We would visit Arley James a few more times. We brought our baby boy, Ben, to see her. She was gracious and asked me if I ‘had that baby on my breast.’ It took me a few seconds to realize what she was saying. “Oh, yes mam,” I said. “That’s good. That’s good,” she said while patting my arm. “That’s why so many babies have allergies. They not on their mother’s breast.”
Ben was a toddler when Arley passed away. He was sick at the time. We knew that we needed to go and pay our respects. But one of us had to stay with the baby. So, we tossed a coin and I won. I attended Arley’s funeral. I had never been to a black funeral before. The family made me feel very welcomed. As the only white person in attendance, it was another one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences. I remember like it was yesterday. I sat in the back and waited for my turn to walk up to the casket and pay my respects. Arley’s gray braids cupped her face. I remember thinking she looked more ‘Indian’ that day. I cried.
The year after her death, I submitted Rick’s photo of Arley in the Red River Revel photography contest. He won second place. The Shreveport Times saw what many saw in the picture and wanted to publish ‘the story.’ They published the photo of Arley and her story on the front page. We received a phone call a few days later from some of Mrs. James’ family members. They were asking for a copy of the photo. It turned out that the photograph Rick took was the only photo of Arley James in existence.
Over the years, we’ve shared the story of Arley James with friends and family. And she now lives on in art. A wood carving of her was commissioned by a nationally known woodcarver from Mountain View Arkansas. And a soft sculpture artist and friend crafted the grand lady in fabric. And I painted her.
We loved Arley James. How could you not?
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| Arley James carved in walnut by Charles Widmer of Mountain View, Arkansas |
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| Arley James as soft sculpture created by Colleen Collins-Rabalais |
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