Usually,
when you celebrate VETERANS Day, you
generally think of commemorating those fallen soldiers who have given
their lives in service to their country - the USA. I salute my Dad and my Uncle who are now ANCESTOR ANGELS, and WHO
HAVE GONE BEFORE US AND TRIED TO MAKE A WAY FOR US BY RAISING,
NURTURING, EDUCATING, DEFENDING AND LOVING US TO LIFE.
In
keeping with the tradition of honoring those who served in the
Military, I am honoring my father, Warner Hale DULAN, Sr., who served in
WWII
He
was stationed in Camp Seibert Army Base in Gasden, Alabama; served as a
Military Policeman (MP), and probably experienced more racism in his
young life there, than he ever did growing up in Oklahoma. In fact, his
experiences there shaped his militancy for the rest of his life. He
had enlisted to save the country that rejected him - and got a full dose
of racism during the time he was there. Of course, he was not the only
one; and it was not something he discussed with us until I was well
into my teens and participating in the Sit-ins, and Civil Rights
activities in Oklahoma City, under the mentorship and leadership of Ms.
Clara Luper.
I
remember him clearly saying to me, during one of our many epochmaking
debates, when he was trying to get me to stop participating in the
sit-ins - "You don't want to integrate with the kind of people these
people are!!" I was 17 years old. Tinker Air Force Base had threatened
to fire him because was an "agitator." He asked (not told) me to stop
because he could lose his position at Tinker. He had been there for 20+
years at the time. I looked at him like he had to be kidding, and
responded, somewhat arrogantly, that I was not going to stop - so he
probably should get a different job - why would he want to work for a
company that did not respect his rights?
I
half expected him to smack me or reprimand me, or ground me or withhold
my allowance. Instead, I saw this look of pride come across my Dad's
face - he couldn't hide it. I realized he was testing me to see how
committed I was to the movement. I later found out from my Mom that he
had pretty much informed the higher ups at Tinker that it would be my
own decision to stop, but he wouldn't force me to do so. My Dad was a
silent militant. We would go walking sometimes in those racist parts of
OKC, where they had the signs in the window that said "We reserve the
right to refuse service to anyone we choose." Daddy would walk into the
shop, stand there, not saying a word, waiting for one of the caucasoids
to refuse him service - no one ever did.
As
you can see, my Dad was a FINE BLACK MAN - he set high standards for
our family, because high standards were set by his Dad, my grandfather,
Silas S. DULAN, who served in WWI. They all served their country, in a
highly racist, segregated army. Despite that, they all had high
standards, ethics and definiteness of purpose
My Dad, Warner Hale DULAN, Sr. WWII Veteran
In addition to my Dad is his younger brother, and my favorite Uncle -
Adolph A. DULAN, who served in the Korean War, following in the
footsteps of his older Brother. My Uncle was also a FINE BLACK MAN, as
you can clearly see. He took advantage of his GI Bill, went to
college, got his degree in Social Work, but decided that it was time to
apply what he learned to economic development and entreprenurial
endeavors. He tried to teach other Black Vets to do the same thing. He started a program teaching Black Men entreprenurial skills, in Los Angeles. He had a very down to earth, Oklahoma Old Boy method that worked, and eventually led him to establish the Millionaire Men's Club, where he and his fellow Black Millionaires met and strategized how to share their knowledge and contribute to society.
My favorite Uncle made his transition 4 years ago leaving a legacy of
accomplishments from establishing businesses in LA, through starting
organizations that empowered Black men and women to excel.
My Uncle Adolf A. DULAN served in the Korean War
Blessings to all the brave, loving Brothers and Sisters who dedicated their lives to ours!!!
Seated second from right Mom, Ruby Love, extreme right my sister Brenda Nell, Standing back row extreme right, my daughters Adiya Wilson, Kira Harrell, Me (Gloria DULAN-Wilson), granddaughters Sherri Moore and Sherlayne Dulan - The photo was taken at my nephew Silas III's wedding July 28, 2012 in Kansas City, MO
by her Number One Daughter ME!!!! Gloria Jeanne
Today's my mother's 98th Birthday in Heaven. She joined my Dad and her Parents on April 14, 2014 at the tender age of 91. This will also be the 100th Heavenly Birthday of my Dad, Warner Hale Dulan, Sr., the love of her life, with whom she shared 47 years of happy marriage before he made his transition, leaving her, as she said, "Way too soon." They are now happily reunited in Heaven.
Mother was born on George Washington's
Birthday. Black in the Day February 22nd was national holiday, we all had his day off from school, so my sister, brothers and I (the original brat pack) celebrated it like it was her holiday -as indeed it was (even though
she had to make her own birthday cake)!!
We always tried to get her
something special - Daddy would take us shopping until we got old enough to do
it for ourselves. Lots of handkerchiefs and cheap smelling perfumes back then.
Now Mom is an Ancestor - but she has a host of loved ones who continually celebrate her life - but especially today - we all text, email, and call each other on this hallowed day - her children: Me Gloria Jeanne, Brenda, Warner, Jr, & Sylvester; our children, Kira, Rais, Adiya; Sherry and Ladonne, Silas II, Sherlayne, and her great grand children, Hugh V, Jaden, Akili, Kijahni, Jahzahra, and other family members - as well as a portion of our ancestral family - the Hornbeaks - the tribal family members celebrate her.
My Paternal Uncle, Adolf Dulan, who has since made his transition to the realm of Ancestor/Angels always said mother was the bravest woman on the planet for having married his brother, my Dad. All I know is that I watched those two argue over who loved whom most - and wo could outdo whom in making the other happy. That love was so present and apparent between the two of them - we girls were naive about what marriages were really like. I used to tell her she taught me how to stay in a loving marriage, but never taught me how to get out.
This is my personal homage to my Mom - Ruby Love - My grandmom, Cornelia Gaines, named her Ruby Love for such a good reason - it's her character trait that showed from the day she was born, and has always been who she is LOVE with a capital L!!
Mom Ruby Love
OWED TO RUBY LOVE
Ruby you may be the baby
That you got all the wisdom and love is no maybe
You nurtured us when we were small
You stood behind us through it all
You and Daddy were a heaven of a team
You made love and happiness more than a dream
Whenever we thought we could do things in any old way
You put us in check without delay -with dire consequences to pay
You taught us fashion, style and etiquette
You gave us a foundation we'll never forget
You taught us how to be a good mother
You passed the same wisdom to our baby brother
And when things tried to get you down
You not only got up, you actually rebound(ed)
You come from a tough genetic code
Black and Cherokee will never erode
No matter what they throw your way
You let them know you're here to stay
Mom I truly hope I have all your genes
You've shown me what eternal youth means
You don't just take things and make do
You transform them and make them new
What I've learned from you, the world is just finding out
They have yet to deal with what life is about
I just wanted to let you how much you're a treasure
How many things I recall with pleasure
And now that WE'RE CELEBRATING YOUR HEAVENLY BIRTH DATE;
You're not just RUBY LOVE, YOU'RE RUBY THE GREAT!!
