My Father's Journey to California
- Adagio Dunne
- California by way of Texas
- UNITED STATES
She answered the phone hesitantly, pausing before she said "Hello sweetie". "What's the matter?". I talk to my mother every once in a while. She lives back home in Los Angeles while I'm here in Riverside for school. She's made up in her mind that I would only call her for two reasons: one, to discuss some sort of financial problem and two, something terrible has happened. So when I called her to ask for her assistance in the 'coming to California' story, she was surprised. I guess that means I should call her a bit more just to say 'hey'.
My mother was born in Los Angeles, California, "Never left, never want to, I'm happy here", as she put it. She likes the weather. My father, J Dunne, was born in Dallas, Texas. He passed away when I was two years old; he was an unfortunate victim of lung cancer. I called my mother, B Hill, to hear her take on my father's journey to California. I asked questions such as "What brought him to California?", "What did he do when he arrived?", "Did he ever look back?". She began with his tragic abandonment story.
My father was born to a 15-year-old girl in Dallas Texas almost 60 years ago. You could imagine, given the conditions 60 years ago, what a tragedy having a child at that age was. It was frowned upon, much more than it is now in 2008. It was shameful, a disgrace to the family, my mother told me. Luckily the tools and resources for abortions weren't accessible back then, because as my mother put it, my father would not have been born and neither would I. After my father was born, he was treated with little respect. His family had no regard for the fact that he was a child, alive in his own innocence, not having asked to be born. They treated him as if he purposely cause the disgrace to the family.
After 15 years of being neglected by his own family, my father decided to head to California. Here is where I asked my mother, "Why California?" She answered, "California seemed like the state of opportunity, of sun, a breathe of fresh air, an escape from the South which was infested with racism". So my father, having built inside of him strength and courage, moved to California. He worked as a mechanic. My father loved to work with his hands. He loved to fix things. My mother continued, "I remember that one day, when I needed my brakes fixed, and I didn't want to wait for your uncle to come with me, so I went by myself, and that's where I met you father....I still miss him".
Poem: Sunken low South where dreams seem dry lowered by racism exclusion his tears dried and sorrow was carried away with big massive entangled weeds. he saw hope in the distance of desert mirages it seemed but he continued West the best way he knew how to the place where now he cold pour out dry sandy memories that used to fill his cup and consume the refreshment of California suns and happy tears the never dry up but continue to form into the flow of his new life Into the growth of my life my father gave birth to multiply his dreams and I fly and i dance and I sing and I consume these California suns and kiss my mother on days when she cries or even when she laughs because I know my father would if he were here I live his journey I am his journey