Ray Charles Young Musician

O? Chapter One: Musical Keys Ray Charles Robinson was born in Georgia, just north of the Florida border, on September 23, 1930. His mama was only about sixteen years old at the time. Ray's father, Bailey, a tall, strapping man, worked on the local railroad. But he was hardly ever around, and Ray almost never saw him. He only visited once in a while. Mama soon brought Ray to Greenville, Florida, looking for work. Ray's mama did all kinds of work, like snapping beans and shelling peas. Mostly she did laundry, washing and ironing it for the town's white people. A year later, Ray's little brother, George, was born. The town's real name was Greenville, but most people who lived there, including little Ray and his mama, 'Retha, called it Greensville, with an s. Perched right on the border of Florida and Georgia, it was a deep southern country town, which meant hot, sticky summers; great southern food, like barbecued ribs and grits; and an understanding, in the early 1930s, that white folks lived in one part of town and black folks lived in another. That was just the way things were. Little Ray thought his world was just fine. He had his little brother, George, for company, his mama and stepmother, Mary Jane, to raise him and love him, and his friend Mr. Pit to teach him about music. Mama was very strict about both chores and manners. At the top of her list were two iron-clad rules: You do not beg and you do not steal. Ray and George knew she meant them. One day Ray finished his chores quickly. Until he and George were through picking up chips for the fire, clearing up after lunch, and making the bed, they were not allowed to go anywhere. And Ray wanted to go someplace special today: He was going to visit Mr. Pit. Ray wiped the last of the dishes from lunch. He looked over the last plate carefully to be sure it was dry, and set it atop a stack near the sink. He hung the towel carefully over the counter to dry. Now he could go. Outside in the yard, George, who was a year younger than Ray, looked up hopefully as Ray came through the door. He wanted to play with Ray; he had a tiny frog in his hand. He opened his hand to show it, but Ray shook his head. "Not today, George. I got somewhere to go." George was a good playmate, and Ray usually liked to play with him, but when he visited Mr. Pit, he went alone. Ray ran to the Red Wing CafE, just a few buildings down the road. As usual he was barefoot. He and George never wore shoes. Black people in Greenville mostly didn't own shoes, and they didn't mind, either. The weather was usually warm, and their feet were used to the dirt roads. In the hot summers, they walked on the cool grass, not the blazing hot roads. Ray didn't even think about his feet today, squishing along happily in the mud from last night's rain. He just hoped Mr. Pit would be waiting for him. The Red Wing Cafe was the center of life in Greenville for black folks. It was a general store, which sold food and all kinds of necessities. They also rented out a few rooms in the back if you needed a place to sleep. At night lots of people went there to dance and talk. But in the hot, sleepy summer afternoons, when just a few people came in to buy beer and ice cream, it was quiet. That was when Ray visited his best friend. Mr. Pit's real name was Mr. Wylie Pitman, and he owned the Red Wing Cafe. Ray, though, always called him Mr. Pit. There were two things a the cafe that just fascinated Ray: a jukebox and a battered, old upright piano. The jukebox was a machine that had records stored in it. On the outside were labeled buttons, each listing a song. When you dropped in a nickel and pushed the right button, the song you wanted to hear would play. Ray just loved that jukebox. It was stuffed full of good country-western songs, some boogie-woogie, some big band, and some jazz. Ray didn't careSloate, Susan is the author of 'Ray Charles Young Musician', published 2007 under ISBN 9781416914372 and ISBN 1416914374.