(c) Poetic License by Gloria Dulan-Wilson
MOMILY MEMORIES:
Mom these are just some of the things I remember from growing up with
you, Brenda, Warner, Sylvester, Daddy, Grandmom Cornelia, Grandaddy
Enoch, Granddaddy Silas, Grandmom Zady - and all the other wonderful
Oklahoma childhood memories:
I remember you made us fresh popped popcorn in a skillet. We each had our own bag and would eat it by the fistfulls
I remember your making us oatmeal from scratch and putting raisins and cinnamon and fresh butter on top.
I remember fresh whole wheat toast, bacon (yes I used to eat pork), plum jam, and one egg over easy for breakfast before going to school.
I remember you used to put Vaseline on our legs, arms, hands and forehead so we wouldn't be ashy going to school.
I remember putting lemon rinds on our knees and elbows so they wouldn't be rusty (a trick I taught my daughters)
I remember you reading us fairy tales before going to bed
I remember blowing a bubble gum bigger than my head, and when it popped it got in my hair and you had to cut it out
I remember
Brenda and I sitting on the front porch with root beer and shaking it
up so it would foam up and run over the top of the bottle on to the
porch
I remember Brenda and I blowing bubbles into the milk to make it foam up and run over - we really did get into a lot of stuff, didn't we?
I remember
playing dress up, and getting into your clothes, with your high heels,
hats, gloves, and dresses. We used to parade around the house and
pretend to be you.
I remember you trying to teach me how to draw; fortunately Brenda was really a genius - my stick figures just didn't really make it.
I remember
my first pair of high heels - you bought them for me because I was in
the glee club, and I would have been the only girl without heels.
(I was 13 - remember - you surprised me with them).
I remember
your making cakes, pies, cookies, muffins, biscuits, yeast rolls, and
EVERYTHING from scratch (I'm a great cook, but I could never bake like
you -- all my pie crusts turn out harder than the pie pan).
I remember that old scrapbook that you used to collect your favorite recipes - and your old BETTY CROCKER cookbook.
I remember
you sending me to pull a switch off a tree so you could get me for
something I had done; and the warning not to come back with some dried
up old twig.
I remember
sitting on Grandmother Cornelia's front porch swing down home; and your
catching buffalo fish so we could help clean and fry them - MMMMMM
good! (and buffalo fish is still my favorite fish)
I remember wearing big straw hats in the summertime, because Grandmother Cornelia said the sun was bad for our skin;
I remember mosquito nets at night so the mosquitos wouldn't be able to eat us up alive
I remember grandmom Cornelia's millions of cats.
I remember
great grandmother Suzie (your dad's mother) who lived in the shack (her
choice) down the road; and Grandmother Cornelia taking her food to eat;
she had a 3 legged cast iron pot in the front (she scared the
beejeebers out of me).
I remember
Grandaddy taking us into Ardmore to get soda-pops and Cracker Jacks
with the real prizes in them - and everybody greeting him with respect
I remember
Grandmother Corneilia's hand made birch bark furniture; cactus lining
the front gate; the gully in front of the house, the china berry tree;
and her fresh made preserves.
I remember
that fantastic sepia picture with the oval frame of Grandaddy on the
wall - he was soooooooo fine - with those sunny brown eyes, and that
part in his hair (I wish I knew who stole that picture, I'd track them
down and get it back).
I remember
Grandmother Cornelia having Brenda and I pick the grey hairs out and
put them in a bowl so they wouldn't come back (old Cherokee superstition
- you never throw hair away, the birds might find it, like it, and
begin swooping down on you for more of your hair to build their nests).
I remember siting and watching while she braided her hair in two long plaits that she parted on either side of her shoulders.
I remember
the hot comb and getting my hair "straightened" - of course I've been
natural now for three + decades - but I did look cute with the styles
you gave me.
I remember
playing hop scotch on the drive way; jump rope, hide & go seek
(where we counted by fives) playing jacks; and my first day of
kindergarten
I remember making paper dolls and designing outfits for them; I remember keeping them in a cigar box.
I remember
nursery school with Ms. Sonders, and being scared to go because they
used to tell us that the Big Bad Wolf would get bad kids, and I wasn't
sure if I was good or bad - you told me I was good, and not to worry.
I remember
you making lunch for scratch for Daddy when he worked at Tinker Air
Force Base - sometimes he would have to leave at the crack of dawn, and
we didn't see him again until late that evening.
I remember
sitting and watching cartoons with you on the old black and white TV -
your favorites were Heckle and Jeckle and Woodie Woodpecker.
I remember watching silent movies with you; and all the old classic movies - to this day I'm still an old movie buff because of you.
I remember
listening to such greats as Lloyd Price, Billy Eckstein, Count Basie,
Duke Ellington, Dinah Washington, Billie Holiday, and so many others.
I remember
you and daddy taking us to the Black owned theatres - the Jewel, the
Eastside and the Aldrich, where we would go and see the movies of the
day - or Black oldies like Stormy Weather, Bronze Buckaroo, Cabin in
the Sky, The Emperor Jones, etc.
I remember
sitting on our front porch on N.E. 7th Street, and eating fresh picked
cherry tomatoes, cucumbers, and lettuce from your garden (that I helped
plant).
I remember Ebony, Jet, Sepia, Tan, Crisis, and other Black magazines on our coffee table; and we had to read them
I remember
Black history books, and participating in Negro History Week pageants -
and having to collect stories about Black accomplishments (of course
back in those days, we were "colored" or "Negroes")
I remember swinging from a rope swing on the Lucky Bean Tree, and building a tree house that actually lasted until the 90's - wow!
I remember getting to lick the bowl after you had made a cake or muffins from scratch.
I remember how good it smelled when you were making a roast or something in the kitchen.
I remember
the fact that you were such a night owl that you would actually vacuum
at 3 in the morning; I figure that's why I'm such a natural night owl
myself.
I remember
you and daddy making sure we spoke proper English; didn't split our
infinitives, didn't talk flat, and didn't say "ain't". The penalties
were to repeat the sentence over and over until we got it right.
I remember when you sold your part of the land Granddaddy and Grandmom left you so I could go to college.
I remember flash cards, and how we practiced until we learned our math, spelling and other lessons using them.
I remember
when we used to stay with Grandaddy Silas in Luther, Oklahoma, and
loving the smell of the woodburning stove, and being afraid of the
outhouse (where a Black widow spider had spun a web over the seat).
I remember
you used to make preserves; and that Grandmom and Grandaddy would send
us up a gunny sack of pecans, that Brenda and I would almost eat in one
sitting (of course a gunny sack is 100 lbs, but that's how much we love
pecans).
I remember Grandmom would make us dresses out of flour sacks and send them to us - they were very pretty.
I remember
Grandmom making doilies and roosters, and other stuff from crocheting;
and those spectacular quilts she made at the quilting bees.
