What Health Reform Will Deliver – This Year
by The White House

In this week’s address, President Obama describes how American families will have more control over their health care this year, after health reform passes.

Watch the address below:

Dear God, Please Don’t Let Mo’Nique Win an Oscar
by L. Arthalia Cravin

The last first-run movie I saw was “What’s Love Got to Do With It.” I saw it in 1993 in Los Angeles at a theater on Hollywood Blvd. Angela Bassett didn’t win an Oscar but she should have for playing the multi-faceted and complicated role of Tina Turner. I chose not to watch the movie “Precious” although I read lots of reviews. One review said that Precious included every stereotype about black folks imaginable including, eating greasy fried chicken, incest, absent fathers, out of wedlock births, extremely vulgar head-rag wearing black women, abusive mothers competing with daughters over the same man, rampant community illiteracy, lazy trifling black men, obesity, cursing and verbal abuse, bullying, child abuse, lack of proper mothering of children, just to name a few. One review said that “Precious” made D. W. Griffith’s “The Birth of a Nation” look like a good movie about black folks. On the other hand there are those who claim that “Precious” brought the issue of familial sexual molestation out into the open to help free so many who were living in shame or dark closets about this type of abuse. Many others say that it is the Oprah, Tyler Perry production money that has pushed an otherwise bad movie up the ladder to at least five Oscar nominations.

Whatever anyone thinks of Precious as racist stereotyping or as “art imitating life,” it is up for Oscars for Best Picture, Best Actress (Gabourey Sidibe); Best Supporting Actress (Mo’Nique), Best Director (Lee Daniels); Best Film Editing (Joe Klotz), and Best Writing-Adaptation of a Book to a Screenplay ( Geoffrey Fletcher). I just don’t want Mo’Nique to win best supporting actress because she is one out of control, don’t know what to say, or how to say it with style and grace, open-mouth-insert foot actress. And I am being kind.

Read more »

Steppin’ “White Sisters”
by L. Arthalia Cravin

The air waves are abuzz since a white sorority from the University of Arkansas chapter of Zeta Tau Alpha, a predominantly white sorority, won the inaugural Sprite Step Off stepping competition, beating two predominantly black sororities. The contest was held on February 20, 2010 in Fayetteville, Arkansas and the first place prize was $100,000. After giving the “white sisters” first place, the sponsor acknowledged some type of discrepancies in judging and ordered that the first place prize be shared with the top black sorority.

The ongoing debate, including a whole slew of blogs and commentary, is over the fairness of judging the step moves, whether a white sorority should have been allowed to enter in the first place, and whether a traditional black form of sorority and fraternity initiation has been diminished, or compromised, after what the “white sisters” did.

The various and sundry blogs and commentary have ranged from judging’ bias and fascination with the white women, thus giving them the first prize, a type of reverse discrimination, to “who invited them anyhow?” Either way, the “white steppers” will be steppin’ some more real soon in an upcoming MTV program of some type. All of which points to the real reasons for the underlying rancor.

I attended Texas Southern University in Houston from 1965 to 1967, then went to the U of Wisconsin in Madison for a year of exchange student study. Before leaving TSU, I pledged Alpha Kappa Alpha (AKA) sorority. I was “on the line” for all of three weeks before I took that little pot of ivy plant and told them where to stick it. Part of my disenchantment with having pledged a sorority was my basic aloneness. I was never a groupie. So, within a week of pledging, I realized that a lot of what was required was not for me. I could not see myself washing some “big sisters” underwear, and engaging in a lot of other demeaning “on the line” groupie activities, including step dancing before a large boisterous crowd in TSU’s “The Pit.”

Read more »

The Poverty Formula: We’re Po’er Than We Really Are
by L. Arthalia Cravin

The current March/April issue of AARP Magazine has an interesting article entitled “Living on the Edge, about how, and who, determined who is, or who is not, living in poverty. According to the magazine, during the 1960s a Social Security Administration economist named Mollie Orshansky took the cost of a bare-boned diet, multiplied it by three, and created the basic formula for measuring poverty. Her formula was pegged to the cost of food because, during the 1960s, what people paid for food was roughly one-third of the household budget. Fast forward 50 years and we are still using Orshansky’s formula for setting poverty guidelines.

