When Suzette’s grandfather falls ill, she get’s curious about what better care could look like. Instead of continuing the family bootlegging business, she pursues a career in nursing.
When Suzette’s grandfather falls ill, she get’s curious about what better care could look like. Instead of continuing the family bootlegging business, she pursues a career in nursing.
Suzette Hairston: My name is Suzette Hairston, formerly Suzette Key. I'm from Portsmouth, Virginia, born and raised. I grew up in an area called Churchland. Churchland has subdivisions and I grew up in a subdivision of Churchland called Ebony Heights.
The Black community mostly say Old Churchland, the white community mostly say Ebony Heights.
Old Churchland, it was the main street. I was born and raised 5912 Dunkirk Street. If somebody were to come to the neighborhood, they would say, Okay, well, what street do I go on? Okay, just keep on going down. Dunkirk greenhouse on the corner." It's a landmark and it's still sitting there today.
My Mom was a single mom and she worked. So we would go to my Granddad's house. Every single day, my Grandmom died when I was 14. So I have no, no recollection of her ever walking, being out of the bed at all.
Nichole Hill: She had rheumatoid arthritis but the family didn’t know how to treat it and doctors didn’t provide them with much insight or guidance.
Suzette: She was just in agony, just pain, constant pain. But my aunts and my uncles, my mom, they took turns taking care of her. She never went to a nursing home. Never had skin breakdown, never had to be hospitalized. Never. So they just took turns taking care of her.
My mom, sisters and brothers, none of them have education past sixth grade. So kind of tough.
Nichole Hill: And her Grandfather looked after the kids
Suzette: Everything that I learned growing up came from my grandfather. So Grocery shopping, cooking, whatever it was, he did it. School plays, you name it, it was my Granddad. And up until I was 17, if we didn't live there, me and my cousins we went there every single day.
Every single day. Even when my mom did move out, we still went there. We went there after school. We would stay there weekends, holidays, you name it. So it was me and my cousins. I am the oldest child, but people think that I'm a really a child of my grandfather's, but I'm not, I'm the oldest grandchild.
And then everybody else comes behind me. But when it was time to do something, he would load us all up in his car and we would, we would go. that was my life up until I was, till I was 18.
(Snare drum music underscores the following)
Growing up my Grandfather was a bootlegger prohibition times. It was illegal to sell liquor. But that's how he, he made his money. He, was in the army and then that's the only job I've ever known him to have was being a bootlegger.
Nichole Hill: What was he selling?
(Music stops)
Suzette: Anything that I guess that was cheap back then. I'm not real sure. Vodka. I know that he would go to the liquor store on Mondays. Every Monday for the prepare for the week and we would go to the liquor store, he would get cigarettes and then we would get groceries. Every single Monday.
So just variety, vodka, gin, whatever, whatever, whatever they drank.
My granddad's shots were 50 cent. Now, they're like three dollars
A bootlegger is illegally selling alcohol in, in a place that is not, is not licensed. You shouldn't be doing it. But that's the way they make money. They take their liquor and they sell it.
He had a house that--that he he had in the back that he made that was a shed that he turned into his, his spot.
So it's the honeycomb hideout. You wouldn't know. You have to be told by somebody. Even, even back then you wouldn't, it's word of mouth. So it's like a juke joint, it's word of mouth. And if the police comes, it's a wrap. We shut it down. It's over. We're not doing nothing. We just having a get together.
(Slow sentimental music underscores the following)
I was born in 1972. My Great Grandma, which is my Grandfather's Mom, she was a bootlegger. So so that's probably, I'ma go 60s up until 80s. It was just a way to make money. He just kept on going with it and he just never stopped and that was his way of making money. He didn't go to a job after the army. So, that was his way and evidently he made really good money because we went and got groceries and he bought his liquor and his cigarettes every week and we never missed a beat.
(Music fades, and transitions to bluesy music with bar sounds, cards flipping)
His customers would come by daily, twice a day, and he would he would sell his drinks and they would play cards. Cards, dominoes, horseshoes, All the manly things I learned how to do from that atmosphere growing up. So I could play cards, I could horseshoes, dominoes, you name it. I can pretty much do it.
We weren't really allowed to be like after like seven, people started getting off the work and people started to really get drunk, we wasn't allowed to be around the men.
