Cornbread and Catfish

Cornbread and Catfish of the Central
Within a 12 mile radius in the center of urban Los Angeles was a place known as the Central. Perhaps Central was a short nickname for Central Los Angeles a region of modest incomes, religious and hard working people. They collectively occupied the land between Broadway Ave to the west, Florence Ave. to the South, Hooper Ave to the east, and Adams Ave. to the North. When Cornbread a nine year old black male asked where did the name Central come from, no one really knew. The typical answer was "It has always been the Central". The Central as it was called back in 1959 was a neighborhood comprised of second and third generation blacks whose parents had immigrated from such southern states like Alabama, Texas, Tennessee, and Oklahoma. The lure of better paying jobs and a promising good life away from the problems and the hate in the south brought scores of Blacks into the region. Within a decade they became the majority.
Not by any coincidence, at dinnertime the smell of good old fashion southern cooking rose above the modest homes and filled the air. Cornbread baking in the oven greens with ham hocks, black-eyed peas, and fried chicken permeated the entire neighborhood between 3 and 6 PM where Cornbread and his friend Catfish lived. This was a good sign because it marked the return of working parents and the gathering of the family at the dinner table.
The Central was also a safe and secure place for families-all families. The Blacks got alone with Whites who for the most part tolerated the Blacks and the few Hispanics in the Central got alone with everybody. There were a few occasional squabbles between the races and nothing really big enough to become a police matter. Each group had a gang and those gangs respected each other's turf. Fights rarely broke out. Unlike today, gangs settled disputes without spilling any blood. It was safe then to walk the streets at night.
The tire companies Goodyear and Firestone employed nearly all the adults from the Central. If you didn't work for the tire companies then you probably worked for Nabisco, Coca-Cola, or one of the bread companies like Langendorf. Others either drove a bus or worked in the nearby Alcoa Aluminum factory. Both tire plants and the surrounding industries were easy to get to by riding the Green line. So, more or less no one was a stranger if you happen to see somebody on a bus, you'd strike up a conversation all the way home. It was as if the Central was one large family. With so many people working it was a prosperous time for everyone, especially for Blacks. Most Blacks were too proud to get on welfare. There was no such thing as being on welfare if you were able to work. If the women couldn't work the factories most had jobs in rich White or Black homes. Even Cornbread's old Grandmother worked part time for a rich Jew in Sherman Oaks. She'd take 6 buses to get there, but she made her own money and saved it.
Summer time 1959 was unusually hot and the crazy heat sometimes brought out the worst in people. Cornbread and Catfish remembered hearing their neighbor's arguments and fights. There wasn't anything unusual about arguments they were yearly things. It's just that the heat made everyone uncomfortable. Once it was so hot during the July 4th weekend of 1959 the crazy heat drove everybody on the block out on his or her front porch under the shade of the roof trying to catch a breeze, but it was hopeless. The air refused to move and what little air there was moved around in hot packets during the exchange from one person to another on the porch. In fact it probably was ten degrees hotter on the porch than anywhere else was, but no one thought of it. On the porches the conversation always focused on the same old complaints, "Oh Lord! It has been a long hot spell of weather, the likes of which no one had seen for five years…. What you gonna do, Oh Lord? Then if the heat wasn't bad enough they talked about how bad the city needed to put down new asphalt on the streets." Cornbread and Catfish had heard it all and was at their limit of boredom. So what if South Central Los Angeles was hot and this sweltering heat slowed everybody and everything down, thought Cornbread and Catfish. They had other things besides the heat on their minds.
Cornbread got his nickname from his grandmother Helen part Black, Cherokee and Choctaw Indian. Helen had long black straight hair and a proud Indian face. She was very fond of Cornbread and so she gave him that nickname when he was only a year old because he loved her hot water cornbread. Cornbread loved the stories she told and would sometimes sit and listen to her stories of life on the reservation, and of how they eventually moved to their own land bought by her father after he saved money from working in the cotton fields back home. The old people as Cornbread and Catfish called them were common in each of the Black homes in the Central. All of Cornbread's friends had Grandparents living in the house. This generation difference solidified the old with the new and gave family life a good contrast.
