Short version (I hope); Born in Tallahassee, FL, one brother, died of polio when I was three, he was eleven... still have one fond memory of him from my crib (amazing, the memories left by our Lord which we cherish the most). Family prominence enabled me to have private   professional art instruction since the age of seven. Mom was teaching all the time, so I was more or less raised by our maid & housekeeper, “Georgie”... oh Georgie, how I miss you so. A little later mom and I moved in with my grandparents because they were getting on in age, and we had a yardman named “Lighting”, and was he ever a character, didn't like snakes, but I did, so I had a little fun with him every now and then. He didn't mind though. The southern blacks back then, at least to me, were such wonderful people, so full of wit and wisdom... and always so happy, despite the way they were persecuted. Going to end this for now, will continue later... Paulette, this is for you honey...                                                                              

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