The article includes example of families and individuals dealing with a range of budget-busting issues, or people “under financial siege,” such as a sudden and catastrophic illness, lost of job, expensive medications, and high health insurance costs. Each of the examples contains heart rendering stories of how various individuals who believed that they were going to retire in comfort, are now facing poverty that they never imagined. Still, because of the “poverty formula,” several of these individuals don’t qualify for assistance programs. What the article strongly suggests is that the “poverty formula” should be revised and revamped to more accurately reflect today’s costs of living, including food, clothing, shelter, and out of pocket medical expenses. If the true cost of living today were to be included in the formula, the articles suggests that the poverty rate for the elderly would jump from 9.7 percent to 18.7 percent, and for a place like New York where housing costs are higher than in other parts of the country, the general poverty rate would jump from 18 percent to 32 percent. So why not change the formula?

Read more »

The Olympic Spirit, the Spirit of Bipartisanship, and Health Reform
by The White House

The President takes a moment to congratulate our Olympic athletes. Discussing the unity and pride Americans feel in cheering them on, the President relates that sentiment to his own desire for bipartisanship in Washington. He praises the recent bipartisan meeting and talks about moving forward on health reform.

Watch the address below:

Women’s Skirt-tails and Amarillo’s First Streets and Sidewalks

What follows is the first column of joint columns about streets and sidewalks in Amarillo.

by L. Arthalia Cravin

The adage that “behind every successful man is a woman” also applies to every sidewalk and every street in America. To put it bluntly, there would be no sidewalks, no brick streets, and no paved streets anywhere in America were it not for women—or should I say women’s skirt tails.

Amarillo’s 122-year evolution from “Ragtown,” a camp of about 500 souls, to the settlement of “Oneida” near the Ft. Worth and Denver City railroad, to its current population of 175,000, followed the same pattern of growth as most American towns. The streets and sidewalks that meld a city into a contiguous expanse all began as dusty trails that later became dirt streets for horses and horse drawn vehicles. Early photos of these dirt trails and passageways often show little more than deeply cut ruts carved by wagons and assorted animal hooves. For the men who rode horses and/or drove horse drawn vehicles, rain meant navigating these deeply cuts grooves reduced to a nasty concoction of muck and mire. For women, rain, and even dry weather, meant something entirely different.

Since the beginning of time one of the primary duties of women has been to keep people and things clean. Women have beat dirty clothing on rocks, sloshed heavy britches and coveralls up and down in wash pots, caught rain water dripping from roof tops, and walked miles toting water from creeks and streams to fill dishpans and tin tubs all for the sake of cleanliness. Few people have truly understood the enormity of the challenge facing women to live up to the maxim “cleanliness is next to godliness.” This was particularly truly given the clothing women were required to wear while performing a hundred and one different chores.

The pioneer women who followed men in “every which a direction,” including into the Texas Panhandle, did not do so wearing flip flops, tank tops, and cut-off jeans. Even in the hottest of Panhandle summers, women wore layers of garments under long heavy dresses. This attire was consistent with the notion that women should dress modestly—which often meant that ankles and necks had to be concealed behind high collars and dresses that swept the floor. Observance of modesty continued even in the dark where women often slept in layers of long nightgowns with their heads covered with nightcaps. A typical Day Dress of the late 19th century looked something like this—and herein lies the connection to streets and sidewalks.

The first brick street in the world was laid in Charleston, West Virginia on October 23, 1870. It is no co-incident that this event coincides precisely with long, skirt-tailed, women’s clothing. The connection between these long skirt tails and the laying of brick streets curiously has never been made by historians. (For an excellent article on Amarillo’s brick streets, as well as a history of streets development in Amarillo, please read “Brick Streets Helped Build Amarillo,” by Debra A. Parker, Amarillo Globe News, May 17, 2001; http://amarillo.com/stories/051701new_brickstreets.shtml.)

Ms. Parker’s article chronicles Amarillo’s street development, including its 16 or so miles of brick streets still in use. Still her thoroughly researched article makes no reference to the role of women’s clothing in ushering in Amarillo’s brick streets and sidewalks.

