maverick.

January 17, 2022

Name: Elaine.

Age: Eternal.

Notes: I took this photograph of my mother, Elaine Ellen Fullwood (she was 3 years away from being divorced and reclaiming her maiden name, Houston) in 1983. She was a CRT operator at Toledo Trust. I think it was summer and I went downtown to have lunch with her.

***

Look at her. Go on. Her hand forever on her hip. Test her if you want, but I wouldn’t. 5’6”, slim, cream colored, large square eye-glasses sit on a broad nose, relatively straight hair sprouting out her head like a swarm of black lightening. Rarely without a cigarette. Had a gift for gab. People liked her. Couldn’t walk a block without someone stopping her to talk about whatever. Was funny. Personable. Made you think you were the only one in the world. Look at her. Born in Ohio during a world war. Came of age when the belt was getting wet and rusty but the bibles never got dusty. Number four in a brood of seven multicolored kids in the once-thought-of-as-free-full-of-opportunity north. Father Jerry worked in construction, or that’s the word, anyway. Her mother Mary cleaned people’s houses. Mary’s mother Beulah also made someone else’s house nicer, and loved to fish. Watch her dissolve. Listen to her imagine for more. Watch her cry. Watch each lit cigarette. Try to smoke one. Choke. Get caught and get hit. Get caught a lot. Get hit a lot. Not watching her clearly enough. Too much smoke. She loved Billie Holiday and Janis Joplin. Midwestern life. 56 years was enough, I guess.

Reference: “Elaine Ellen,” by me, December 9, 2009.

Photo: From Steven G Fullwood Archive.

Words: 277