Monday, June 11, 2007
Monday, April 02, 2007
Our Family Legacy
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3776/652/320/528702/mama%20sara%20joyce%20doreen.jpg)
Mama Sarah with Doreen and Joyce in front of the house in Pea Ridge. At this point, there was still a red clay road and the field behind them went on forever.
Big Shoes to Fill
First of all let me start off by saying I miss you Pop. I lived next to you for so long that I know I could make this letter into a book. I just want to let you know that all the fishing trips, the trips to Pensacola-just all the time spent period was needed and was very much appreciated. I needed that time from a father figure and that is what you are to me. You are my painted picture of a perfect father. Hopefully I can walk in your shoes in that field and be the best father to my kids I can possibly be.
My fondest memory of Pop is when not too long ago, I was teasing him about crying all the time about Mama Sarah. When we had a memorial service for her I broke down and started crying worse than I had ever seen him cry! Pop is very interesting and he makes me proud every time I think if him. He is very wise and I appreciate all the time that I have spent with him. I have put in a lot of time with Pop. I love you Pop and I’ll holla at you later. I hope to see you soon.
Raising Children Today
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3776/652/320/766874/DSCN0052.jpg)
Pictured are great grandchildren Brittany, Courtney, Destiny, Jalen and grandson, Marcus
Graduation Day
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3776/652/320/788041/foto_coleman%5B1%5D.jpg)
By James Farrell Coleman, Jr.
I have two favorite recollections with Pops. The first is his visit to New Haven, Connecticut at my Yale graduation. The memory that comes to me is that Pops and Mama Sarah were such a kind, composed, dignified and good looking couple. If no one informed you otherwise, you wouldn't know if they were family members, or professors presenting diplomas that day!The second memory of Pop is when I had the honor of walking Mama Sarah down the aisle during their renewal of wedding vows at their fiftieth wedding celebration. Mama Sarah was a little nervous but you could easily see and feel the excitement in Pop. I don't know if I've ever been that close to two people so happy and deserving of each other. It's a blessing that few of us will ever experience. I will never forget it.
James F. Coleman, MD, is the oldest child of James F. and Edith Paul Coleman. A graduate of Yale University and Harvard Medical School, he is a plastic surgeon with office locations in Beverly Hills and Orange County California. His practice encompasses both aesthetic and reconstructive surgery. He holds dual board certification in both plastic surgery and surgery of the hand. His professional memberships include American Society of Plastic Surgeons and American Society for Surgery of the Hand. Visit www.colemanplasticsurgery.com.
The Air I Breathe
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3776/652/320/713857/joyce.jpg)
by Joyce Paul
I love you, Pop, and you are dearer to me than the air that I breathe. I have so many wonderful memories of being with you but I think the most precious ones of those that I have experienced since Mom went to home to be with the Lord. You have shared so many things with me about your childhood and young adult years, your school years, purchasing your first car with Uncle Lando, your encounters with racism, and my favorite story is when you met and married my mother.
Thank you, Pop, for making that commitment and staying with my mother for almost 60 years. Thanks for having me, YOUR FAVORITE CHILD. Now, I will get out of there and let the granddaughters continue their debate on Who's Who.
P.S. Yo, Pop… I still love you very much but I must include the time that Big and I were arguing at seven in the morning. She wanted to wear my skirt and blouse, but when she tried it on, she changed her mind and wanted to wear what I had on. When I wouldn't take it off, we got into a heated argument and you got out of bed and whipped me. Those three licks scared my life. That is one of the few times in my life that I was innocent.
Joyce Beverly Paul is the seventh child born to Robert and Sarah. She has one child, Kory Drayton. Joyce is a graduate of Bethune Cookman College in Daytona Beach, Florida. She studied further at Princeton University in New Jersey. She is currently a high school math teacher in Dekalb County, Georgia.