I remember
Uncle Buddy, Aunt Mary, Aunt Trecia, Aunt JoAnn, and Aunt Eula - Billie
Jean, Yay-Yay and Ronnie; and cousin Joe Jr. (who I had a crush on);
and I remember riding on the front of Grandaddy Enoch's horse.
I remember jumping on fish gills to make them pop; and taking a magnifying glass to catch ants on fire.
I remember
all those awful herb teas Grandaddy used to make to help stay well; and
standing on the front porch, in the sunshine while you tried to get me
to take cod liver oil (yuck) followed by an orange - the oil always came
back up before I could take one bite of the orange - and you'd just
make me take it again until I finally got it down (yuck again).
I remember
your Singer Sewing Machine and all the wonderful outfits you made for
Brenda and me. It was the machine I learned to sew on. It always
fascinated me how you could transform a piece of fabric into such
elegant creations - and you still have one of the most fabulous
wardrobes going.
I remember how, in our home, birthdays were always celebrated.
I remember
how you opened our home to all our best friends; how you tried to guide
the kids in the neighborhood; how our yard was the neighborhood
community yard.
I remember roasting weenies in the Back yard; camping out under home made tents;
I remember playing baseball, foot ball, acrobats, and all kinds of crazy stuff in our yard.
I remember
skin-the-cat; turning flips, pole vaulting over the ropes, and making
mud pies; johnson grass that was taller than we were, catching and
mounting butter flies - all in our back yard.
I remember
how you were always two jumps ahead of me in whatever crazy scheme I
was cooking up or mischief I was getting ready to get into.
I remember
Easter egg hunts in the yard; dressing up for Easter, participating in
the Easter and Christmas pageants; and Father/Daughter dances.
I remember Juneteenth Picnic celebrations at Lake Olberhoster; and eating so much I got sick.
I remember getting chicken pox in my hair so nobody knew I had it until it was almost over; and I remember having mumps only in one cheek.
I remember
your sending us to the library on Saturday mornings after chores; and
my buying tons of books from Aladdin's book store - I was the resident
book worm
I remember
all those wonderful photos you had of you and Daddy when you were kids -
you could have been a fashion model; he could have been on the cover of
GQ -
I remember
how beautiful you and your sisters were (and Aunt Mary and you still
are).- and how each of you had married very handsome men - they really
don't make them like they used to.
I remember your making my favorite German Sweet Chocolate cake every year for my birthday. No one makes it like you.
I remember
Pecan Pie - peach cobbler, apple pie, cherry pie, blueberry pie, Ginger
Bread hot out of the oven with fresh whipped cream, topped with peaches
- right!
I remember my favorite ice cream was and is Black Walnut; followed closely by Rum Raisin, with a Chocolate a close third.
Peanutbutter Brickle from scratch, with real peanuts in it!
I remember
when I was in the NAACP Youth Council, and we were sitting in, you did
like it but you supported us anyway. You and Dad always warned us about
how vindictive rednecks were (sorry, had to go there;those were
dangerous times indeed).
I remember
how you kept your cool no matter what was going on - you handled it -
you were unflappable; but always on point. You saw thru b.s. like
nobody's business, and knew how to call a spade a spade - literally. My
friends and I used to say that you put the best detective to shame.
I remember
my best friend Tessa having to beg you to let me off of being grounded
so I could go out after something I had done. She always promised I
would be good, and never do it again - you knew better. But you let me
go anyway.
I remember
drawing and design houses for you from the ideas you had in your head -
you truly had a knack for those kinds of things - the home you have now
is proof of your insights.
I remember
your wisdom in telling me to always double check what the doctors tell
me, because some of them could not be trusted; a habit I have to this
day. It's saved my life many times. It's a habit, thank God, you still
maintain, which is why you made it to 91 alive and well, kicking and more
vibrant and energetic than ever.
I hope I have those genes. I'm sure
working on it.
I remember you chose when you were ready to go and went to the hospital to make your transition on your own terms.
Mom RUBY LOVE - I have so many memories. You know I could go on and on
and on because there are so many things that I recall from childhood to
now that I absolutely treasure.
So I hope this thumbnail down memory lane gives you some Idea of how much I love you and love the fact that you're my Mom.
Sadly they don't make them like you any more - I just hope I've done as much for three - Kira, Rais & Adiya - as you did for me.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY Mom RUBY LOVE LOVE YOU MUCHLY Stay Blessed,
Today
is Sunday, August 11, 2019. Today would have been my dad, Warner H.
Dulan, Sr.'s 98th Birthday. I wrote the following post in tribute to
him 4 years ago, in 2015. Dad passed on December 17, 1987. My mom, the love of his life, Ruby Love Dulan, joined him 5 years ago on April 14, 2014. It's kind of like I'm an orphan in so many ways. I think of him constantly. As I always say in my writings and conversations, MY DADDY WAS A FINE BLACK MAN. And by that, I don't just mean good looking. He was fine on the inside and outside. And, sadly, those kinds of Black men are becoming fewer and more difficult to find. I am not saying they don't exist - because they definitely do. It's just that some of them don't know they are Fine Black Men in the making. And others have been snapped up and are being loved by wise, wonderful Beautiful Black Divas like my mom was, who knew they had a treasure from day one and had the good sense to love and cherish them. I am so proud and happy to have had him in my life all my life - and still in my heart now. I mentally start celebrating my daddy's birthday long before the actual date of August 11th. I look at my own handsome son, RA, a Leo, and try to make sure I imbued him with those qualities my dad had. I look at my handsome grandson Hugh, and see those qualities in him as well. Leos are regal, loving, determined, dedicated, creative, talented and born leaders - whether it's a corporation, an organization, a music group - or their family. They can't help it. I am so proud to say that my Dad's DNA is alive and well in me (Aries), my kids, and their kids. Thank you Daddy. Love you muchly - miss you more. Give Mom Ruby Love a hug, a kiss and a squeeze from me Your number one Child Gloria Jeanne
I'm reposting it today in honor of his birthday Happy
Birthday Daddy:
I love you, miss you, and am still learning so much
from all the wisdom you tried to share with me when I was a rambunctious
teenager, and later as a woman and a mom. Today,
August 11, 2015, would have been my dad, Warner Hale Dulan, Sr.'s 94th
Birthday, had he lived. As I mentioned in my salutes to my handsome
Grandson, Hugh V, and my handsome Son, Rais, Sun Kings, or Leos, are
very special people. And to me, my Dad was the number one Leo in my
life.
My sister, BRENDA DULAN MOORE, did this portrait of my Mom and Dad - Warner and
Ruby Dulan (left) at a Black Country Club in Oklahoma City, Black in the
day - it was taken from an actual photo that sits on our mantel piece
at home; the photo was taken in 1943 - before I was born. They were hanging tough!
