Mama by John Davis

Have you ever heard of a six year old getting drunk? Well if you haven’t, you will now. The year was 1927 on a plantation in Atlanta, Georgia, and Willie Mae Call was that six year old. It was the years of prohibition and her grandfather was a farmer who made corn liquor in his backyard. Willie Mae and her little brother would go in the backyard, drink the sweet leftover corn mash, and would get very drunk. Her mother never found out what was going on!

Willie Mae was born March 22, 1921, in Tucker, Georgia. She went all the way through school in Atlanta. In 1941, she moved to North Carolina to become a housekeeper in a hotel where she met her future husband, Waddey Odom. After a few weeks of courtship, they got married.

In 1942, Waddey was called to serve at Fort Lewis, Washington. In 1944, Willie Mae moved to Vanport to live closer to her husband. She became a baker in a local bakery and a housekeeper for the Portland Housing Authority. That was not quite enough to live a comfortable life so Waddey, who was a chef in the Army, would bring down cigarettes and food from Fort Lewis to help out the family.

In 1946, at the end of the Second World War, her husband and brother came back from the war. They lived in Vanport together. In 1948, Willie Mae was pregnant with the first of six children. On Memorial Day of that same year, Willie Mae was in her home in Vanport. The day was very hot; however, it had previously been raining for days. The Columbia River was at its highest she had ever seen it. Nonetheless, they were told that the dike would hold up. If water did start to spill over the dikes, they were told to go to the top unit and wait for it to go down. When the water began to seep into the streets, Willie Mae went upstairs to the top unit. When the dike suddenly broke, the water came fast. She and her family had to get out so they headed for higher ground. Eventually, they went to the train bridge where she watched the whole town get swept away.

If you had asked Willie Mae what affected her the most, she would have told you the story of the dinner she was preparing. “Well, I was making a big dinner of baked chicken, stuffing, mashed potatoes, banana pudding — the whole works. When I was told that it was a flood, I went upstairs leaving all the food behind. Later, I was so mad! I could just taste that food!”

After the flood, she moved over to the Albina area where she lived for a few years and went on to have another child. In the mid-1950s, she moved to California. Leaving her siblings and mother behind, she chose to honor her husband, Waddey, who wanted to live closer to the ocean and sun. Willie Mae had four more children. In 1994, she returned to Portland where she lived the last of her life, finding joy and peace in her garden.

Willie Mae Call — March 22, 1921 – July 27, 2001

Faith by Liset Lopez

She is from Portland,
from 82nd Avenue to Marine Drive.
She is from peas, carrots, and tomatoes,
from sandy soil to rows of produce.
She is from a little fruit stand on
N. Lombard and Denver Avenue.
She is from going to sleep at midnight and getting up at 4 a.m.
She is from Whitaker School, Parkrose Jr. High, and Jefferson High School,
from Multnomah Junior College to getting her associates degree in 1939.
She is from a family of six.
She is from an internment camp where
the smell of manure was everywhere.
She is from picking berries,
to pumping water into a Japanese-style bathtub.
She is from having a hard time getting her groceries.
She is from living through WWII.
She is from her husband Nug.
She is from Caldwell Labor Camp,
and from doing all different types of jobs,
from picking chicken feathers to picking peas.
She is from being a teacher in math, English, writing, spelling, and reading.
She is from a check of $12 a month.
She is from the flood at Vanport.
She is from the Kenton community.
She is from the Jefferson High School reunions,
and the Doubletree Coffee Shop.
She is from her working parent and family.
She is Mae Ninomiya.

Immigrating to the United States
by Melguiades Castaneda-Maldando

When we first arrived in the United States we went to Fresno, California. My dad worked for several days but, when the harvest was finished, he didn’t have anywhere else to work. After a while my dad couldn’t find any jobs so he moved for a while to another town where there were more jobs. My dad went to work in a town called Salinas, California. He worked cutting lettuce for two months and then he returned back to Huron, California, near Fresno. This time he worked at picking melons but he wasn’t making enough money. Many jobs had machines and less work was done by hand, so we were forced to find other ways to make money.

One day my dad packed everything and loaded the car so we could move to Oregon. We quickly packed everything and drove here. My dad drove 16 hours until we got to Gresham where my Uncle Sergio lives. When we arrived, my dad couldn’t find a job but, he remembered that the first time he came to Oregon he worked picking strawberries near Troutdale. The next day my dad and all of my family headed to the fields where we all worked picking strawberries for 8 hours a day, 7 days a week.

Soon we got enough money to afford renting an apartment. Our apartment was at 188th and Stark. My dad was offered a job at a Mexican restaurant in Gresham, so he took it. Today, he’s still working in the restaurant and he’s earning more than when he first started. Recently, my dad moved us to the North Portland area because the apartments are much cheaper than in Gresham. Now my dad is able to save money for our summer vacations to spend time as a family.

I think that family time is very important because you get to know more about your family. If my dad tells us to do one thing, we do it because we know he wants the best for our future and family. My family is one that’s always together. In the good times and in the bad times, we are always there for each other.

I am From by Marcell Goss

I am from a family of 7.

I am from gospel CDs, Happy Meal toys and
African figurines.

I am from dead end streets, leaves, broken tree
branches,
and trash from next door.

I am from old basketballs, liquor bottles, and old-
school cars.

Grandma Lizzie with love that’s sweet like candy
yams.

I am from If you believe then you will achieve.
And Will you hurry up and get off the phone
please?

BBQ pork ribs, greens, mac and cheese, corn
bread
is where I’m from.

I am from an old box in a blue truck with pictures
of all the good times.

You Will be Back by Jessica Haggin

You’re going to leave?
Old man St. John asks all of those
who flee

This town is way too small for me
They laugh, pushing through his
invisible gates

You’ll be back
He smiles

Not me! I’m free!
They cheer

See you soon
He booms

Year later they return – tired, defeated

They carry hope and remembrance in
their eyes

You’re back!
He smiles

I never realized how beautiful this little
town was
They sigh, begging for his
forgiveness
He doesn’t question why they
left

I knew you’d be back
He smiles

they always come back