Catfish was from Georgia and was called Catfish because no one knew what to call him and everybody had to have a nickname. By the way, he hated Catfish it was too ugly a fish to eat. But he got use to his nickname, besides he didn't want to be called Theodore his real Christian name. He hated that name more than eating Catfish. He and Cornbread grew to be good friends. Catfish was the first one in the neighborhood and when they both met in school they knew immediately that they liked each other. There was nothing that they didn't share together. They were the closet friends, the best of buddies.
After dinner that evening Cornbread went to go pick up Catfish for their usual round of fun. It was a cool night with a breeze and a welcome break for everyone after such a hot day. Catfish was waiting on his front porch when Cornbread arrived and together they went to old man Myers house to see their buddy Cain. Meyer's house was two blocks north just across the street from the 68th street avenue school where both Cornbread and Catfish attended during school season. So, they had to pass Old man Meyer's house to get to school. Now, Cain never barked nor chased any of the other kids that passed his master's house. He just had it in for Cornbread and Catfish. That was because they teased old Cain, all in fun of course. When they arrived at old man Meyer's house the house was dark. There were no lights on inside. It was unusual to see the house dark, but Cornbread unlatched the front gate and swung it opened anyway to get Cain's attention. Cain hearing the gate squeak would come running. He didn't run fast because of his age, but he was all heart and came running anyway to see who it was coming through the gate. On this night, they didn't hear the usual claw to the ground sound coming from Cain as he came running from the side of the house to the front. Catfish felt something terribly wrong.
"We should go knock on the door-do something. Something is wrong." Said Catfish.
"Hold on a minute. Suppose Cain is still sleeping. If we go in he'll get us for sure." Replied Cornbread.
With an air of uncertainly surrounding the both of them, they impulsively went through the gate. Quietly at first as to not wake up Cain if he should still be asleep. Cornbread took a look down the side of the house where Cain's doghouse should be. He saw no doghouse or Cain in the distance.
Meanwhile Cornbread was at the first step of the front porch. He was waiting and looking at Cornbread. Cornbread walked back to Catfish and looked perplexed.
"There is no dog house or Cain." Said Cornbread confused.
"No Cain and no house." Answered Catfish softly.
A sick and terrible feeling hit their gut. Cornbread walked up the steps and knocked on the door of the house. There was no answer, but as they turned to leave the door slowly opened up and a woman appeared from behind the door. She was a young woman they had never seen before.
"Can I help you?" She asked.
Both taken slightly by surprise Catfish had the presence of mind to respond in his usual abrupt manner.
"We were looking for Cain. You know old man Meyer's dog" Catfish suddenly realized that he said old man Meyer's instead of Mr. Meyers and was embarrassed.
"I mean Mr. Meyer's dog."
"I know what you meant. It's all right. I am Mr. Meyer's daughter Jessica and I have some bad news. My father passed away two days ago." She said sadly. "He died peacefully in his sleep. How well did you know my Father? "
"Wow, we didn't know." Said Cornbread. There was such disbelief on their faces.
"Cain, I guess died from loneliness the next day. My sister found the two of them. Cain was by my Father's side. She called me and I arrived in the city this morning."
"We're both sorry. Mr. Meyers and Cain was old friend of ours." Said Cornbread.
"You two must be the boys Cain liked to chase on your way to school each morning?"
"Sort of." Catfish said reluctantly.
"I have something for you. Wait here for a minute." Jessica disappeared and soon returned holding a small puppy.
"Here, I am sure that my sister will not mind. My father told so much about you two. He would want you boys to have him. You see, Cain wasn't as old as you boys thought. He sired his fourth litter before he went on."
The bottom fell out of Cornbread and Catfish's mouth as they spied the little brown puppy squirming in Jessica's arms.
"Why that old dog!" said Catfish and Cornbread as they both scratched their heads in amazement.