Joyce Paul’s Best Carrot Cake
2 c all purpose flour
2 tsp baking soda
½ tsp salt
2 tsp ground cinnamon
3 large eggs
2 c sugar
¾ cup vegetable oil
¾ cup buttermilk
2 tsp vanilla extract
2 c grated carrots
1 8 oz can crushed pineapple (drained)
1 3 ½ oz can of flaked coconut
1 cup chopped pecans or walnuts
Golden raisins handful mixed in cake batter
Line three 9” cake pans with wax paper. Lightly grease and flour wax paper. Set pans aside. Stir together first four (4) ingredients. Beat eggs and next four (4) ingredients at medium speed with an electric mixer until smooth. Add flour mixture, beating at low speed until blended. Fold in carrots and next three (3) ingredients. Pour batter into prepared pans. Bake at 350 degrees for 25-30 minutes or until toothpick inserted comes out clean. Drizzle buttermilk glaze evenly over layers. Cool in pan on wire rack for 15 minutes. Remove the pans and cool completely on wire racks. Spread cream cheese frosting between layers and on sides of cake.
(*First four ingredients in sifter three (3) times—do all cakes this way)
Buttermilk Glaze
1 cup sugar
½ tsp baking soda
½ cup buttermilk
½ cup butter or margarine
1 tbsp light corn syrup
1 tsp vanilla extract
Bring first five (5) ingredients to a boil in large Dutch oven over medium heat. Boil, stirring often for four (4) minutes. Remove from heat then stir in vanilla.
Frosting
¾ c butter softened
1 8 oz package cream cheese softened
1 3 oz package cream cheese softened
3 cups powdered sifted sugar
1 1/2 tsp vanilla extract
Beat first three (3) ingredients at medium speed until creamy. Add powdered sugar and vanilla until smooth.
City Lights
One special thought came to my mind when asked to write a memorable time with my dad and it is the story he tells sometimes about the trip I took to Mobile, Alabama with Mom when I was a baby. Daddy said he guesses I had gotten used to the city lights and didn't know him and didn't want him to hold me when he came down there just a few days later. I don't remember that, but one of my most memorable times with my dad was when he spoke about me during the appreciation my family had for me the summer of 1997. It brings tears to your eyes when your siblings, parents, husband, kids, and family think so much of you and have a special day just for you. Most of all, it is very, very special to hear your Mom and extra special to hear your Dad say great things about you. That will remain dear to my heart forever. I love you, Dad.
Winifred Syneatha Coleman is the Paul’s fourth daughter. She was born on April 5, 1950. She was delivered by Mrs. Rosie Lewis. Winifred is married to Fred B. “Buck” Coleman. They have two children: Marcus Jari Coleman and Marci Coleman.
Sarah Paul became an ordained minister July 25, 1978
NON PROFIT -- INTERNATIONAL-- NON SECTARIAN
SARAH PAUL, STATE OF ALABAMA, JULY 25, 1978
Was duly ordained as MINISTER OF THE GOSPEL AND IS HEREBY AUTHORIZED TO PREACH, TEACH, PERFORM MARRIAGE AND ALL THE ARTS SCIENCES AND REQUISITES OF A MINISTER. THE HOLDER OF THIS CERTIFICATE IS WELL QUALIFIED TO DEMONSTRATE THE LAW OF LIGHT, LOVE AND TRUTH AND IS WORTHY AND ENTITLED TO ALL THE BENEFITS, PRIVILEGES OF FELLOWSHIP OF RELIGIOUS BODIES THROUGHOUT THE UNIVERSE
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3776/652/320/87205/Ordination%20Cerficiate.jpg)
Spiritual True Holiness Church of God
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3776/652/320/667769/church.jpg)
Many a day and night were spent here at the Spiritual True Holiness Church of God where Mama Sarah was Overseer and Pastor.
Many kids grew up playing school. We played church, with pie pan tambourines and lots of practice sharing our "testimonies" that often went like this:
I want to thank the Lord for being here tonight. Thank the Lord for my Pastor, for life, health and strength, for waking me up this morning because my bed could've been my cooling board but the Lord saw fit to let me see another day. I just ask that those who know the value of prayer pray for me in these last and evil days.
