“Boy, your Daddy didn’t play. He would cut your ass before God got the news."

Robert was worldly, formidable, and intense. He was a fierce brawler, high stakes gambler, womanizer, and a boundless nonconformist. He was a television-smashing abuser, the carrier of a 510 Mossberg pump shotgun, pistols, and wickedly surgical with a switchblade. Any corner that Robert was backed into may be the last corner the assailant would ever see.

He was a philanderer and intensely controlling.

My mother’s name is Kate. She was only sixteen when she married Robert, and too young to counter his dominance. While in the bed of another woman Robert died violently at the age of twenty-seven. This occurred when I was eight months. I was the youngest of her three children and without knowledge that Robert ever existed. By the time I reached high school I became the target of Kate’s living revenge against a dead man.

"After over five decades, I finally discovered my paternal roots. In December 2021, I made the pilgrimage to Albany, GA. Regardless of Robert's notoriety and the sadness of his life, I was simply interested in listening."

I was 15 years old the first time I heard a reference to Robert, he was also known as "Bay". Kate was in the backyard on the patio with my older brother. She was angry with him for some misdeed, and her voice projected. I was inside of the house in the adjacent den. It was summer so the windows and the interior back door were open. In the midst of expressing her disapproval, she yelled, “You know Carl is not your father!” Upon hearing the statement, my mind froze and I could hear nothing else. Kate’s loud confession was a betrayal by her own mouth. I knew if Carl was not his biological father, then he was also not mine. Everyone in my family already knew, but I was intentionally left in the dark. Even after that encounter, no family member has ever volunteered a discussion regarding Robert. The concealment was collective.

CKB-LUCAS - AUTHOR