From my Dad I learned Pride, Discipline,
Compassion, Love and Pride. Did I say pride twice? Well I meant to,
because Leos have a double dose of it! As if Aries weren't already the
biggest egos on the planet -we are born with big egos, and, if nurtured
correctly, we learn how to control it so that we're not the most
obnoxious characters on the planet. That's not the kind
of pride I'm talking about. I'm talking about never appearing in
public looking less than your best; never allowing your enemy to see you
weakness - whatever that may be; always doing your homework ahead of
the game so you're prepared for whatever you're called to do (for me it
was acting and reciting when - from Kindergarten through high school, I
was a Thespian); and never ever ever beg anybody for anything - unless,
of course, it was life and death - the enemy can smell vulnerability;
always look a person in the eye when you're talking with them; and if
every other word out your mouth is a 4-letter word, or profanity, it
shows your ignorance and you've already lost; and louder doesn't mean
you're smarter or better, it means that you're trying to draw attention
to yourself. That's the kind of pride my Dad taught
me. And I'm happy to say that it was the kind of pride most of my
peers in Oklahoma City were also taught coming up. Somewhere between the
Code of the West and Southern Gentility on the Black side. After
his biggest three focuses - loving Ruby Love (my Mom), putting food on
the table, and keeping the roof over our heads, his biggest concern was
our education and well being. And he worked very hard at it. Daddy had
a full time job and several part time jobs - or odd jobs - as he called
them. He wasn't a "church going man," but he did
believe in God. He just didn't believe in the ministers. One of them
hit on my mom, who used to sing in the choir, and came to within an inch
of getting a major beatdown as a result. Once in a while, when he
felt the need, he would walk up the hill, and sit in the balcony of St.
John The Baptist Church. I'd go with him. He'd be dressed to the max,
crease in his pants, shoes shined up, suit impeccably done, and one of
his great Fedoras. I loved walking with my dad, all dressed up, and all
the church ladies trying to figure out if he was or wasn't married. For
the most part, though, Sundays were sacred to him - that was the day he
got all of us kids (4 of us) out of the house for the day to Sunday
School, Church, BYPU, and whatever else, so he could have exclusive time
with Mom, Ruby Love - the love of his life.
My Dad, Warner Hale Dulan, Sr., Born August 11, 1921
My dad was an expert
dominoes player - a favorite game among the Dulan family men -
something they would play for eons while the women, including yours
truly when I got older, were preparing the food in the kitchen, or for
the cook out; or after Memorial Day of cleaning off the graves. He was
also an excellent card player. He and mom used to have card parties at
the house and bring their friends over for a night of tournaments. He
loved boxing, and I got my love of boxing from him. Dad tried his hand
at amateur boxing when he was in the service - but I think that Leo
pride of his didn't like the idea of messing up his handsome good looks -
although he never said so. I always look at him and think of Muhammad
Ali when he said "I'm still pretty!" My Dad was a FINE
BLACK MAN - physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. He
could have been a great leading man in the movies, had he been born in a
different era. He was so handsome he turned heads where ever he went.
Of course, having the most beautiful woman in the world beside him, kept
the temptation to stray down. Daddy was always
teaching us things - from the smallest item - like earth worms, to major
mechanical and technological developments - he was the head of Tool
Crib Maintenance at Tinker Air Force Base for twenty of the forty-five
years he worked for them. He would pick up a cotter pin and explain how
that little device could make or break an entire mechanical system; or
the value of the earth worm to the ecosystem - i.e., why we needed them
in our garden in the back yard (I hated worms - so Daddy was trying to
speak up for their value - I still don't like worms, but I understand
their necessity). He taught me how to shoot a Winchester and a Luger - and I would go hunting
with him, Grandaddy, uncle Adolf and other relatives. His favorite
thing to do would be to take us for long drives around Oklahoma and
give us the history of certain areas as far as Black and Indians were
concerned. On our coffee table at home were the
requisite Black magazines: Ebony, Jet, Sepia, Tan, The Crisis, Negro
History, Journal of Negro Education - Daddy's subscriptions; along side
Cosmopolitan, Look, Life, McCalls, Good Housekeeping, House Beautiful,
Seventeen, Mademoiselle, etc - Mom's subscriptions; the Police Gazette, Ring Magazine, Popular Science and Popular Mechanic. And we read them
all. Daddy was always taking discarded items and
recycling or repurposing them. He was always building and tinkering on
something - I helped him build a dog house when I was 9. I had the job
of painting it. i think I got more paint on me than on the dog house. My
dad could also out dress any man in GQ!! He had shoe trees, the
requisite silk ties, the three piece suits, spit shine shoes, and the
right hats to go with his sartorial selections. When he and Mom would
step out, look out!!! They would stop the show - spot light on Ruby and
Warner Dulan. It was also for this reason that we could not go out into
the streets looking like bums - we had to take time to take pride - the
Leo way. It was Daddy who taught me how to wear hats when I was a kid -
I've been wearing them ever since. I think one of
the things I loved my Daddy so much for were our debates, which started
when I was about 10 or 11, and had become a part of the NAACP Youth
Council, and continued until he passed, at the age of 66 from multiple
myeloid cancer (bone marrow cancer) in 1987. He would take the opposite
tack of the issue and ask questions or make statements in a way that
would really get me riled up. I had learned to refute certain
statements through training at the Youth Council under Clara Luper, our
mentor. But he would take it and make it personal, as if I didn't know
what I was doing. That would then set us off on a harangue that could
last an hour or more. And I'd get huffy, annoyed, bent out of shape; and he
would just continue to calmly throw barbs at me and poke holes in my
argument. The more emotional I became, the calmer he became. But, even
if I got shrill - which I sometimes did - no one else in the family
ever dared step into that conversation between Daddy and me. Mother
told me years later how proud he was that I knew all the stuff I knew, and the fact that I would stand on my principles. I was so involved in Civil Rights demonstrations that, when
I was 17, Tinker Air Force Base had actually threatened to fire Dad if I didn't
quit participating in the Sit-ins and demonstrations. He came and told
me what they said, and asked me what I wanted to do. He was looking at me intently as he said it - he mentioned that if he lost his job, the family would starve, we could lose our home, and I would not be able to go to college. But, I responded that I
couldn't step down, because what I was doing was for our people - so it
might be good if he started looking for another job. He got so
tickled, and got this smile one his face and told me he had already informed them that he couldn't force
me to quit. He continued as an employee for another 20+ years until
his retirement. In fact, he later was promoted to the manager of his entire unit. I can hear Dad saying to me "Don't be
no fool!" when I was about to get into something that might result in a
behind whipping on my part; or "There's nothing worse than an educated
fool," when I thought I knew everything and didn't have to listen to
anybody else's opinions or ideas. My friends knew and
loved my Dad for who he was and what he stood for - most of their
parents and my father worked together at Tinker, or at the many oil
wells throughout the city. Those men shared their intelligence, not
their ignorance, with each other. They were focused on progress, not
defeat. If one made it, they would pull the other through. They
carpooled to work and would catch each other up on houses, deals, cars,
etc. We were a community - all the kids knew each other as well.
