Why Blanche White and Daddy Didn’t Speak by Kelley Jean White

Blanche Cole was your Granny Venie’s youngest sister, she and Venie
and Helen were the only one’s never weighed over 250 so you come
by your weight honest. Blanche married into a family of Whites, no
relation to you (well, she’s a relation to you on my side but I mean
not on your father’s), David White might be my last surviving
cousin. Last I heard he was alive—No—I do not want you looking him up
on that internet thing, put it down now. Daddy said Blanche weren’t no
bigger than a popcorn fart. So them Whites was Jehovah’s Witnesses
and one day Daddy was out in front a the house drawing water from
the well and this Jehovah’s Witness come a long and set up—in those
days they used to travel with a wind-up Victrola and they’d offer to play
you some salvation music or preaching—and this Jehovah’s Witness he
set his up and wound it up and Daddy said you can stop that and the man
said well, wouldn’t you just want to listen to Jesus Christ our Lord who
came to earth to save people like you. And Daddy said well the Son-of-a-Birch didn’t stay long enough did he. And that were Blanche’s brother-in-law he said that to. Blanche’d still show up at sickbeds and funerals but
Daddy’d always go outa the room. David White weren’t allowed to play at all. Wore a little suit and bowtie. But he’s my cousin. Helen’s grandkids, those would be my cousins once removed, looked him up in Bridgeport. No, don’t you even think about driving me there. I won’t go. No.