Life Lessons
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3776/652/320/859200/brunette2.jpg)
It is most difficult trying to choose just one memorable time to write about when you have such a great father. Growing up as the second born in a family of six girls and two boys, a father who was very involved in church: Sunday school superintendent, church deacon, among other church duties. One memory I have that I’ll treasure forever is that of Daddy’s wonderful singing. He sang gospels at church and other places and was also a member of a community quartet for awhile. A few of the songs that I enjoyed were It’s In my Mind, When We All Get to Heaven and a Christmas song I had never heard until Daddy sang it just two years ago at one of our family gatherings. The song is called When Was Jesus Born.
As a young child, I loved when he would drive us to town on Saturday afternoon so that we kids could shop with the allowance we had been given. Daddy would surprise us on some Sunday nights after church and drive us to Nolan’s in Flomaton, Alabama where he would treat us to an ice cream cone. Each kid got to choose his or her favorite flavor. Then during the Christmas season, he would drive us in the car at night to view various lighted Christmas displays. He would ride us around Brewton and on up the road going toward Casselberry, Alabama.
During my teenage years, I recall him having us gathering collard greens from our garden to sell to Teal Grocery Store. This happened during a time when Daddy was on strike from the local lumber mill where he was employed. That year of all years, I had never seen such big leaves. I mean and they were tender too. We used what we had to help get what we needed.
Even though our family had no running water and had to haul water from a spring, Daddy insisted that we wash each leaf and make BIG bunches! We kids, in a most respectful way, showed Daddy how clean the leaves were without the extra rinsing he required and we mentioned the fact that each customer would wash their greens in preparation for cooking anyway. He still insisted that we rinse them prior to tying each bunch.
Needless to say, we grumbled amongst ourselves after Dad was clearly out of our sight and certainly where he could not hear us. We obeyed his instructions, however. We didn’t realize it at that very stage in life we were being taught great skills. He was teaching us to be diligent in what you do.
As an adult, I cherish times with him as he spent time with his first grandchild, my daughter Joy, who fondly began calling him “Daddy Robert” when she became old enough to talk. He appeared more gentle than ever before.
As a more mature adult, my favorite time with Daddy has been going fishing with him and Mom at various catfish farms. I loved the times “swimming” with him and family members in the family’s pool that he had worked tirelessly for months to have the water just right for all of us “swimmers.” Even though most of us adult non-swimmers donned life jackets and/or clung to the sides of the pool, Daddy always had the pool ready for all to enjoy.
I want Daddy to know how appreciative I am of the life skills he taught us such as resourcefulness, compassion, gentleness, honesty, integrity, sincerity and a love for God and humanity.
Brunette is the second child born to Robert and Sarah Paul. She was delivered by midwife, Mrs. Ellen Doyle. She is the first of the Paul children to be able to attend college, graduating from Stillman College in Tuscaloosa, AL. After marrying, she got sophisticated and added an “e” and became Brunette. She majored in elementary education. She taught school for 31 years in Florida and has been retired since June 1994. She has one child, a daughter, Joy.
Taking Flight
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3776/652/320/16427/DSCN0038.jpg)
-Robert Paul, May 2004
Edith left home at the age of 18 and went to St. Louis, Missouri to live with Frances in 1957.
Recorded in family bible by Sarah Paul
by Edith Coleman
First of all I thank God for giving us a super-great-father. Of course when I was much younger, I could not understand for the life of me where did Mudear get this mean man from. I am saying that today as I write this but knowing me back then I was afraid to even think too long on that, thinking you would know what I was thinking. I was so afraid of you just like you were the "Boogey Man" but thank God today for that.
One day in 1968 the phone rang and you were on the line saying, "Look uh here... I am thinking about coming there for a few days if that is alright with y’all." Oh I got so excited! I said "Yes Daddy you all come on". You said "I am thinking about coming by myself. I am thinking about taking a flight." I was really in a total shock as Daddy is going to take a flight to come see me.
Then I thought, Daddy is coming alone, it was his first flight and I have never taken a flight.
Within the next two weeks on a Sunday afternoon in May, 1968 (I can remember like it was yesterday, not the month and year, as I had to ask you.) You came down the steps of that Eastern airline plane at Lambert Field walking to the building with your suit jacket swinging on your hand over your shoulder alone with about seven or eight other fellows. You all were walking and chatting like you all were on the way to a big conference. That was a day I will never forget.
