Growing Up In The Nation’s Capital: We Made It, But It Took An Entire Village
by Carrolyn Pichet

Overview
The stories I’m about to tell you are true to the best of my ability—actually they’re true to the best of my memory. I’ve purposely included events only as far as my short-term memory goes. Yes, I know I seem to be going around in circles, but I can assure you that some of my stories can be considered as pure fiction. That could mean that I filled in the blanks with a reasonable facsimile of the truth, or that I simply fabricated my tales to liven up my life’s adventures. Of course the part about growing up in the nation’s capital is true because I am indeed a Washingtonian.

I’m going to tell you about my childhood. The places are real, but some of the characters’ names have been changed to protect myself. I certainly know my Miranda rights, and I readily acknowledge that anything I say can, and most certainly will be used against me. But I’ll remind you that most of my tales took place when we were merely innocent kids, just doing what kids do. You’ll be served up the most unimaginable deeds that any rag-tag gang could conjure up for your pleasure. Enjoy!

Greetings my friends, welcome back

Greetings to my new readers, to my family and to my “old” friends
(no pun intended), I’m sending a hearty welcome back to all of you.

Introduction

I am a native Washingtonian, but I did not “live” where most people want to go when they “visit” the nation’s capital. I’m hoping that in “my story” I can take you far beyond the ordinary tourist junkets and historic exhibits and include a taste of the world-famous eateries that salt and pepper the Washington, D.C. area. Actually, deep down inside, I believe that I can give you more than that. I hope that the combination of where I grew up, my childhood haunts and the places where I “hung out” and visited as a young girl will provide a unique perspective of my hometown. I’ll offer you the same magnificence I savored with my friends and family during field trips and cultural excursions. These scenic treasures were an intimate part of my learning experiences when I was growing up and they are what I lived and loved as a child. This is the Washington and these are the unforgettable pictures that I want to share with you.

As a child I lived within my own little comfort zone surrounded by African Americans and all of my activities and interactions took place among them. My Washington was segregated along very specific lines and we blacks had our way of life, our associations, communities and our own systems of protection. We did not have to compete with the white population for anything. We established our own infrastructure that was comfortable, efficient and self-sustaining. We operated our own shopping areas and hubs of communication. Everything we needed (I didn’t say everything we wanted) in our daily lives was available. I must admit I was somewhat shielded from the darker aspects of social life and didn’t really experience the full brunt of segregation. At any rate, although segregation and racial discrimination existed in my childhood, they were not severe enough to destroy my lovely childhood memories.

My goal and the purpose of this book are to share my childhood with you, to let you feel the pulse of that environment and to let you experience the good and the bad of growing up in survival mode. I also want to show you that even the meekest and poorest people on earth can come through rough times and thorny patches and can actually bloom into a garden of beautiful flowers. The ultimate goal of the families and friends living in the 40’s and 50’s was essentially to survive and thanks to our loving village community, we did just that.

I can’t wait to tell you how it was to live in such a wonderful place in the 40’s. The city has indeed changed a lot since I hit the scene in 1941. There were some good things and some not so good, but because I came through it all relatively unscathed, I can still let you in on an unknown secret or two. You’ll read later on that I love secrets. I’ve always been proud of my ancestry. I love who I am. In fact, I really think that although I never saw any semblance of that silver spoon that some folks are born with, my inheritance has made me one of the richest souls on this earth. The best place to start my story is with the ancestors I knew and loved in my childhood. I am proud to introduce you to the people at the root of my life’s journey in the nation’s capital.