64 AMERICANWAY
JANUARY 15 2008
M A Y A A N G E L O U
she says, is “the only nonoptional day, be-
causewehavedinner.”OnFriday, guestsget
to explore the city and attend a barbecue
hostedbyanotherofAngelou’sclose friends.
AndonSaturday,Angelouand someauthor
friends go to nearby bookstores to do sign-
ings. The celebration’s grand finale comes
that evening, during what Angelou calls
the “family presentation” — a talent show
of sorts.
“People who can sing, do,” she says.
“Thosewho can’t singdo too. Peopledance.
People tell stories to entertain eachother.
“I’ve never allowed a television camera
in,” sheadds. “Somepeoplearevery famous,
and somearenot.”
Though Angelou says she rarely does
more than tell a joke at the presentations
— “I have somany years on everyone,” she
reasons — she merrily regales me with
story after story of her guests’ perfor-
mances over the years. She tells of one year
when her relative, photographer Margaret
Courtney-Clarke, brought accomplished
Italian musician Alessandro Alessandroni
to the festivities. “He told thegroup, ‘Ididn’t
bringmyguitar,butIcanwhistle,’”Angelou
recalls. “It turned out that he’s a composer
and performer of whistling music in the
SpaghettiWesterns, like
For a FewDollars
More
. It was just fantastic.” Another year,
two friends— one black, onewhite—who
both came fromVaudevillian backgrounds
performeda routine together.
“Our people are all sorts: We are black
and white, Asian and Spanish-speaking,
young and old,” she says. “We are able to
look past complexion and see community.
… The truth is, we aremore alike thanwe
are unalike as human beings. We really
prettymuchallwant the same things.”
She reaches for her glass of apple juice
again, the lines onher hands deepwith ex-
perience, and she grows reflective. As she’s
lookedback onher past this afternoon, she
can’t help but also think of the future, and
to Thanksgivings when her grandchildren
and their children will be enjoying their
own traditions.
“Imay be remembered as this tall,mean
black lady,but Ihopenot,” shesays, smiling.
“Ihope I’llbe rememberedaskindandgen-
erous and funnyand lovingandbrave.”
Andgrateful. Always grateful.
DAWNREIss
is aChicago-based freelancewriter.
San Diego (Downtown)
La Jolla/UTC
Phoenix, AZ
619.237.9700
858.450.6666
602.955.3666