I did not take a picture when the plane came in. I may not have had a camera, but took one of the plane after you had boarded and the plane was on its way out. I will never forget that. We have had many other great, great times in my life since I realized you were not the mean man but a Super Great Father. I love you Daddy!
A Grand Father
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3776/652/320/599846/joy.jpg)
by Joy Jones
How awesome it is that you have gotten to be around for eight decades plus some change! I cannot imagine what it must be like for you to have lived to see so very many changes in the world, especially how greatly things have changed for Black people in the south. Surely things still need to improve, but I know just how vastly things have changed during your years.
I recall the first summer I came to stay with you and Mama Sarah. I was in third grade. It never seemed like work to me-- scratching your dandruff, running your bath water and shelling peas and beans. I remember shelling peas alongside Mama Sarah in those white plastic bowls and wanting nothing more than to fill my bowls as effortlessly as she did. I learned to iron on an ironing board in your dining room when Mama Sarah would have me ironing your handkerchiefs. I was so proud to iron those perfect squares. What a gift it was for Mama Sarah to teach how to work without it ever feeling like work!
You would come in late at night on the bus from Monsanto. I actually remember riding with Mama Sarah a time or two to meet the bus in town. “Town” was the biggest place there was, it seemed. I never knew what you did for a living as a kid. I was surprised when I got older to learn that you were a janitor at Monsanto. You just were always dressed so nicely and smelled so good that I was surprised. That’s a lesson there-to always look your best; no matter what you are doing. I always admired your service plaques in the den that marked your outstanding service there. I remember Mama Sarah coming in early in the morning dressed in her nurse whites early in the morning. God knows I didn’t realize she was working the “graveyard shift”. I thought she was the HNIC (head nurse in charge). I didn’t know until years later that she was a nurse’s aide. I never heard either of you complain about being tired, nor did I ever hear of your being disappointed in your work, your co-workers or your employers. From both of you I learned that the honor of a job is not so much in the title but in the approach to the work that you do. You bring honor to whatever it is that you do. You both did that.
I loved and looked forward to everything I got to do with you and Mama Sarah. Life itself was entertainment and I never even knew the word “bored” with you. I can still taste the batter in the bowls from the cakes Mama Sarah would bake from scratch. I can see the sausage and the fresh peas and greens on the table that were served on those dark green plates. Food was always set banquet style “like rich folks”. And the meals…oh the meals! Lunch and supper were such hearty meals…all those vegetables cooked to perfection. Can a girl get some butter beans or peas? I was fascinated by the fires you would start to burn the trash out back. You all really were resourceful. There wasn’t a whole lot to burn. And dog food? Was there ever any bought? I remember your big, black dog, “Bear.” Bear had to love all those grits and “leftovers.”
The loaded pear tree and what seemed to be miles and miles of rows of corn, peas, sugar cane, tomatoes and squash made your back yard seem to go on forever. I even remember the mule plowing your garden and hanging the clothes on the clothesline.
So much has changed there now, but I have a wealth of memories there. I got my first letter in the mail at Route 6, Box 37. Now your address is Werlin Street and it is paved. Back then, Werlin Street was solid red clay. I remember when you still had a front porch with that green gliding sofa. There was nothing but corn planted in front of your house as far as the eye could see. We used to spend every Christmas there and open the gifts on Christmas Eve. There were no streetlights and if you opened your eyes at night it was black as pitch-even with your eyes open. I could have sworn I heard Santa Claus when I was asleep back in Doreen’s bedroom the year I got my Christie doll with the green dress and the hair that “grew.”
I actually got to play at the old schoolhouse my Mama and her siblings attended. I remember nearly having my jaw lock from eating a persimmon off one of the trees on the way to the schoolhouse one day. Imagine how many generations old those persimmons were! I learned to make a rock skip water at O’Bannon’s Creek one summer when Ray (Uncle Richard) took Rhonda and me swimming there. They said there were moccasins there.