A few years ago during my tenure as chairman of the Anderson County Historical Commission in Palestine, the topic of how some Texas towns got their names came up. I was curious about where the name Quitaque came from. In spite of various historical resources attributing the name to the Native American language meaning “end of the trial, “ or the early settler’s meaning “whatever one steals,” someone on the board said that “quitaque” actually referred to the stuff that came into the house on the bottom of one’s shoe. So, instead of the woman of the house saying “go outside and wipe that_____ off your feet,” someone on the board said that she used the word “quitaque” instead of what would ordinarily appear in the blank. True or not, the story brought a moment of levity to an otherwise dull board meeting. But I do believe that there is a kernel of truth somewhere in the “quitaque” story.

The Day Dress shown above clearly shows a “train” or long shirt-tail dragging the floor. When pioneer women performed their outside household duties– in the chicken yard, in the barnyard milking the cows, or running errands down dirt streets, their dress tails often swept across, not only the dirt, but also whatever else happened to have fallen or been left behind in the dirt. It requires little imagination to conjure up images of expectorations, consisting of sputum of assorted bodily fluids or tobacco substances, horse, chicken, and pig droppings, and some human residues left behind. On a daily basis a woman’s skirt tail came into contact with all manner of “uncleanness” that she carried into her home, especially her kitchen. Now consider the “after the rains” filthy brew of muck and mire that made its way into many a pioneer kitchen attached to a woman’s skirt tail. It was only after much fussing and fuming to husbands and local town officials by angry women about their filthy skirt tails that something was finally done. What was done was the construction of wooden sidewalks and brick streets.

Not too long ago while making a presentation of the recently discovered first cookbook written by an African American woman (written in 1866), I suggested that the audience read a book entitled, “When Hens Crow: The Woman’s Rights Movement in Antebellum America,” by Sylvia Hoffert. Ms. Hoffert’s book documents the various types of early resistance to women’s demand for equal rights. The titled was taken from a northern newspaperman’s observation about the women who gathered in Seneca Falls, New York in July 1848. He attributed the women’s demand for equal rights as little more than “hen’s crowing.” To silence these “crowing hens” male hecklers were often dispatched to the various conventions to shout down any woman who tried to speak. Such treatment was commonplace. The overlooked role of women’s skirt tails in laying the foundation for streets and sidewalks in America is consistent with the “overlooking” of women’s other contributions to American society. Their role in the creation of sidewalks and brick streets is but one example of the many inventions and developments that we enjoy because women dared to protest the state of affairs as they were.

Now read on for the second of these two columns:

100 Years Later–Sidewalks on North Hughes:
A Study in Black and White

100 Years Later–Sidewalks on North Hughes: A Study in Black and White
by L. Arthalia Cravin

Amarillo’s business and residential developments have generally followed the direction of growth of primary corridors and streets, including the railroad. The question of whether “people demands push developers or whether developers push the people” is akin to asking which came first the chicken or the egg. Whichever, we know that Amarillo’s growth pattern has “tended” in certain directions and not others.

Amarillo’s first settlers put down their stakes in 1887 near the watering hole known as Wild Horse Lake. The adjacent flat area just off what is now Amarillo Boulevard and North Hughes was the starting point for Amarillo. Unfortunately this low-lying area was proned to frequent flooding, so around 1890 the town moved eastward to its current location. What is now the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial Park is the starting point for Amarillo. From a mud hole on the side of a creek, Amarillo has grown to its current expanse of almost 89 square miles and 174,000 souls.

