Son, do you remember….

Dec 14, 2024 | 0 comments

When we went to Puerto Rico to visit Booker and Joyce Keyes during your spring break when you were 10? You had a good laugh at the lady who got out of the car which stopped to let her pee, right near the car, on our way for shopping. Or the side trip we took to St. Thomas? We flew on a small prop plane which took about 30 minutes for us to get there.
The ski trip to Crested Butte, Colorado, your first time skiing a real mountain. It was a bit much for both of us but you persevered and became a much better skier.
When you were six and we lived in an apartment right across from your elementary school, Brown Station in Gaithersburg, MD. We didn’t stay long and moved back with your father. But only for a short while. Then we stayed with a good friend in Frederick until our new townhouse on Climbing Ivy Drive was built. Remember when you liked to stop at the Weiss Market on your way home from school to get a donut with the extra lunch money you had?
When we went to visit a friend and her young son in Poughkeepsie, NY? Can you still see the crazy photos you and the little boy took?
When we tried to get Bo, our dog, to behave? Even when we tied him up outside he seemed to find a way to get loose and run away…several times!
The years we drove to and from Baltimore, or to St. Bernardine’s for Sunday School and church every other Sunday, and we created the little head moving dance as we rode? Or the game you would play recognizing the cars and who in the family had one like them? “Pop-Pop’s car! Grandma Wright’s car!”
When we were about to move to our new house in Prince George’s county, and you and I got a chance to attend a concert at Eleanor Roosevelt to see how grand their music program was? In order for you to attend, the band teacher told us to request a transfer based on a class that wasn’t taught at the school you were supposed to attend for our area. You learned Japanese for 3 years!
When you went to jazz camp at Montgomery College when you were 14? It was a challenge to figure out how to get you there for that week, but somehow we worked it out.
When we found a sax teacher who lived in Wheaton and you got great tips for playing? The teacher got tired of fixing your horn and suggested you get a new one. That might be the one you’ve had all this time!
When we went to the Kennedy Center to see The Phantom of the Opera and later the Dance Theatre of Harlem’s piece, “Dougla”? You were more interested in the orchestra pit than what was happening on the stage. 
When you wanted to get an A in band which meant you should participate in Festival, but you needed an accompanist? We found a recent graduate student from the University of Maryland at the last minute, and you got “1” ratings each time you performed with her. She ended teaching both us piano! How about the recitals she had and putting us in them as a duet?!
When you got accepted to Morehouse and we flew to Atlanta so that you could see the campus and get comfortable with an all-Black environment? And the cassette tape we made beforehand and sent to Mr. Gaines who told us you were good enough to get a grant!? Son, that gift really helped with tuition for 4 years!
That first year at Morehouse and all that you were exposed to? And at the end of the year you had to stay a little longer to sing for the commencement, which meant me and Mom drove to Atlanta several days later than we thought we had to, so that we could bring you back to Maryland? You looked so grown-up and all I could do was cry and thank God!

Son, I am so proud of you and all that you have accomplished. I must admit, I had no idea how to raise a boy to be a man and prayed that you would get manhood training from the men whose paths you crossed as you grew up. I’m sure you know who were your best teachers.

Love,
Ma

THE THOMAS A. WRIGHT JR. MEMORIAL SCHOLARSHIP

I’d like to tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a little boy who seemingly had all of the basic things in life. However, he just didn’t seem content. Aside from wanting to watch a lot of TV (something his mother tried hard to keep at a minimum), the boy just didn’t seem interested in anything even though he was a good student.

One day he brought home a permission slip from elementary school asking his mother to allow him to play an instrument in the band. The music teacher would attend once a week and teach the students how to play the instrument of their choice. The little boy said excitedly that he wanted to learn to play the saxophone. The mother rented the instrument and watched how he practiced almost every day. The mother was so pleased that she didn’t mind leaving work to attend the short concerts the school held occasionally. She saw her son become transformed. He went on to play saxophone in middle, high school, and college bands.

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