The Evolution of Crimson. Jerry Aldridge
knew well from her freshman year.
“Hi Winifred. What are you doing here?”
“I came with my mother and little sister to register for summer classes. I need to call my mother, if that is ok with you. She’s in the Union Building. Do you have the number?”
“I know it by heart,” replied Miss Barton, and gave her the number.
Winifred picked up the hall phone and called the Union Building. A voice answered on the second ring and Winifred asked, “I need to speak with a Mrs. Dodd. I know she is there having coffee and doughnuts with my sister and cousin.”
“We don’t take phone calls from students. Just the staff.” Whoever had answered was about to hang up when Winifred quickly replied.
“Please! This is an emergency.”
After a long pause, the voice said, “I’ll try.”
Two minutes later Frances came to the phone and Winifred explained that she was having trouble with registration.
“What seems to be the problem?” asked Frances.
“It is complicated. I will tell you when I see you. Why don’t you and Trisha go on to Helen’s for lunch. I’ll eat something on campus and then I’ll call you when I’ve finished. This could take a couple of hours.”
“Well,” explained her mother, “we are hungry. Call me when you get finished and I’ll meet you at the strip mall where we parked this morning. We’ll see you then.”
“Thanks! I’ll call you.”
“Hmmm,” thought Winifred. She had been so involved in what was going on that she had not realized she was hungry too. In fact, she was famished. She decided to find Miss Barton and ask if she could eat in the dining room. Since she was not staying in the dorm that summer, she would have to pay. She checked her purse and realized she had enough for lunch.
Winifred went looking for Miss Barton. She asked the student at the front desk where she could find her. The student explained Miss Barton was probably in her apartment. Miss Barton had a large apartment on the first floor of Martha Parham Hall. Not wanting to enter Miss Barton’s private quarters, Winifred asked the student if there was any way she could have lunch in the dining room. The student wanted to know if Winifred had her ID.
“Oh yes! I’m going to summer school. I lived here last year and will again this fall, but I’m commuting this summer.”
That was more information than the student wanted to know. She replied, “Well, if you’ve got $2.50 you can have lunch.”
Winifred pulled out $3.00, handed it to the student worker who promptly gave her 50 cents, while simultaneously placing the $3.00 in a cash box.Winifred entered the dining hall; there was hardly anyone there. Eight students were having lunch as she went by each of the silver trays to make her selection. Three students entered the line behind her. Winifred took her tray to an empty table and then went back to get her favorite beverage, sweet iced tea. First, though, she decided to use the bathroom and wash her hands. When she returned, four women were sitting at her table. One of them was Vivian Malone. Stunned, Winifred sat down at the table in silence.
That afternoon, President Kennedy federalized the Alabama National Guard, making them under his command instead of the jurisdiction of Governor Wallace. One hundred National Guardsmen escorted Vivian Malone and James Hood into Foster Auditorium. General Henry Graham approached Governor Wallace at the door and demanded that he move aside. Wallace left the building.
Manchester, Alabama
July 11, 1950
During that fateful summer of 1963, when Frances and Winifred dropped Trisha at Helen’s house in Alberta City every day on their way to classes at the University, Winifred would occasionally think about the summers she spent with Helen and her grandparents on the farm in Manchester. One steamy morning in late June, Helen was waiting for the Dodd family on her curb next to her mailbox so she could tell them about the rattlesnake she had killed that morning just after breakfast—right in her backyard. As Helen was telling how she killed the snake with a shovel, Winifred thought back to the summer of 1950 when she had an encounter with a snake at the farm, not too long after Helen had introduced her to the bull with red eyes. A week after the bull incident, Helen went back to her parents in Tarrant. Winifred stayed one more week with Nana and Daddy Mims. Nana was thrilled to have Winifred another week without Helen. Winifred was Nana’s favorite grandchild, and not without reason. Helen had put firecrackers in the mailbox and tried to blow it up; she’d started a fire in the barn, and nearly drowned Winifred, playing baptism in the creek—all during the month of June.
Nana and Winifred had a common bond, albeit a questionable one. They were both worriers. Nana was a natural born worrier—what her friends called a worry wart. She had three concerns about Winifred. She was afraid Winifred was too much of a follower. Winifred would do anything others wanted her to do, even if she didn’t want to. Winifred’s time with Helen over the past month had certainly proven that. Nana also worried that Winifred was afraid of everything. Winifred didn’t like to try new thing and she became frightened easily, even over their Scottish terrier that Nana thought was as sweet as pie. And Nana’s worst fear about Winifred was that somehow she’d inherited all of this from her. Nana worried enough for everyone in the family. She didn’t need any help from Winifred and hoped this sweet, poor girl would stop worrying about everything and leave that to Nana.
During Winifred’s last week on the farm, Nana’s sister Kizarine, whose friends called her Kizzie, had come from Tampa, Florida for a visit. Late one afternoon Nana and Kizzie were in the garden picking plump, juicy strawberries that were perfect for making strawberry shortcake and homemade ice cream. Winifred was supposedly helping them, but she ate as many strawberries as she put in her basket.
Kizzie took off her hat to fan herself and exclaimed, “Whew! It’s hotter than a witch’s tit.”
“No, that expression is ‘colder than a witch’s tit,” explained her sister, Versie.
“Don’t correct my grammar. I live in Florida. It don’t get cold there. Everything’s hot.”
Versie and Kizzie always talked nonsense like this when they got together. To them, it was an intimate way to show affection, but anyone who heard their usual conversations would just consider them bat shit crazy. They were bickering and laughing when Winifred suddenly screamed at the top of her lungs.
“Would you look at that?” questioned Kizzie. “Why it’s a garter snake as big as a hoe.”
Winifred dropped her basket and ran as fast as she could for the house.
Aunt Kizzie hollered, “Don’t you worry about that snake, hon! It won’t hurt you.”
Winifred wasn’t listening. She was sure the snake was after her. She looked backwards and, in her mind, she saw the snake gaining on her. When she got to the house, she ran up the five steps to the porch. On the porch, she looked down to the bottom step and was sure she saw the snake.
Winifred fretted, “That snake can climb up these steps just like I did. I’m not safe. Help!”
She went in the house and latched the hook on the eye of the screen door. Then she slammed the huge wooden door and secured the deadbolt lock.
Winifred then reasoned, “That snake can chew through the screen door. Then it can gnaw through the wooden door. I can’t just stand here and let it get me.” Winifred ran to the kitchen, stopping next to the kitchen table. She decided she was still not safe and would have to climb on top of the table, but she was not big enough. She stood on a kitchen chair, climbed on it and then leaped to the top of the table. She sat there for awhile and then became distressed again.
She determined, “That snake can climb up the chair, just like I did. I’m still not safe. I have to knock over all the chairs. She stood on the table and kicked the backs or all the chairs around it until they fell down. There she was on the kitchen table with no