From 1890 to 1910 Amarillo’s streets were dirt passageways with an occasional wooden sidewalk. According to Ms. Parker’s article mentioned above, in 1910 voters approved $75,000 to pay for paving 28 blocks with brick. If you drive near downtown Amarillo you can experience history as your car rumbles across the still existing 16 miles or so of these brick streets, known by a variety of names. How some of Amarillo’s first streets got their names has been the topic of several Amarillo Globe-News’ articles. An article dated June 27, 1948 entitled, “It’s all Very Simple—Our Streets Are Named for Just About Everything,” says this: When the town grew beyond is original plat, it went first to the west and three streets were named for local people. J. E. Hughes laid out the Hughes Addition to the city and named its first street for himself.–then came Hayden, named for B. B. Hayden, Amarillo pioneer and city marshal and father of George Hayden, veteran Amarillo peace officer. Hughes, longtime Potter County sheriff, named the third street for Frank Ong, another local officer.” The article then identifies the streets and their directions named for Texas heroes, including the glaring omission of Sam Houston. The article then identifies the streets named for the presidents, including the willful omission of Rutherford B. Hayes, whom many thought stole the presidency. The article then recites the history of various other streets including Wolflin, Line, San Jacinto, and T-Anchor.

Of all the streets identified I was particularly interested in Amarillo’s first street, Hughes Street. J. E. (John Edward) Hughes was sheriff and tax collector Potter County (when the two offices were combined) from 1899 until 1910. According to a biographical article written by a Mrs. Hughes Seewald, Hughes was born in Alabama in 1852. His parents, born in South Carolina and Georgia moved to Red River County, Texas in 1872. Hughes worked in a general store and later purchased it. He married in 1878 and later moved to Potter County where he bought land, platted it, then built houses for sale and for rent. (J. E. Hughes was Sybil Harrington’s grandfather.) According to the article, Hughes built his own home between Washington and Hughes between Fifteenth and Sixteenth Avenues. If you travel east on Hughes you know that Hughes Street becomes Adams Street and further east turns into Washington. Going westerly, Hughes becomes Broadway at the Amarillo city limit at NE 24th. According to MapQuest, there are exactly two miles of distance between NE 24th at Hughes going easterly to where Hughes becomes Adams around 6th Street. (I think it’s further than that, but never mind.) Whatever the distance, what happened to Hughes Street between Amarillo Blvd and NE 24th is a study in black and white.

The area, known as North Heights, which lies on both sides of Hughes Street between 24th and Amarillo Blvd has a history worthy of repeating. The city park known as Bones Hooks Park is located at 20th and North Hughes. The park is named for Mathew “Bones” Hooks. A brief biography of Bones Hooks would read that he was born to slave parents in 1867 in Robertson County, Texas, that he started work as a driver of a butchers meat wagon at age seven, became one of the first cowboys to work alongside whites as a ranch hand, raised and broke horses that no one else could ride, operated a grocery store in Texarkana, established one of the first black churches in West Texas, came to Amarillo in 1900 and worked as a hotel porter, then worked as a porter for the Santa Fe Railroad, retired from the railroad in 1930, became a civic leader, established the Dogie Club to reduce juvenile delinquency, was the first African American to sit on a grand jury in the Texas Panhandle, sent dozens of white roses to deserving individuals, and passed away in 1951 at the age of 83. This short biography however cannot do justice to Bones Hooks’ contributions; because, what is often not mentioned in much detail is Mr. Hooks’ role in the creation and settling of African Americans in Amarillo’s North Heights.

According to the 2005 book written by Todd Bruce entitled, “Bones Hooks: Pioneer Negro Cowboy,” finding a separate location for Amarillo’s black population was a major concern for Bones Hooks. In a chapter entitled, “A Negro Town Out on the Prairie: The North Heights Story,” there were “16 or 17 blacks in Potter County in 1900. This number jumped to 149 in 1910 and over 300 in 1920.” (Amarillo’s general population had grown from around 15,000 in 1920 to 43,000 in 1930.) Many of the black residents lived in the Flats in and around 3rd Street and Buchanan and worked as domestics for wealthy whites. Many others however, operated rooming houses, cafes, shine parlors and worked for the hotels, railroads, and other businesses. With the increase in the population, the Flats became overcrowded, but in addition, racism reared its ugly head leading to a range of harassment and other abuses from local whites toward African Americans. During this same time period Bones began investing in real estate in the area known as Miller Heights, just west of the Flats where no one lived. According to Todd, Bones was the first black person to purchase property outside of the Flats and the first black person to make Amarillo a permanent home.

