THE MAIDS
The year was 1967; I was just 19 years of age. Nova Scotia seemed like a century away as I waited for the big, noisy city bus. Atlanta was a bustling, prosperous place and I felt excited to be part of its new growth. We lived just 20 to 30 minutes north of the city in an affluent town called Sandy Springs, saving our money to buy a car.
We were both from the old school and paid cash for everything or did without.
The bus stopped and I climbed on board to sit in the front row. I noticed, as usual, that all of the black folks were seated down back. They no longer HAD to but chose to; maybe from habit? Fear?
Most all of the people on the bus headed to Atlanta after 4 pm were "Maids" who worked for white families. They looked hot & tired & sometimes nodded off. Usually, they would have one or two large bags of 'stuff' from the white houses they worked in. I would see whole chickens and fresh vegetables from a garden as well as many fresh watermelons and peaches.
As the old, smelly bus headed towards Atlanta, each stop would be to pick up middle aged black women, some still in their Maids uniform. They seemed to all recognize one another but seldom spoke aloud.
I sat beside such a woman once and she smiled back but wasn't having any part of my conversation. I picked up my book to continue reading and she said "Waz dat you studyin' ?" I told her it was a novel but she just looked at me with a blank face. It was then I realized she probably couldn't read.
All up and down the streets where the bus'es traveled, women waited patiently. Some had to transfer to other bus'es in order to get to their homes or apartments. I overheard a lady tell another that she caught a 4 am bus in order to get to her white lady's house by 7 o'clock when she had to prepare their breakfast.
If one were to take away all of the Maids riding bus'es, there would not be any need for more than a few bus'es. The bus would be so full, there was standing room only by the time we reached Peachtree St. The women stood holding on for dear life with their full bags of goodies between their legs.
This was before pants on ladies and so they all usually looked alike in a black or white uniform, heavy shoes and often, a hat.
If one were to be on the roads in the morning, one would see no-one at the bus stops in our neighborhood as they would all be getting off a bus from Atlanta. It was completely opposite in the afternoons with many black women waiting for their bus after a very long, hot day at work.
Once, I had my little girl with me and she saw all of them on the bus. We sat down and in a loud voice, she said: "Look at all the chocolate people, Mommie!!" Fortunately for me, they smiled.
As we continued to live in & around Atlanta, Georgia, it was common for the black Maids to have a vehicle provided by the white family. When my Landlord's Maid had to stop working, I purchased her car from them. They always called that car by her name "Inez" so I did too. It was a 1967 Ford Falcon....
These ladies were strong, hard workers who loved the white "young'uns" that they cared for as if they were their own. I like to think it was returned by the children. After caring all day for a white family, they had to return to their own homes to do the same work there.
I heard the name "Inez" recently and I half-way expected to see a red ford falcon......memories of another time, another place.........
People were saddened