Daddy at age 65 - FINE BLACK MAN!! August 11, 2015 would have been his 94th Birthday.
One of my fondest memories
was of Daddy's birthday celebrations. When we were little, Brenda (my
sister) and I would get up with Mom, sneak into the kitchen and make his
favorite breakfast, and then "surprise" him by serving it to him in bed.
And after he had eaten, we'd give him his presents - generally
something we had made in Vacation Bible School. He would always act
surprised and pleased at the stuff we'd give him. When I was 12, I
took some leather strips that had been thrown out from a shoe repair place - they were about 1/2" wide by
3' long, and wove him a seat cushion for his car. He used it til the
day he made his transition to the realm of Ancestor/Angel. Mother kept it for quite some time after. I
have no idea what happened to it since then; but he was so amazed that I
had come up with the concept, he talked about that forever. This
past June (2015), I attended an International Father's Convention at the
DoubleTree Hotel in Philadelphia. I was listening to presenter after
presenter talking about how special fathers are; how important they are
in the life of a child; how it's time to reinstate fathers. And I have
to admit that I was so in agreement with them. I was so blessed to have
had my mom and my dad in my life, all my life - and they were wonderful people. When
someone has to tell you that fathers are assets, something is indeed
very wrong with your culture and community. When fathers stop being
assets it is the beginning of the dissolution of you as a people. My
dad was/is a treasure in our family - as are all the dads in the Dulan
Clan - my uncle Adolf, my cousins Jeff and Gregory, my handsome son Rais
Wilson, my handsome son-in-law Hugh IV, my brother Sylvester, his son
Silas; Lou Wilson, the love of my life; my Son-in-Law Hugh Harrell IV, and so on - Fathers are essential. So I'm saying Thanks
Daddy for being the wonderful dad and Sun King that you were/are. Your
birthday is treasured in our family, and always will be, for me. Lovingly, Your Number One Kid Gloria Jeanne
I can't tell you how devastated I was to learn of the transition of my dearest Brother/Friend, ZACH HUSSER, Sr. to the realm of Ancestor/Angel.
Zach Husser at Press Conference and Reception at Clyde Frazier's Wine and Dine
Zach was one of my first true friends and neighbor when I moved to New York, and we lived in the twin buildings of 640 and 641 Riverside Drive. When I first met Zach, I was a single mother, with a very young, precocious daughter. I had sublet the apartment from a friend of mine - Olumide, former manager of the LAST POETS - who at the time had relocated to Staten Island
It was the 70s, and Zach gave the best parties on the planet - which is probably how we met - because I loved to party. I had a small 2 bedroom apartment, and Zach had this massive apartment with killer views of the Hudson. Our building was full of intellectuals, party goers, and entrepreneurs. We practically ran that part of Riverside Drive.
We lost track of each other for 10 years after Lou and I relocated to LaLa Land, but reunited in 1986, after running into each other at a Kappa Omicron Party in Harlem. And the friendship started back up as though we had just seen each other the day before. And it's been that way ever since.
Zach had morphed into this combination gentleman, activist, community leader, Wall Street Maven, sports afficianado. I was working in counseling at the SEEK Program at Brooklyn College.
Zach was always active, always up on what was going on - ask him anything - about a subject that most others wouldn't have any remote idea about, ad he could expound on it for hours - down to dates, times, places and names.
People loved Zach, and Zach loved the back. I don't think there was ever aperson who didn't benefit from his wit, wisdom, enthusiasm, and inspiration. He was a brother whose word was bond. You didn't have to worry about him doing what he said he would do. What you had to do was wonder how he did it all, and do is so well?
He brought the party with him - he could enter a room and light it up. He loved planning parties as much as he loved attending them. I went to my very first tailgate party because of him - had never heard of it before - but there I was with a bunch of Ques, sitting out in the parking lot of Giants Stadium, at the Urban League Classics, barbecuing, listening to music, and having a blast.
The only thing - or I should say person - Zach loved more than partying and solving problems was Joanie, his lovely wife. If he was the light of our lives, she was the light of his life - and without her, his light would not have shined as brightly for the rest of us. He loved her sewing and designs, and often sent me snapshots of her latest work - probably because she and I both loved to sew and design - but also because she had taken hers to the next level and started her own company (no doubt because he encouraged her do to so). As proud as he was of his wife, he was totally over the moon about his offspring and his grands.
His other loves were Delaware State University and Columbia University. But his biggest love and source of pride was that of being a proud member of OMEGA PSI PHI FATERNITY - he was the Omega's Omega. He never failed to highlight and feature his brothers, and could always tell you which famous person was an Omega or a Delta. If he came across a Soror of Delta Sigma Theta, he would always try to put us together so that we could communicate.
Zach not only knew what was happening with Kappa Omicron, but the other chapters as well. When I contacted a couple of his frat brothers about whether there were any youth organizations in Greensboro, NC for my two handsome grandsons, everybody told me to contact Zach - he knew them all. Kevin Woodhouse said, the only person who would probably know names, phone numbers and other information would be Zach - he's the one who keeps up with those kinds of things. I wonder who's going to take up the torch now that he's made his transition.
Another part of Zach's charm was his always friendly smile, the warmth with which he would greet you, and his excellent memory. But, if you crossed him, or one of his friends, watch out!!! Husser didn't play that and he didn't back down. You either got your act together or he would put you on blast.
I know this is a long post - but Zach and I had a long friendship. I will also admit that I'm writing this from a very selfish standpoint. When the message about his homegoing ceremony flashed across my cell phone, I was stunned for a moment. I couldn't believe my eyes. I figured GOD had made a mistake, and he really needed to give us our Zach back.
I guess I was in awe of Zach because we both were Aries, but he had managed to maintain a balanced temperament - which inspired me to do better, and filter my statements as opposed to going for the jugular when someone annoyed me. He was the brother who could see the issues from both sides and still come out with a balanced verdict that didn't seem to antagonize either side. Zach was our Solomon.
He was my guru. He was my mentor, friend, brother, confidant - he could drag stuff out of me - worse yet - read my mind when I was letting Aries pride keep me from admitting that I even had a problem. We often co-conspired to develop programs and concepts for community groups and people. BLACK PEOPLE, that is - because if there was anything that Zach loved was Black people and being Black. Even when our brothers and sisters sometimes acted like they were dumb as a box of rocks, he would make the allowances and soldier on. It also might have been because as an Aries, we/he hates to be wrong - which made him highly competitive and highly successful. He had a vision, and would go for it.
Date: Wed, Dec 8, 2010 at 5:06 AM Subject: The Free Mumia Abu-Jamal Solidarity Movement Meeting at St. Mary's Church at 521 West 126th Street
Dear Family,
I know I hit YOU with a lot of information and emails! I do
this because the Black Family has so many problems and issues that We
must resolve and I can not sit back and not pass the knowledge
Information on to ALL OF YOU who are a part of SOLVING the ills that
plague The Black Family! I know many of YOU say damn, Brother Zach sends
a lot of stuff and you're correct. Please help me solve and resolve all of these issues one at a time and my emails will drop considerably!!!