During the 1920s, the vacant land now known as North Heights was part of some 100 acres to the north that was for sale. According to Todd, part of the land had been platted for the Texas State Normal Teachers College, later West Texas A & M University. Instead of locating to the north vacant land, the school chose to locate in Canyon. Bones seized upon the opportunity not only to purchase very desirable land that had a sloping upward topography, but also to move blacks away from the increasingly racist whites near downtown Amarillo. The land was owned by J. O. and Maude Whittington and was for sale for $25,000 with a down-payment of $8,500. Although he was financially able to do so, Bones chose not to purchase the land outright because he did not want the black residents to think he was profiting off them. He turned to Mayor Bivins to help with the purchase and they shook hands on a deal. Bones then set about to convince the black residents of the Flats to buy lots to the north where there was no electricity, water, gas or transportation. On top of this hard sell, Bones had to contend with opposition from, 1) the all white North Amarillo Civic Club (NACC) that wanted to develop and beautify North Amarillo, 2) the white Buchanan Street Methodist Church concerns that their parishioners had to pass through a mostly black area to go to church, and 3) concerns that the white Presbyterian Children’s Home would have to move to avoid close proximity to blacks. In spite of tremendous opposition, Bones set the “pioneer” example and moved north himself, opening a drug store and purchasing a home at 15th and Adams. The North Heights Land Company was formed, over time the North Heights area was annexed to the city, infrastructure development commenced, and, as they say “the rest is history.” But it is a history that unfolded hand in hand with America’s larger, “separate and unequal history,” and a history that is still being played out in North Heights.

A recent posting on the website mentioned that after too many nears of requests and neglected requests, sidewalks will be installed along North Hughes. A week or so ago I noticed what appeared to be some kind of sidewalk ground works at the corner of 12th and North Hughes. My first response was “lipstick on a pig.” (I also wondered who got the bid and how much money from this project will flow directly into North Heights residents’ pockets.) The reason why” lipstick on a pig” was my first utterance took me back to my first summer in Amarillo, June, 1964 when I came to Amarillo from Palestine, Texas to earn money for school clothes. I was sixteen and lived with relatives about three houses off North Hughes on 17th Street. The house has since been demolished. I tried several jobs before landing one that lasted the entire summer. My first day at Amarillo Linen Company was a disaster. While I was pulling hot sheets through a feeder I fainted and was sent home. I next went to the Blackburn’s Brothers Department Store on Polk Street where I got a job “busting table,” on the mezzanine. What I remember most of this short experience were the grilled cheese sandwiches (made with finely diced pimento), cut diagonally, placed on a plate with a long wedge of dill pickle, potato chips, and a glass of lemonade, and served to hat-wearing, white-gloved, white women. I don’t recall how long that job lasted, but apparently not long. Next I tried cleaning rooms at a motel somewhere near the current police station. I lasted there one day because the first room I had to clean was filled with young white, foul mouthed, drunk airmen, who had not vacated the nasty room, but who keep teasing me about being cute. I left immediately and never returned. I next went to the Dalton Brother Grocery Store on North Hughes and found work as a stocker and sometimes cashier. (I wrote my first short essay in 1964 entitled, “You Must Adjust,” showed it to my boss who looked at it, tossed it back to me, and told me that I had a better future stocking groceries than writing.) That job lasted until I went back home in late August. I remember my summer of ’64 in Amarillo well because that was the same summer that Buddy Allen pushed me off the diving board at what is now Bones Hooks Park and I never went swimming again.