One day when you had the Falcon station wagon, you took Rhonda and me into town. I believe we went to Bill’s Dollar Store. You parked it, left Rhonda and me inside sitting in the backseat and didn't let up the parking brake. Well, the car started rolling backward and someone jumped in and pulled up the parking brake. Thanks for not locking the door. We might have rolled back to Pea Ridge! I can still smell the scent of your yellow Chevy with the black interior. You all would let me blow the horn around the curve up by your house to signal the other drivers. At night you would flash the bright lights. And of course there were the banana moon pies and bowls of vanilla ice cream. You loved yourself some ice cream!
Since I’ve grown older, I’ve discovered that you are a great storyteller with the most awesome memory. I'll never forget you talking about how you and Mama Sarah met over a 15 cent Pepsi at a turpentine camp, that you were good at pitching a baseball, how you were the tallest boy at school and when basketball came about the teacher had you chop down the tree to make the pole to put up the goal.
I was both saddened and enraged by the story that you shared about the time you were going courting with your brother and the white men wet you up in your new clothes when you stopped to use the bathroom at the gas station. What amazed me the most is how you told me that story without the slightest hint of anger or animosity at their racist brutality toward you. That displays such forgiveness and resilience. It is so easy for people my age and younger to say what they would or wouldn’t have been able to do as far as suffering the insults and slights by white folks back then. I am strengthened by the fact that in spite of how hard times were for black people; you kept on keeping on. Not only that, you put your family before pride and you kept your back straight and have always had such dignity. Thank you for being such a great example of what it takes to endure and overcome. It would have been so easy to quit, but you held your family intact.
I have always admired you and Mama Sarah's marriage. It was a great partnership and a model for us all. What I witnessed is that she really served you at home. You had to feel like the “king of the castle.” I saw nothing but love and respect there. And you really seemed to accept that the church was her domain. She was your spiritual shepherd. You all were way before your time in that regard. I am glad that you saw that was her gift and calling and that you respected and supported her in that. As much as I loved spending the summers with you, I would also look forward to the time I would live, as you always made sure I had something in my pocket on the way home. I can remember to this day being in the back of my Mama’s blue Volkswagen waving goodbye to you and Mama Sarah as you stood in your driveway as you both stood there and waved back.
What makes me happiest is that my children, your great grandchildren, have gotten a chance to spend so much quality time with you. They also have memories of your touch and words and smell that they will be able to share those memories with their children. You will live forever in us all.
Joy Jones is the first born grandchild of Robert and Sarah Paul. She is Brunette's only child. Joy is a University of Pittsburgh graduate and is the editor of publications for Tupperware Brands Corporation. She developed this blog.
Hairstory
One of my memorable times with Pop was during one of our summer family reunions. Ebony and I were stirring up trouble and Pop told us to quite down a little bit and we said okay.
When he fell asleep, Ebony and I decided to play a joke on him. We waited until he was asleep and we took some barrettes from our hair and put in his hair. When he woke up, he said he was going to the store and we went with him.
We started to tell him, but we thought it would be fun if we left them in when we went to the store. While in the store, we were laughing so hard we had to tell him! We were only about six or seven years old. Thanks for all the fun times, Pop, especially the fishing trips and my favorite, the Barnhill trips. I love you.
Marcie is the youngest child of Fred B. ("Buck") and Winifred ("Winnie", "Boney") Synetha Paul.
Son In Laws
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3776/652/320/703696/DSCN0060.jpg)
We have an interesting anomaly in our family. Two of the Paul sisters married brothers, James and Fred Coleman of St. Louis. Here they are pictured left to right. These are their remembrances of Robert Paul.
Tough!
By Fred Coleman
No need to ask if the man is tough
Raising eight kids you know it got rough
A lesser man might have got his hat
But we all know he ain't that kind of cat
His raising eight encourage me to see it through
Hell, I think it's tough and I only got two
Could have had more to spend if he was the selfish kind
But money can't buy his peace of mind
Days like this make it all worthwhile
Getting compliments from his most rebellious child
Summing up how he got through all those days
He will tell you he prayed and he stayed
Fred “Buck” Coleman is married to Winifred Syneatha, the sixth child. They have two children, Marcus Jari Coleman and Marci J. Coleman. Jari graduated from the University of Missouri at Columbia with a degree in information technology.
Coffee Time
James F. Coleman, Sr.
