The Introduction of Body and Soul

It was soooo tempting to name this book something else because the title has been used before in music and literature  But Coleman Hawkins' 1939 jazz classic is so prevalent in the story, I thought, WHY NOT?  I wrote  this while stuck at at home for the last 3.5 years since my 30-year-old handicapped van died on me, and I live in rural USA, seven miles from the closest public transportation. Also, my electric wheelchair wouldn't make it that far.  So, I escaped into this world of tragedy and good fortune mixed together, and now I invite you to join me on this journey from Louisiana to California. 

AND NOW, THE INTRODUCTION OF BODY AND SOUL

Adam Daniels was born bi-racial April 9, 1940 in Baton Rouge, Louisiana. His mother, Renée birthed him in her parents' home where she was born and raised on what is now Orange Street.  For Beverly Daniels, having an unwed daughter with a child of questionable heritage, was not the brightest of circumstances at that time.

"What's the matter with you?" her husband, Peter, asked after noticing her rare disappointed expression.

She led him to their living room so that Renée couldn't hear. "How are we going to explain that baby?  She doesn't have a husband, and it looks like he doesn't have a colored bone in his body."

Peter smiled and went to the phonograph.  "You wait right there."  He turned on the machine, and it hummed throughout the room as the tubes warmed up.  Then he put on his favorite record, Body and Soul by Coleman Hawkins.  He held out his hand, but she refused to go.

"Peter, I don't feel like dancing right now."

"Woman, get over here," he demanded, and she reluctantly slid into his arms, allowing him to smoothly dance her around the living room rug.  "Beverly, after what we've been through, I am grateful that we have a grown daughter and now a grandchild.  As far as I'm concerned, this is special."

He's right, she thought, and held him tighter.  With their tragic past, she realized that Adam was truly a blessing in disguise.  "Play it again," she said when the record ended, not wanting the moment to end.

Thanks for your time

David doc Robertson

book available at www.daviddoc.com/books