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| Nana Hunter 2011 |
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| Papa Hunter 2011 |
The most important relationship in my family—my grandparents’ marriage—began many years ago. My grandmother is from Texas and my grandfather is from Virginia. Each separately moved to California before getting married. My grandmother’s dad and another man worked for a white family many years ago. The two had the same, exact job. One day, my great grandfather angrily asked why his coworker made more money than he did. His white boss reminded him that he was not in any position to ask such absurd questions. He proceeded to argue with the man because, in his mind, it was not fair for both of them to work the same, yet be paid differently. This made his boss’s anger grow. He told him he had better watch what he said in the future, and my great grandfather angrily stormed off. In the middle of the night, a reliable friend told my great grandfather that the white men were on their way to kill him. He gathered up his youngest daughter—my grandma—and sent her ahead to California to stay with a family member. The rest of the family fled as well, yet moved at a later date. My grandfather’s story is a lot different. He joined the service right after he graduated from high school and was dispatched to California. Since he was across the country, my grandfather had no support from his family. He met my grandmother at a dance one night, married her months later, and started a family. A realtor helped them buy a house with the little money they had so that they could raise their children. With my grandpa working as a trash collector and my grandma as a nurse, the two only had enough money to feed their five children. The lack of sufficient funds made it impossible for my grandparents to go back to their hometowns to visit family, so they began to value what they had in their own home.
