A Star is Born

            A Star was born on November 1, 1915, but I always believed the star was born at 12:00 midnight on October 31^st. I thought the midwife concluded it was too hard to record that time, maybe she had not wanted to bring a child into the world at the witching hour on Halloween. It was easier to just write November 1^st. Amalia Consuelo (aka Star) practiced her witchy magic in the kitchen. She grew up during the depression, 6^th living child of a Scottish/Irish carpenter and a Spanish Señorita from New Orleans, her know-it-all mother. In that family she learned quickly that if you wanted something to eat, you had to “fix it” yourself. I never saw my grandmother cook anything but tuna salad and Campbell’s Tomato Soup. However, Consuelo picked up the necessary skills to be numbered among the GOATS of all time and I cannot fathom anyone teaching her.                

            During the depression, Consuelo moved to Tuscaloosa to live with her brother Johnny and work at the Paper Mill. She changed her name to Connie because no one in Tuscaloosa could either spell or pronounce Consuelo. There she met the brothers of a Tuscaloosa born Campbell Family of Scottish decent and Atlanta, Georgia peach with an American Indian heritage. After dating several of the Campbell brothers, Connie married Molton (Boney), and had three daughters (1942 and twins in 1943.) During the war, they moved to Pascagoula Mississippi where Boney worked in ship building industry and Connie picked up the bayou cooking techniques. After the war ended, they moved back to Tuscaloosa and their youngest daughter was born in 1948. That would be me. 

             I loved the story of my birth because I was rejected. I was born at Northington Hospital, an army hospital that was the temporary home of Druid City Hospital while the new facility was being built. My mama always said August 2^nd was the hottest day of the year (before air conditioning) and she was in labor all day long, eating crushed ice to stay cool. I was born at 9:30 in the evening so she didn’t see me until the next morning when a nurse waltzed into the room to introduce her to her latest daughter. After one look, Mama said, “that’s not mine,” and sent the nurse away, rejected baby in tow. I did not look like her other babies – fair skinned, blond hair and blue eyes. Her children were all dark haired, olive complexion with dark eyes. Mama’s mother (Amalia “Molly”) was with her at the time and with her bayou wisdom declared, “See there Consuelo, I told you if you had your babies at home, this wouldn’t happen.” 

            Several minutes later, Dr. Shamblin and the nurse with baby returned to the room. Dr. Shamblin stood at the bed and said, “Mrs. Campbell, I don’t know whose baby that is, but that’s the one you had last night. To which Mama replied, “Okay then, I’ll take it.” So, I became a member of a crazy wackadoddle family and never looked back.

            I learned a lot growing up in this family. My sisters taught me that sometimes, “you might as well be talking to a tree stump because I don’t care what you are saying anyway.” Daddy taught me how to play poker, drink whiskey, and shoot pool; his most important lesson to me was “never cheat at Solitaire.” Mama taught me how to love your family, work all day long, and always said, “Education is the one thing no one can take from you.” But most importantly she taught me how to make a roux and I watched her cook every night and I learned important quirky things. 

            Somehow in this chaotic environment, family meant everything, and any gathering of people involved food. We had large family reunions, church homecomings, evenings gathered around the table and delicious home cooking. No carry out burgers or pizzas, no quarts of salad from Sam’s, and nothing frozen arranged on an aluminum pan. Everything was either locally grown or fresh from the neighborhood grocery store. Our food was from the heart and soul of the cooks and it was always special. I don’t want to lose that! I won’t let us lose that. I’m sure Coco is our biggest star, shining in the dark night sending us light as we keep our traditions alive and celebrate the love each of us have for our family. As we gather for family meals, I’m sure our Star Coco is cheering us on!