Nichole Hill: He was protective and attentive and loving and seemed invincible until…
(Music distorts into a fade)
Suzette: He smoked and he would smoke non filtered cigarettes, which I didn't know until later on in life that that's the worst cancer stick you could ever smoke.
It was horrible. And he smoked Lucky Stripe and they were non filtered and he had a stroke. When he went down from having his stroke is when I really, really understood the impact and the role that he played in my life. Because when he went to the VA hospital and when we went to visit him, it would be "Okay, Dad, you got to get it together."
(Soft synthetic piano)
Back then, Black America, Portsmouth poor, we, we didn't have, we didn't have money. You might have had a air condition in one room, maybe.
I can remember times where all seven of my aunts, uncles, and my mom me and kids, all of us stayed in that one house with my Grandad. So no money. My mom was a single mom. She worked two jobs all the time. So she wasn't around as much, so I had my Grandad. But my Granddad was the one who picked up the pieces, but when he got cancer Poor black America only had the word of the white doctors.
At that time, Black people were just getting empowered. So they dare not ask a question to a white person, let alone a doctor, somebody who has all this education and somebody who's supposed to know way more than you, somebody that's prominent in the community. So, oh no, you didn't question. You just took their word for it. and that was it. So when he got cancer, it was like, okay, what do we do now? And he was like, "Well, they said there's nothing else that they couldn't do."
So I was mad at him for a long time because I'm like, okay, why are we not fighting? What is the alternative?
And he just was, "well, they didn't say that." So I was like, "well, okay, I'm going to the doctor with you." So then it was like, okay, well, who do you think you are? You just a little teenager. You know what I mean? You you're, you're 18 years old. I think you're going to go in and question these doctors, these doctors know more than you.
I was looked at as rebel kind of. And I was like, okay, well maybe let's just get a second opinion.
And he was like, "You have to get it that I'm not going to be here."
And it was like, "No, I can't. I can't accept that. I refuse. I refuse to accept it." And the pushback was well you are--We black people we don't we don't question white people. We don't go against what they know we don't have enough information. We don't have enough knowledge. So we have to take their word for it. And there wasn't any black doctors that we knew that we could say, ask such and such. You know what I mean?
So, it devastated me. So and then that was when I really, really, really understood the impact that he had on my life. Cause it was like, okay, what am I going to do without him?
(Music ends)
Nichole Hill: He eventually passed away when Suzette was just 21.
Suzette: And for a long time, it took me like many, many, many years to get over him passing and me not having the knowledge to get over it.
Nichole Hill: The feelings of helplessness around her grandfather’s passing lead Suzette to enroll in nursing school which was a feat. She was the first in her family to apply for financial aid. She was also the first to forgo immediate income in order to pursue a higher level of education. But she was highly motivated to do whatever she had to to find the answers to her questions about what happened to her Grandfather and to others in her community.
Suzette: So I went to nursing school and I studied, studied, studied because I was so intrigued by. What, what is cancer? Why is it happening to the black community? What can I do to break the cycle? What can I do?
Working at the hospital, people, A, don't have insurance, and B, people are at the brink of death before they even come in. You got people that's not taking care of themselves, you got all these people that's coming in with diabetes, more than ever, and it's got all these co-morbidities people are overweight and it does not have to be, and it's just about changing the mindset, changing the culture. Okay. Look, we need you to get a checkup. We need you to just go in and just get a physical. And the thing is--I hear a lot. Well, I don't want to go to the doctor because the minute I go to the doctor, they're going to find 10 things wrong with me.
But, if we on top of it, Then maybe it won't be 10 things. Maybe we can get it down to seven. Then maybe we can get it down to six. It's a, it's a slow process, but we got to change the mindset and to change the mindset.
(Music swells)
Nichole Hill: Visit our website Truthbetoldcommunity.com to find out ways to get involved, and share this episode with friends.
This series was written by Jackie Glass and Hannah Sobol, edited and hosted by me, Nichole Hill, Sound Design by Trendel Lightburn, and our work has been supported by the Virginia African American Cultural Center through a grant from Virginia Tourism Corporation. Follow our work by subscribing wherever you get your podcasts. We couldn’t do this without people brave enough to share their experiences, so thank you Mrs. Suzette Hairston.