One night, I will say about 20 years ago, we were all sitting around in the den and Daddy Robert decided to get up and go in the kitchen and in a few minutes he called Fred and me.
During that time he was not cooking, etc but he said,
“I made us coffee and we can sit around and chat.” He had Mama Sarah’s best china and he had the best silverware and we sat at the table and he came and sat down and had his cup of coffee in his hand. He started drinking and we were just talking while he was sipping his coffee. Fred and I were sitting there with empty cups and we nodded at each other but both were afraid to say, "Where is our coffee?"
So we picked our cups up but never went to our mouth and it donned on him that he had not served us with coffee. He fell to the floor on his knees laughing. It was so hilarious I will never forget that setting!
James Farrell Coleman is married to Edith Coleman. James and his brother Fred knew how to insure that the sister in laws had something in common, so they married sisters!
Big Fish
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3776/652/320/7888/doreen.jpg)
A very special day in particular was one that we spent on the bank at Jimmy Watson’s catfish pond. Keith had me to call Edith and see if she, James and Dad wanted to fish. The Watson’s had just completed their week of family reunion and each time they do get together; Jimmy fills the pond with fish, so we got to go after some of what was left. Keith and I had been fishing about an hour and a half when the rest of the family arrived with Keith only catching a few tiny fish. Along came Pop. He smiled, threw his line out and in less than 90 seconds pulled out a big catfish. Then it was fun and fishing the rest of the afternoon. I had never been around my oldest sister, Edith, James and Stacey without the rest of the family being around until that day and we shared it with Daddy. It was so special to me. Whether they realize it or not, I don’t know, but what started out as just another Saturday morning finding something to do in Brewton turned out to be a day of so much fun that I wished all of my family could have been there.
I love you Dad.
Doreen, an LPN is the baby of the family. She followed in Mama Sarah's shoes.
Wisdom from Robert Paul
This is what he had to say :
Love
I know the Bible says overcome evil with love. Sometimes that’s hard, but if something coming hard against you, if you can put out good, you’ll be happy when you do that when you see the blessing coming back. But if you go the other way to evil, you don’t have nothing coming back…to overcome evil with good that’s tight on you.
-Robert Paul
Humility
Don’t think yourself too highly than you ought to think. We can think pretty big sometimes.
-Robert Paul
Discretion
Sometimes we ought not say everything you think. It don’t do to tell everything you know, keep some things to yourself.
Robert Paul
Patience
Don’t let nothing rush you.
Robert Paul
Marriage
It’s alright. Nothing wrong with being married. You have to work hard at it sometimes to keep it standing. It may get old. Whatever it takes to get ‘em you have to keep doing it to keep ‘em. Don’t let it get too common. When you get to where you don’t care, someone else is over there caring.
Robert Paul
Living Right
I just believe in living right and treating everybody right. Sometimes it won’t come back to you the way you put it out, but in the long run it’ll all work out.
Robert Paul
Robert Paul's Lineage
![](http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/3776/652/320/367067/DSCN0096.jpg)
Robert Paul was born June 6, 1919.
His grandfather’s name was Robert Paul and his grandmother was named Mary.
His father, Grover Cleveland Paul was born September4, 1889 and died September 26, 1943. Grover married his mother, Annie Jane Ponds who is buried in Red Bay, Florida. Annie Ponds died at a young age.
His siblings are Claude Paul (deceased), Aaron Paul, Enoch Paul (deceased), Alfretta Paul, Orlando Paul (deceased) and Marie Paul.
Family Tree
Edith Paul born July 26, 1940
Brunett Paul born February 1, 1942
James Aaron Paul born August 31, 1945
Broncile Paul born June 22, 1947
John Richard Paul born March 25, 1949
Winifred Syneatha Paul born April 5, 1950
Joyce Beverly Paul born May 11, 1952
Doreen Aleatha Paul born July 6, 1955
Three children died at birth. All were girls. They are buried in the Oak Grove family cemetery in the community of Pea Ridge and their deaths are recorded in the family Bible in Mama Sarah’s handwriting:
Betty Jean Paul September 3, 1943
Baby Girl August 21, 1944
Janet Marie Paul April 4, 1951