Over the years I have returned to Amarillo and upon each arrival, including my permanent return of less than a year ago, I have been dismayed with how much the North Heights area seems to have been forgotten and left behind. One year while visiting I called Mayor Seliger almost daily to complain about all the dust from the unpaved streets just off Polk Street near 14th. The street was finally paved as were other dirt streets in the Heights. But back to the sidewalks on North Hughes. Recently I read an article written by a local realtor about how Amarillo’s Wolflin Area developed. This area was platted in 1923, about the same time that North Heights was being eyed by Bones Hooks. According to Christine Wyly’s article, “After World War II, the Wolflin Addition grew along with many subdivisions in other areas of the country. Today, the Wolfin area thrives. Not only is the area an extremely desirable neighborhood to live in, but the Woflin Village/Wolflin Square shopping area to the west on Georgia Street is booming with increased traffic and business. Initially, the shopping center, once at the outskirts of town when it was built in the 1950’s, boomed. However, as Amarillo grew south and west the shopping area experienced a period of decline. Currently though, the Wolflin Village/Wolflin Square shopping area is experiencing a resurgence of business. The area has new banking centers, trendy shops, coffee stores, and restaurants. The re-emergence of a vital area of commerce adjacent to the Woflin Addition has contributed to the increased desirability of the neighborhood as a wonderful place to live. The convenience of the Wolflin Addition’s location is greatly enhanced by its proximity to downtown Amarillo and the interchange of two major interstate highways. Just a few blocks away, the beautiful campus of Amarillo College sits adjacent to Memorial Park.” The articles includes the fact that Amarillo’s current mayor lives in the Wolflin area.

Of course, my thoughts turned to the comparative development of North Heights, along Hughes, a highly trafficked area, but also an area with the best up-sloping topography. What made the difference between this area and Wolflin? Of course I know the answer. A quick search of a Potter County property website includes the names of only four businesses on North Hughes whose combined market value is less than the average of one house in Wolflin, currently estimated at $183,763 or $89.98 per square foot. I pulled the housing data for North Heights from the 2009 Amarillo Housing Report and it shows that in 2009 three houses sold (through a realtor) in North Heights, average price, $32,300, average per square foot price, $30.22. So what will sidewalks add to this picture? One hundred years later, Amarillo’s first street, Hughes Street, is finally getting sidewalks? Is it truly a case of “lipstick on a pig” given the woeful neglect of commercial and residential development along this corridor? What is to be said or done about the clearly unequal concerns for growth and development among Amarillo’s diverse communities? Who cares that one area looks like Soweto, South Africa while another is awash in every possible neighborhood amenity, including paved alleys? Just as the early panhandle women said “enough” to the dirt streets, and dragging their skirt-tails through muck and mire, who will stand up and say “enough” to the basic unfairness of North Heights residents paying the same effective property tax rate as other communities with sidewalks, streetlights, paved alleys, and other amenities? Who will say “enough” of this neglect? When will Amarillo’s “hen’s crow?” A June 20, 1964 Amarillo Globe opinion page contained the following statement in an opinion entitled, “Better Human Qualities Will Solve Race Relations—Not Bitterness:” “The civil rights problem must be solved for economic as well as moral reasons.” The same is no less true for North Heights. Or is North Heights a continuing legacy of Amarillo in black and white?

Copyright 2010 - L. Arthalia Cravin. All rights Reserved. No part of this commentary may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission from the author.

BORGER - Linda March Harley, 59, died Saturday, February 20, 2010, in Amarillo.

Services were at 11 a.m. Friday, February 26, 2010 in First Baptist Church in Borger with the Rev. Steve Taylor officiating. A second service will be at noon Saturday in First Baptist Church in Childress with the Rev. Vurn Martin of Greater Mount Olive Baptist Church of Amarillo and the Rev. James Bradford of Oklahoma City as eulogist. Burial in Childress Cemetery by Warford-Walker Mortuary, 509 N. Hughes St.

Linda was born September 1, 1950, in Amarillo. She was reared in Childress and accepted Jesus Christ as her Savior at an early age while attending St. John Baptist Church.

Linda attended the historical J.J. Rhodes School and graduated in May 1970. She attended Clarendon College. She was employed as a correctional officer in the Texas Department of Criminal Justice for Clements, Bates and Jordan Units until her health failure.

Linda was an active member of First Baptist Church in Borger under the pastorage of Steve Taylor. She especially enjoyed the Sunday school and special music.

She was preceded in death by two husbands, B.C. Cornish and Larry Harley; a sister, Kathy D. March Pride; and her grandparents, Ruby and O.D. Nickerson Sr.

Survivors include a daughter, Ashley Cornish of Borger; her mother and stepfather, Ruby and Willie Smith of Childress; two sisters, Twanda Taylor and husband Mitch and Teresa March, all of Amarillo; and a number of nephews, nieces, great-nephews and great-nieces and many other relatives.