When we decide to work on solving the
problems, We must know exactly what we're talking about and we must have
all the facts to teach others! We must come fully prepared to challenge
all Supremacist who mean OUR Family NO Good!! Going to meetings,
listening to correct radio, reading books, learning and teaching others,
and most of all, working with Groups of like thinking is what this
Victory Thing is all about. We need each other more than at any time in
OUR existence. Get YOUR CREW together and go by the Church and see how
all of YOU can help in the Fight To Save Brother Mumia Abu-Jamal's
LIFE!! This is life and death we're talking about and it's a cancer that
is destroying the Black Family. All YOU Doctors OUT there, I need you
and you don't even know you're a Doctor!! Come to the meeting and
starting operating for CHANGE!!
In the interest of Resolving ills that plague OUR Community,
Brother Zachary C. Husser, Sr.
Note: I'm making a special request to the Iconic Sportsmen/Women
to come out and Show Solidarity with Freedom Fighters. A lot of YOU
have been missing in action. Men, you know who you are, Come on out
because We want and need YOU!
He was one of the few people I could let my hair down with, and not have to worry about having it thrown in my face, or hearing about it later on. He loved my writing, and would connect me with individuals who needed my genre of work - which is how I got to edit and revise Dick Barnett's novel, Athlete Negro. He was that way with all his friends. If there was an opportunity that he thought one of his friends or associates was suited for, he would recommend them, and make sure they made the connection with the correct people, and follow up to make sure things were progressing properly. Zach introduced me to Bobby Hunter - and got me involved in the 50th Anniversary of the Rucker games - such a privilege. Zach Husser, Sr. wrote:"Dear Family of Friends, "Book Signing" taking place on Monday, May 11, 2015 at Walt "Clyde" Frazier's Restaurant. The book signing as well as meet and greet Dr. Dick Barnett, a former New York Knick Championship Player, is taking place from 5:00 PM to 7:30 PM. Clyde's Restaurant is locatedat 485 10th Avenue on the corner of 37th street. We look forward to having your family and friends there to purchase the book, meet some great people, and do your networking.The book, "The Athlete Negro," is a compelling story that all of Us have to read. Spread the word to your family of friends.In the Interest of Supporting One Another,Brother Zach Husser, National Communications AdvisorFathers in Education Campaign, Incorporated www.fathersineducation.org
Zach always had my back. When he and Zach and Playthell Benjamin were at Elombe Brath's
Homegoing service, the Ushers at Abyssinian Baptist Church were giving me a difficult time getting seated, Zach got up, went to the back where I was standing, and escorted me down to a seat in front of him. He and Playthell Benjamin sat behind me and we kept up a running conversation during the entire ceremony. Nothing like having an insanity brother or two.
He was Mr. Resource - he knew everybody that was anybody - and that was from the so called highest to the so called lowest.
July 9, 2015 My Dear Family of Friends Network,
I'm very happy to deliver the below information to all of You. Sister
Ntozake Shange was one of the young ladies that was a classmate of mine
during my years as a student at Columbia University. We've been friends
since our College days when we bonded with the other Black Students on
Campus.
Take a look at the Barnard College recognition of Ms. Shange in the
below online magazine. What I would like all of you to do is use the
names in this email because 98% of all of the recipients are Women
taking care of business! All of you need to know one another. One of the
ladies in this note is my wife Joan, the Sewing & Design Diva that
can bring any of your clothing dreams to reality. Check her out on www.JWHstyle.com for more details.
Let's Stay in Touch,
Brother Zach Husser
When my husband, Lou Wilson, the Love of My Life, made his transition, Zach was one of the first of my friends to call me with condolences. When I relocated to Philadelphia to be nearer to my children, Zach was the one who put me in contact with his contacts in Philadelphia to make sure that I made a smooth transition - he knew as many people here as he did in New York.
I'm 100% sure that GOD spoke to us through Zach!!
Zach was one of the few people who not only read my emails and blog, but actually commented on them and encouraged others to do so as well. I've received over 1400 emails from him between 2009 thru 2018 - and that's just on my new computer. I've gone through 5 computers over the past 25 years, and I would bet that Zach and I have emailed each other ten times that amount. We have worked on mutual projects over the years from hosting community events, award programs, news interviews - many of which he actually set up for me. I really appreciate and treasure his faith and confidence in me, and his always contacting me about opportunities and including me in projects.
He was always in the forefront of trying to save Black people - wake them up. Have us be our own salvation - not relying on others to do what we should be doing for ourselves: Black
People MUST do Research if we want to get ourselves out of the
Conditions and ills that plaque our Black Family. I'm in one hundred
percent agreement with that statement.
Secondly, Our Black Family has to include
Philosophy, Ethics, Logic, and Critical Thinking in all of the Schools
that Our Children attend. If the schools don't teach those subjects it's
our responsibility to make sure OUR Children are saturated with these
topics. This was another statement that hit me straight in the face and
if we check the Schools Our Children attend, none of the mentioned
subjects are taught there! Our young people need Philosophy, Logic,
Critical thinking, and Ethics so They have a foundation for learning and
living that will stay with them forever! We have some business to take
care of!
Thirdly, the written documents indicated that too much "Censorship" is
being done via the media when it comes to having speakers that don't
agree with the party line. I'm in absolute agreement with that statement
because I don't see folk like Betty Dopson, Dr. James McIntosh,
Playthell George Benjamin, Joseph R. Mack, Ministers from the Nation of
Islam, and Black thinkers like Dr. Gerald Horne on any programs in New
York City. This is the truth and it's Censorship in the worst way. The
only folk that get hurt in Censorship is Our Black Family because We
don't get the Knowledge WE need to make critical decisions. The folk I
mentioned in the above sentence aren't invited to speak from their well
researched perspective by any Media, whether Black Owned or White in New
York City! We have to do something about this Censorship and we have to
do it Now! What are YOU going to do??
In the interest of educational excellence,
Brother Zachary C. Husser, Sr
Fun Stuff: I remember a party Zach and Joanie invited me to - it was actually Joanie's birthday - the party was held n a part of Brooklyn that I was not familiar with - and would not have gone to had it not been for him. It turned out it was also a fights party featuring Floyd Mayweather - forget who his opponent was, though it really didn't matter, because Mayweather won anyway. WE had an absolute blast - It was a 70s party featuring music from the 70s. We partied till the wee hours of the morning. Zach and Joanie were newly weds - or near newly weds; and he was totally and completely in love.
We lived at opposite ends of the spectrum - he was an early riser, I was a nght owl - so if we needed to talk about issues, we would have to agree to talk at 10:00AM - I generally didn't get up until 11:00AM - and we would go forth to solve the problems of the world. Zach went to bed at 8:00PM - I could never figure out how he made that transition from being a night owl to going to sleep with the chickens. LOL
Still, he insisted that it kept him healthier and full of energy to go to bed at 8:00PM and get up at 5:00PM - he was always concerned about health and the fact that far too many of us were ignorant of how to maintain our health unto old age:
Sent: Sun, Dec 11, 2011 5:23 am
Subject: Re: The Development of a Closer Friendship With A Brother That Has A Great Deal Of Respect For Your Opinions And YOU..
