I'll Call It Like I See It

by sheila morris

Category: photography

  • road trip to Francis Marion University!


    What a wonderful reception for Southern Perspectives on the Queer Movement: Committed to Home at Pride Week at Francis Marion University last night! A group of 30 students plus several faculty members gathered in Lowrimore Auditorium to hear four contributors discuss the book and  their individual essays as gay alliance faculty sponsor Dr. Lance Weldy moderated the panel.

    Contributor Pat Patterson was the person who originally suggested the panel discussion with Dr. Weldy since Pat is a regular participant at other Pride events. Dr. Weldy took the idea and ran with it – even giving his English Lit students extra credit for attending the event. (No wonder so many students were furiously taking notes! )

    Pretty listens intently as Dr. Weldy briefs us prior to program

    Pretty, Michael Haigler, Sheila –

    Michael entertained Pretty and me on the road trip from Columbia

    Pat Patterson makes us all smile with his stories

    the old girl in action

    Many thanks to Francis Marion student Amanda Montgomery for the pictures since Pretty was pressed into panel service for the evening. Amanda took pictures in between note-taking so maybe Dr. Weldy will give her extra, extra credit?

    Following the book talk, delicious refreshments were provided, books sold and signed. In the midst of signing books, a young lesbian couple came to tell Pretty they couldn’t afford a book but didn’t want to miss an opportunity to talk to us. Would we sign a piece of paper they could use as a bookmark when they did buy the book later. Of course we were happy to write something for them and as we did, one of the young women told Pretty she had never talked to any lesbians older than 20…what the night meant to her and her girlfriend to hear us talk so openly about being who we are. They live together now and plan to get married when they graduate. Repeat: they plan to get married when they graduate.

    Pat reminded us last night that the students in the auditorium were our hope for the future – no disrespect to us oldies but goodies on the panel but these young people aren’t exhausted from the crusades – they’re just beginning the journey. Some of them will see injustice and become agents of change. Thanks for the reminder, Pat.

    Michael, Lance, Pretty, Sheila, Pat

    Stay tuned.

     

     

  • hello, gorgeous – the memories, the music, the magic of Streisand


    When Ellen DeGeneres introduced Barbra Streisand on her show a week before Christmas, I was a member of her mesmerized TV viewing audience… but felt something was slightly off kilter from the moment Barbra made her entrance. What was wrong, I thought, as Barbra walked over from my right to greet Ellen in the center of the screen with the typical hug, smile and air kiss. Then Barbra sat down in Ellen’s chair while Ellen sat down across from her. I was gobsmacked – never in all my 15 years of watching Ellen’s show had anyone dared to sit in Ellen’s chair.

    I mean, this was like a cosmic shift. I felt my universe begin to rotate counterclockwise.

    But the interview confirmed Barbra has a preferred side to be filmed and unfortunately, it was the same side Ellen liked for herself. However, in the interest of fair play (and obtaining the exclusive interview), Ellen gave up her chair for the Streisand visit – and who wouldn’t? Good move, I agreed.

    The rare television appearance on the Ellen show was to promote Barbra’s new Netflix concert; and sisters and brothers, I was happy to answer her altar call for the holy church of Streisand music during the holiday season.

    Pretty made the mistake of sleeping in later on Christmas morning when I got up to see if Santa Claus had left me anything under the tree and lo and behold, he had. I started a fire in the den fireplace and turned on Netflix to find some Christmas music. The first image I saw was Barbra’s concert she had been talking about on the Ellen show, and I knew I must have been a very good girl to get this surprise from Santa.

    who needs chestnuts roasting on an open fire

    Pretty got up in time to see Jamie Foxx and Barbra sing Climb Every Mountain together after the intermission, and she was hooked, too. They made some majestic music together.

    I have to admit I’ve skipped quite a few football bowl games this year that I normally would never miss – in favor of listening several times to the Streisand concert on Netflix. But when a concert begins with The Way We Were, hang on to your misty water-colored memories and settle in for the musical magic that the incomparable Barbra Streisand has brought to us for six decades…that would be 60 years, but who’s counting.

    Thanks, Santa.

    Stay warm – and stay tuned.

     

     

  • man of Appalachia


    When Walker Williams (83) and his brother Dit (89) go looking for a good time these days, they get in Walker’s car and take a drive north and east of Landrum, South Carolina where Walker lives now toward a tiny holler called Spillcorn in Madison County, North Carolina where both brothers were born…literally…in a home that has stood the test of time deep in the heart of Appalachia.

    no wonder the brothers come back here to their old home place

    yep, Spill Corn is a real place

     Walker’s cousin John offers a drink of cool water to anyone who drops by

    one country store in the back hollers of Madison County

    Walker leads the way inside

    (I think the rice krispie treats were homemade – delicious)

    The little convenience store is like the old general stores – it has a little bit of everything. If you’re on a long drive, you better make a quick stop and visit with Ethel who likes to know who you are, who your people are, and what you’re doing way out here.

    Appalachia unvarnished

    According to our tour guide Walker (who is Pretty’s father btw), the tobacco barns are empty now, the cattle herds smaller and the only source of revenue left for most of the people who have remained in this remote area is logging…raiding their timber to sell down the mountains.

    deep poverty exists in these mountains, and yet an occasional oasis appears 

     

    this road leads to the notorious Appalachian Trail

    thank goodness the “color came late this year”

    pair of goats interested in visitors – any snacks?

