor bath
with full plumbing,
replaced the wood-burning stove
and icebox
with modern appliances,
replaced the wooden floors,
mended the three flights of stairs,
and painted the interior
several times over.
II.
His 48-year employment
with the C & P Telephone Company
was mythical.
From executive chauffer
to trusted courier,
he rose through the ranks,
eventually opening the door
to more Black employees,
vetted by his record and his word
alone,
His friends and children
among the many workers
he entrusted jobs to.
III.
In retirement,
he started a cleaning service,
employing his young grandchildren
to clean C & P phone booths
all over Maryland
(including Scaggsville),
enticing them
with the promise
of a day-old bun
and a Coke,
his favorite beverage.
He’d pile his children,
(and later,
grands and great-grands)
into his pristine, old gray Buick,
fitting the littlest ones
onto the footstools
on the floor in back,
for day trips to amusement parks
and two-week visits to family in Atlantic City
every Summer.
And the Day-After-Christmas
was reserved for the
ever-growing family
dinner and gift exchange
at The House.
IV.
In 1971,
two weeks after
planning and overseeing
a Grand Family Reunion,
The Boss,
Patriarch of 3 daughters,
5 sons,
35 grandchildren,
and 29 great-grandchildren,

took his last breath
and was laid to rest.
His wife joined him,
6 weeks later.

This poem, originally written and published on baltimoreblackwoman.com (August 20, 2019) was premiered during the Labor Day Literary Extravaganza hosted by Rafael Alvarez, at Ikaros Restaurant, September 1, 2019 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OoEPXvYOdHE

by Danuta E. Kosk-Kosicka

Of the many readings Danuta and Chapman and their “Quatrain” quartet gave over the years, one venue was the Ann Street gallery of Minas Konsolas before his move to Hampden, before his ultimate move deep into the canvas without having to work a cash register between brush strokes.

https://thelochravenreview.net/remembering-norma-chapman-my-poet-friend/

Braciole Literary Journal founder Rafael Alvarez — with former Fells Point bookshop owner Stan Modjesky (center) and journalist Tim Prudente (right) — meet with friends at G&A Coney Island Hot Dogs in Highlandtown to gather material for a history of poetry in Baltimore. Photo: Mark Cates