My Dear Brothers,
One of the critical things I want to do in collaboration with both
of YOU is show and teach Our Black Men about the importance of great
health for all of Us. We can do this by becoming the in shape &
healthy templates we want others to follow. I need to get into great
physical and mental condition so I can do the writing, teaching,
learning, and other things that benefit "My Black People."
As I watched you Brother Alton at the Cotton Club yesterday, I
realized the two of Us are fighting big bellies. I'm getting involved
with The Heal Thyself Center in Brooklyn and become a student of Sister
Queen Afua. Go to www.QueenAfua.com
for more details. We all need to take better care of each other and
ourselves. I'm sending this note out of love for Black People, but for
Black Men in particular. If you believe I'm coming in Love, get in touch
with Sister Queen Afua and let's agree to do her program as a team.
When Our Black Men and Our Wives see the transformation of our physical
body and the energy we get from working with Sister Queen Afua, all
others will jump on Board. This is a win win situation and my gift to
you two Giants doing the work to save Black Legacy!
In the interest of Excellent Health,
Brother Zachary C. Husser, Sr.
We were always one step ahead of the issues: 1/05/2010 Percy Sutton When I received the news that Percy Sutton had made his transition, I
was in the process of working with a friend, Zach Husser, to do an
updated one-on-one personality profile interview with him. This was
just prior to Thanksgiving. Joe Barnes, owner of Mobay’s Restaurant,
and Bobbi Humphrey, who are both close to the family, and informed me
that Percy had recently been admitted to a nursing home. A month later
he was gone. Mr. Sutton was and is one of my personal heroes.
He belongs in the realm of what I call Fine Black Men: Articulate,
intelligent, talented, honest, creative, visionary, powerful, positive,
generous, and fine. He was all that and so much more. Truly a man to
be emulated and admired. I do hope that there will be a Sutton Archives
curated with a collection of his speeches, writings, and what I called
“the Sutton Touch”, so his wonderful example is not lost on our up
coming generations.
1/23/18 I just recently learned of the passing
of my brother/friend Little Willie Kgositsile, the South African Poet
Laureate and a lifetime friend, and was in the process of making a
spiritual farewell to him, that I got the news from my brother/friend
Zach Husser telling me that Leslie Wyche had made his transition to the
realm of Ancestor/Angel as well.
5/27/15 I just received this from my friend Zach Husser, Sr. who wrote:
Family of Friends,
Please read the below email message. It's pretty saiwh '''''rem.
My response, upon reading the article, was: Hi Zach - I love this - and to tell
you the truth, I fell in love with the Q's when I first saw them step at
Hampton Institute - I'd never seen anything like that before in my life
- amazing!! And that was in the 60's! None of the Sororities at
Hampton "stepped" - the other frats had their own repertoire, but the
Ques were off the chain. As far as I'm concerned, stepping started with
you guys - and most closely resembled the South African Boot Dances - I
often wondered whether there was someone in the Frat who had either
gone to South Africa, had South African origins, or had been exposed to
it. Watching those brothers at Hampton was both mesmerizing and
exciting! https://gloria-dulan-wilson.blogspot.com/2015/05/this-is-why-we-step-dst-crystal.html
I won't go metaphysical and say that he's in a better place - It's much too soon for me to take that stance. And I know it's ridiculous to ask God to bring him back. But I will say that his spirit is with us all, and if we can each of us break off whatever favorite piece of Zach lingers in our memories, and incorporate him into our lives, breathe in some of his unlimited energy, radiate his love of people, we'd all be blessed and a lot happier.
My love and condolences to Joanie, the family, friends, brothers of Omega Psi Phi, and all the brothers and sisters who knew and loved him.
Rest in eternal Peace and Power Brother Zach
Stay Blessed & ECLECTICALLY BLACK Your Sister/Friend Glo
Today is Saturday, August 11, 2018. Today would have been my dad, Warner H. Dulan, Sr.'s 97 Birthday. I wrote the following post in tribute to him 3 years ago, in 2015. Last year, my Uncle Adolf Dulan, Dad's baby brother, made his transition to the realm of Ancestor/Angels, meaning that now all of his family - Grandmom Zady, Grandaddy Silas, Aunt Zethel, Ailene, Adolf and He are all there together looking over me, my sister Brenda, my Brothers Syl and Warner, Jr., as we move forward on this plane of action. I'm reposting it today in honor of his birthday Happy
Birthday Daddy. I love you, miss you, and am still learning so much
from all the wisdom you tried to share with me when I was a rambunctious
teenager, and later as a woman and a mom. Today,
August 11, 2015, would have been my dad, Warner Hale Dulan, Sr.'s 94th
Birthday, had he lived. As I mentioned in my salutes to my handsome
Grandson, Hugh V, and my handsome Son, Rais, Sun Kings, or Leos, are
very special people. And to me, my Dad was the number one Leo in my
life.
My sister, BRENDA DULAN MOORE, did this portrait of my Mom and Dad - Warner and
Ruby Dulan (left) at a Black Country Club in Oklahoma City, Black in the
day - it was taken from an actual photo that sits on our mantel piece
at home; the photo was taken in 1943 - before I was born. They were hanging tough!
From my Dad I learned Pride, Discipline,
Compassion, Love and Pride. Did I say pride twice? Well I meant to,
because Leos have a double dose of it! As if Aries weren't already the
biggest egos on the planet -we are born with big egos, and, if nurtured
correctly, we learn how to control it so that we're not the most
obnoxious characters on the planet. That's not the kind
of pride I'm talking about. I'm talking about never appearing in
public looking less than your best; never allowing your enemy to see you
weakness - whatever that may be; always doing your homework ahead of
the game so you're prepared for whatever you're called to do (for me it
was acting and reciting when - from Kindergarten through high school, I
was a Thespian); and never ever ever beg anybody for anything - unless,
of course, it was life and death - the enemy can smell vulnerability;
always look a person in the eye when you're talking with them; and if
every other word out your mouth is a 4-letter word, or profanity, it
shows your ignorance and you've already lost; and louder doesn't mean
you're smarter or better, it means that you're trying to draw attention
to yourself. That's the kind of pride my Dad taught
me. And I'm happy to say that it was the kind of pride most of my
peers in Oklahoma City were also taught coming up. Somewhere between the
Code of the West and Southern Gentility on the Black side. After
his biggest three focuses - loving Ruby Love (my Mom), putting food on
the table, and keeping the roof over our heads, his biggest concern was
our education and well being. And he worked very hard at it. Daddy had
a full time job and several part time jobs - or odd jobs - as he called
them. He wasn't a "church going man," but he did
believe in God. He just didn't believe in the ministers. One of them
hit on my mom, who used to sing in the choir, and came to within an inch
of getting a major beatdown as a result. Once in a while, when he
felt the need, he would walk up the hill, and sit in the balcony of St.
