grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

I Was a Soul Train Dancer.

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This week I am attending a one-week writer’s residency program at Dairy Hollow in Eureka Springs. During this time I will re-post some of my favorite blogs from the prior year. Maybe you missed one? 

originally published 02/03/12…


Say it ain’t so! Don Cornelius, conductor of Soul Train, the ‘hippest trip in America’, DEAD? From a gunshot wound to the head? Self-inflicted? And on the first day of Black History Month? Oh the humanity. 

Daisy Mae introduced us to Soul Train in the early 1970s. She babysat my little sister and me nearly every Saturday night. She was our Aibileen, one of the principal characters in Kathryn Stockett’s, The Help. Daisy was nurturing and funny and sassy, but that’s where the similarities to the book ended. I don’t know about Mississippi, but in Arkansas, at our house, Daisy was plenty welcome to use our cramped, avocado green bathroom. She was one of our family. She came to our house every Saturday night right after Hee Haw and stayed until after we dozed off. Those few hours, once a week, ushered in a groove factor completely new and exciting to two little white girls on a farm in Arkansas. 


As kids, we LOVED to perform. We were destined to be famous entertainers like Sonny and Cher. Daisy, our biggest fan and captive audience, sat trapped in our bedroom for hours on end, patiently watching our gig du jour – a cappella musical performances complete with costumes and lipstick, skits we had written, and re-enactments of Frog and Toad Together. We specialized in Tony Orlando and Dawn songs. I was always Tony Orlando. Apparently I was totally comfortable with cross-dressing… We ran around the orange shagged carpeted bedroom singing “Tie A Yellow Ribbon”. Daisy clapped enthusiastically. Daisy was a SAINT. 

Growing worried about our future and no doubt extremely tired of Tony Orlando and Dawn, she took us under her sympathetic wing, refocused our attention while we were still impressionable, and saved us from a life of total and complete embarrassment. Late one night, in early 1972, Daisy introduced us to Don Cornelius and Soul Train. Desperately in need of actual entertainment, we were immediately hooked/saved. She schooled us in the proper way to announce, “SOOOOOOOOOUL TRAAAAAIN!” mimicking Mr. Cornelius’ high-pitched, drawn-out words, keeping us engaged so we would not relapse into another bad rendition of Donny and Marie.

This quickly became our Saturday night tradition. Daisy and Mr. C changed the beat and pulse in our house. She opened our eyes to a different type of music. Each week we eagerly studied the TV Guide like a horse racing program, excited to see who was appearing on the next show. We met Marvin Gaye and Barry White, who sang THE sexiest song ever. Oh, the way he talked at the beginning, “We got it together, didn’t we?” Smoking Hot Monkey Love Music. Mr. White knew he didn’t have to put Lil’ or P in front of his name to get and keep my attention. And ‘oh girl’ we laughed and danced and to The Chi-Lites and sang with Kool & the Gang. We sat in the den each Saturday night with a bowl of jiffy pop, waiting for the show to begin. And when it did, we all stood (including Daisy of course) and yelled “SOOOOOOOOOUL TRAAAAAIN!” together, with Mr. Cornelius, as loud and spirited as possible. Then we fell out on the shag carpet laughing. It was way more exciting than boring, stale, square American Band Stand. I felt sorry for plain vanilla, white toast, Dick Clark. Did he even know about Soul Train?

BUT, we were NOT allowed to watch Soul Train if Sammy Davis, Jr., was appearing. Daisy despised Sammy Davis, Jr. She crumpled her nose and made a face with just the mention of his name. His fake eye creeped her out and, in Daisy’s opinion, he couldn’t sing or dance “no better than her Old Pair of Pants!” (aka her husband). BestNicknameEver. So we never watched if Sammy Davis, Jr., was scheduled. She would rather listen to us sing “Knock Three Times” – that’s how much she hated Sammy Davis, Jr. Occasionally, just for fun, we played “The Candy Man” on our record player, to see her hilarious reaction.

Years later, whenever we went home to Arkansas for a visit, Daisy was to first to stop by to see us, running up the driveway squealing, “There’s my B-AAAAAA-B-IEEEEEEES!,” and giving us big, warm, bear hugs. She had a large family with lots of babies of her own, but she always called us her white babies. And she was our black momma. And, she said B-AAAAAA-B-IEEEEEEES just like Don Cornelius announced “Soul Train”. 

Daisy died a little over a year ago. I know she is missed by many, many people, including her two white babies. She was Kind. She was Smart. She was VERY Important. 
“They say it’s like true love, good help. You only get one in a lifetime.” 

RIP Don Cornelius and Daisy Mae Stevenson 


talya

Musical Pairings:
You’re the First, the Last, My Everything, Barry White


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Comments

  1. Help me Rhonda … what a sweet, sweet post! *wiping away tears* (of laughter AND sorrow!)

  2. Endearing! I remember those Hee Haw Saturday day nights at my grandparents house but Lawrence Welk was also included in the line-up!

  3. I have laughed and cried reading this. You have truly outdone yourself on this one! I still miss Daisy Mae and think of her often. I have a picture of her with the twins when they were babies. Will post if I can find it. Great memories!

  5. That is so sweet! I remember sunning at the Osceola Country Club with Daisy Mae….remember, we’d lay practically naked, covered with “crisco” (or is seemed like it) trying to cook our skin and Daisy Mae would lay some distance from us covered in towls in the shade. I think she didn’t want peeps to know she was actually with us! What fun we had!!

  6. Oh, Talya, I (too) laughed and cried reading this. Daisy Mae was ONE IN A MILLION. I sooo love the way you told the story. Especially the last line – was – a masterpiece!

  7. Loved this one. Remember when Daisy went to Little Rock with us? Who were the two girls who went with us? Becky? Lesa? I have forgotten. Daisy changed motels because the one we were in didn’t have a swimming pool Loved that Daisy Mae and sure do miss her.

  8. Tayla, Really enjoy your writings. Keep it up, we all laugh and cry with you. Remember Daisy Mae with her white babies.

  9. Talya, this story is SOOOOO GOOD (sounds like SOOOUL TRAAAIN)…haha…and thanks for the Soul Train memories. Regretfully, I never had the pleasure of meeting Daisy Mae. She sounds like a wonderful woman, and I’m quite sure she was. God puts people in our lives for a reason, and, besides the love and caring of your awesome Mom and Dad, I’m sure Daisy Mae’s loving soul played a key role, also, in how well you and Staci have turned out to be wonderful and fantastic women. I remember watching Soul Train right after Saturday Night Live went off, around midnight every Saturday night. Those were the days, and thanks for the memories. Keep up the great work, your blog is amazing!

  10. Talya, this one is special! I can feel the love you had for Daisy Mae. I enjoy reading your blog so much. Keep it Up. Carlene

  13. I’m going back through and rereading some of your stories this morning. They make a cup of good coffee even better!!! I want at least 4 copies of your blog when you decide to put it in a book…I also want several copies of your first book! Can’t wait!!! Timmie Lynn

Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

THANKS FOR READING!