     

    another cousin, Robert, cuts his wood for any neighbors

    who might need it in the harsh winter

    a river runs through it…the sounds of rushing water penetrate the stillness

     the barns of Madison County – Walker has asked me to

    make a photo book for him – he already has captions for the images

     

    we’ll have plenty of material for his book

    this man of Appalachia saying goodbye to the mountains for today –

    until next time

    Such a treat to spend the day with Pretty, her dad and sister Darlene in the middle of these magnificent vistas that are an important part of their family history. As my friend Meghan commented on Facebook, “these are the good ol’ days for you.”

    Right on, sister.

     

  • #STAND AGAINST HATE


    corner of Main and Laurel – parade starts here

    where are my peeps?

    where’s our group?

    for sure YOU rock, little sis!

    These girls rock, too – ALL TOGETHER NOW!

    you girls totally rock!

    my chariot for the parade – SC Gay and Lesbian Guild parade entry

    (Thanks to Mar-la-ti-dah (l.) for giving up her ride in the Guild chariot)

    Guild President CC (r.) drove us and served as dj for our fabulous parade music

    (oh, no, she didn’ have ABBA and Dancing Queen  oh, yes, she DID!)

    Robin Ridgell and the Famously Hot Mar-la-ti-dah strategize before parade

    floats getting ready!

    hurry up – don’t be late

    Pretty waiting for Matt Tischler’s Light Brigade to organize

    Baby Tonks’s very first Pride Parade – Mother beaming

    this family walked beside me and made me proud

    Rob is ready!

    Let’s go!

    The Pride Parade made an important statement once again to the city of Columbia and the state of South Carolina as we laughed, sang and chanted our way down Main Street for the first nighttime parade in our history. The crowds on the sidewalk clapped, cheered and waved their own flags to the gays and their families and friends who they knew were taking a stand for equality in a time when equality is under attack by a hostile administration in Washington, D.C.

    I will never forget the older attractive African American woman sitting in a wheel chair on the sidewalk waving a small Pride flag at me as we rode by her. She was smiling with real happiness for what she was witnessing, and that brought tears of joy to my eyes.

    Nothing rained on my parade last night – none of the usual group of protesters appeared – and my last view as we left Main Street was my favorite float.

    Stand against hate. All together now.

  • an extra special Tuesday


    The cover of my third book features a family snapshot of my favorite Aunt Lucille who was my daddy’s sister, her daughter Melissa, my mother and daddy, and me.

    I am the child fiddling with my gloves and not looking at the picture-taker, whoever that might be. Probably my Uncle Jay who was my Aunt Lucille’s husband and my first cousin Melissa’s father. He liked to take pictures and had the most impressive camera of anyone in our family so naturally he was the photographer for important occasions like Easter Sunday.

    I was ten years old at the time of the photo, and I’m assuming it was a picture taken right before we went to church for an Easter service at the Richards Baptist Church in Richards, Texas the little town in Grimes County at the edge of the piney woods. Population 500 counting dogs and chickens.

    My mother looked happy – no doubt because she managed to dress me in a ruffled dress, Easter bonnet and, reluctantly, white gloves. My daddy is the one with the crew cut, which I’m sure I secretly envied.

    My Aunt Lucille is the beautiful woman wearing an appropriate corsage with her Easter outfit that included gloves, handbag and hat. Melissa was probably two years old and apparently not too thrilled with either her Easter outfit, the photographer’s efforts, or a combination of irritations as we prepared to go to church that day. She’s the pretty little girl with the frown.

    I love this picture – and I love the people in it.

    Time, distance and the vicissitudes of life, as my daddy used to say, make it difficult to keep in touch with my cousin Melissa who is the only one remaining in this picture besides me. She lives in San Leon, Texas with her husband Tim and their three dogs. San Leon is a small town on Galveston Bay past Houston if you’re driving south toward the Gulf of Mexico and the Galveston beaches. Regardless of where you’re driving, Melissa and Tim live a thousand miles from Pretty and me in South Carolina.

    But today she was in Charleston with Tim who was there on a work assignment and we had made plans to get together. Pretty wanted to take me, but she was still in the business of the final push to clear out Casa de Canterbury since the new owners brought a big ol’ moving van up to the porch today and started unloading. That’s a convoluted story for another day but needless to say, Pretty was overwhelmed with no opportunity to drive me to Charleston at this point in our lives.

    In (and up) stepped my good friend Dick Hubbard who happily agreed to drive me to see my cousin Melissa for an early lunch at her hotel today. Bless his heart. Dick and I have been friends for 30 years but usually meet for lunch in Columbia so we enjoyed the extra time to visit on the two-hour ride down to Charleston and back. Gossip,  the meaning of life, his husband Curtis,  my wife Pretty, pickup trucks were a few of our topics as we drove in a slight drizzle…just enough to require his new windshield wipers every once in a while.

    The visit with Melissa was perfect. We caught up on two years’ worth of current events in our lives since we last saw each other in Texas in the summer of 2015. We talked politics, books, retirement, what Tim was doing, how Pretty was doing – but mostly we talked about the other three people in the book cover picture who are no longer here and how much we both miss them.

    Melissa and I share the solitude of being “only children” and what that means when we have lost our parents and grandparents. Neither of us has children of our own – Melissa’s daughter died many years ago of cystic fibrosis.

    But today was a joyful day because we could talk together about the people we both knew and loved when we were growing up: we are each other’s people after all. Sixty-five years of family history are ties that will always bind us, regardless of the years between visits or the distance of a thousand miles that separate us today. Thank goodness for facebook.

    Both of us actually knew the people we were talking about; and that’s a happy thing, as Melissa likes to say.

    This was an extra special Tuesday for me, a day I won’t forget anytime soon…until we meet again.

    Melissa and her playhouse in Beaumont, Texas