John The Baptist Church. I'd go with him. He'd be dressed to the max,
crease in his pants, shoes shined up, suit impeccably done, and one of
his great Fedoras. I loved walking with my dad, all dressed up, and all
the church ladies trying to figure out if he was or wasn't married. For
the most part, though, Sundays were sacred to him - that was the day he
got all of us kids (4 of us) out of the house for the day to Sunday
School, Church, BYPU, and whatever else, so he could have exclusive time
with Mom, Ruby Love - the love of his life.
My Dad, Warner Hale Dulan, Sr., Born August 11, 1921
My dad was an expert
dominoes player - a favorite game among the Dulan family men -
something they would play for eons while the women, including yours
truly when I got older, were preparing the food in the kitchen, or for
the cook out; or after Memorial Day of cleaning off the graves. He was
also an excellent card player. He and mom used to have card parties at
the house and bring their friends over for a night of tournaments. He
loved boxing, and I got my love of boxing from him. Dad tried his hand
at amateur boxing when he was in the service - but I think that Leo
pride of his didn't like the idea of messing up his handsome good looks -
although he never said so. I always look at him and think of Muhammad
Ali when he said "I'm still pretty!" My Dad was a FINE
BLACK MAN - physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally. He
could have been a great leading man in the movies, had he been born in a
different era. He was so handsome he turned heads where ever he went.
Of course, having the most beautiful woman in the world beside him, kept
the temptation to stray down. Daddy was always
teaching us things - from the smallest item - like earth worms, to major
mechanical and technological developments - he was the head of Tool
Crib Maintenance at Tinker Air Force Base for twenty of the forty-five
years he worked for them. He would pick up a cotter pin and explain how
that little device could make or break an entire mechanical system; or
the value of the earth worm to the ecosystem - i.e., why we needed them
in our garden in the back yard (I hated worms - so Daddy was trying to
speak up for their value - I still don't like worms, but I understand
their necessity). He taught me how to shoot - and I would go hunting
with him, Grandaddy, uncle Adolf and other relatives. His favorite
thing to do would be to take us for long drives around Oklahoma and
give us the history of certain areas as far as Black and Indians were
concerned. On our coffee table at home were the
requisite Black magazines: Ebony, Jet, Sepia, Tan, Crisis, Negro
History, Journal of Negro Education - Daddy's subscriptions; along side
Cosmopolitan, Look, Life, McCalls, Good Housekeeping, House Beautiful,
Seventeen, Mademoiselle, etc - Mom's subscriptions. And we read them
all. Daddy was always taking discarded items and
recycling or repurposing them. He was always building and tinkering on
something - I helped him build a dog house when I was 9. I had the job
of painting it. i think I got more paint on me than on the dog house. My
dad could also out dress any man in GQ!! He had shoe trees, the
requisite silk ties, the three piece suits, spit shine shoes, and the
right hats to go with his sartorial selections. When he and Mom would
step out, look out!!! They would stop the show - spot light on Ruby and
Warner Dulan. It was also for this reason that we could not go out into
the streets looking like bums - we had to take time to take pride - the
Leo way. It was Daddy who taught me how to wear hats when I was a kid -
I've been wearing them ever since. I think one of
the things I loved my Daddy so much for were our debates, which started
when I was about 10 or 11, and had become a part of the NAACP Youth
Council, and continued until he passed, at the age of 66 from multiple
myeloid cancer (bone marrow cancer) in 1987. He would take the opposite
tack of the issue and ask questions or make statements in a way that
would really get me riled up. I had learned to refute certain
statements through training at the Youth Council under Clara Luper, our
mentor. But he would take it and make it personal, as if I didn't know
what I was doing. That would then set us off on a harangue that could
last an hour or more. And I'd huffy, annoyed, bent out of shape; and he
would just continue to calmly throw barbs at me and poke holes in my
argument. The more emotional I became, the calmer he became. But, even
if I got shrill - which I sometimes did - no one else in the family
ever dared step into that conversation between Daddy and me. Mother
told me years later how proud he was that I knew all the stuff I knew. When
I was 17 Tinker Air Force Base had threatened to fire Dad if I didn't
quit participating in the Sit-ins and demonstrations. He came and told
me what they said, and asked me what I wanted to do. I responded that I
couldn't step down, because what I was doing was for our people - so it
might be good if he started looking for another job. He got so
tickled, and told me he had already informed them that he couldn't force
me to quit. He continued as an employee for another 20+ years until
his retirement. I can hear Dad saying to me "Don't be
no fool!" when I was about to get into something that might result in a
behind whipping on my part; or "There's nothing worse than an educated
fool," when I thought I knew everything and didn't have to listen to
anybody else's opinions or ideas. My friends knew and
loved my Dad for who he was and what he stood for - most of their
parents and my father worked together at Tinker, or at the many oil
wells throughout the city. Those men shared their intelligence, not
their ignorance, with each other. They were focused on progress, not
defeat. If one made it, they would pull the other through. They
carpooled to work and would catch each other up on houses, deals, cars,
etc.
Daddy at age 65 - FINE BLACK MAN!! August 11, 2015 would have been his 94th Birthday.
One of my fondest memories
was of Daddy's birthday celebrations. When we were little, Brenda (my
sister) and I would get up with Mom, sneak into the kitchen and make his
favorite breakfast, and then surprise him by serving it to him in bed.
And after he had eaten, we'd give him his presents - generally
something we had made in Vacation Bible School. He would always act
surprised and pleased at the stuff we'd give him. When I was 12, I
took some leather strips from a shoe repair place - about 1/2" wide by
3' long, and wove him a seat cushion for his car. He used it til the
day he made his transition. Mother kept it for quite some time after. I
have no idea what happened to it since then, but he was so amazed that I
had come up with the concept, he talked about that forever. This
past June, I attended an International Father's Convention at the
DoubleTree Hotel in Philadelphia. I was listening to presenter after
presenter talking about how special fathers are; how important they are
in the life of a child; how it's time to reinstate fathers. And I have
to admit that I was so in agreement with them. I was so blessed to have
had my mom and my dad in my life - and they were wonderful people. When
someone has to tell you that fathers are assets, something is indeed
very wrong with your culture and community. When fathers stop being
assets it is the beginning of the dissolution of you as a people. My
dad was/is a treasure in our family - as are all the dads in the Dulan
Clan - my uncle Adolf, my cousins Jeff and Gregory, my handsome son Rais
Wilson, my handsome son-in-law Hugh IV, my brother Sylvester, his son
Silas, and so on - So I'm saying Thanks
Daddy for being the wonderful dad and Sun King that you were. Your
birthday is treasured in our family, and always will be, for me. Lovingly, Your Number One Kid Gloria Jeanne
