You Can Always Go Home Again: Lessons Learned from the Life of Karla Haynes-Elmore
You Can Always Go Home Again:
Lessons Learned from the Life of Karla Haynes-Elmore
“Where is Shelby?” I asked my wife a few days before departing on my story visit to see Karla Haynes-Elmore. I knew it was not that far from my home in Charlotte. Based on the fact the Karla is the Executive Director of the Cleveland County Community Development Corporation I deduced that it was in Cleveland County.
“Where is Cleveland County?” I asked myself.
I had lived in New Jersey, Philadelphia, Chicago and now Charlotte and despite my travels I found myself to be very ignorant of the world that now surrounded me in North Carolina.
I got on the road, excited about the prospect of being out of the office. The clear weather and the hip-hop CD that my sister in-law gave me for Christmas made me even more excited about the hour and fifteen minute drive to Shelby, which I now knew by its location on the map I printed out. Straight out 74 I drove, pumping Nas’ Hip-Hop is Dead album. Listening to the music made me ponder the relative strengths and weakness of Urban African American culture.
As I got closer to my destination the pressure of the water I had been drinking created a fervent search for a place to stop. “Ahhh…Micky D’s!” No matter where you are you can count on there being a McDonalds. I hoped the bathroom was clean as the golden arches gave me a sense of place and familiarity.
Back in my car, my music was blasting and the clock was ticking closer to our agreed upon meeting time. I turned around to get back on track after missing the first of three turns that would lead me to the Cleveland County CDC. I passed small dwellings in a tree-lined neighborhood that visually reminded me of home. As a made the final two turns I arrived at a small commercial section of town. Older buildings, still relatively small lined the streets. I saw a tiny YMCA an ABC store and then a brick home.
“Wait…that is the office!” I thought.
The home reminded more of my Great Aunt Kate’s house from the outside, but a small metal plaque on the front of the structure defined it as the Cleveland County CDC. As I pulled into the gravel driveway and around to the back of the house, where I somehow knew there would be more parking, I saw a few wood picnic tables and an old basketball hoop in the back of the neighboring YMCA Girls Club.
The bits of grass peaking through the gravel driveway, the wood railings marking parking spots, and the wood porch on the back of the brick home gave me a deep sense of place, a sense of belonging. I immediately recalled all the many months spent in Chesterfield County, Virginia. This was my father’s home and my home for many childhood summers and one year of high school. But that was another story, for now I was anxious to meet Karla Haynes-Elmore Executive Director and soon to be MBA.
As I gathered my belongings and took to the wooden steps the third step creaked and shifted ever so slightly under my weight. I was not at all alarmed. Again I was hit with a sense of familiarity. “I know this porch.” A young, slender Black woman turned around from locking the back door and was startled by my presence. After her initial surprise, she confessed her brief scare and left off in her car. Again, her words did not strike me as those of a stranger but more as if she had said, “Didn’t expect to see you here cousin, you’ve been gone a long time.”
I rang the doorbell and another young Black woman answered. She seemed startled that I had come to the back door. The back door was for staff (i.e. family). Company came through the front door. I asked for Karla and she walked down the hall to announce my arrival as I came through her office and down the hall of the small house I felt like I was at Grandma’s house. The beautiful old light fixtures, leather sofas, rugs, the smell of hardwood floors all harkened to home. The home was immaculately decorated with a place for everything and everything in its place.
I entered Karla’s office and took a seat in one of the comfortable wooden chairs. I immediately thought to myself, “Work gets done here!” Everything was clean and efficiently organized, but still with a sense of home. Certificates, diplomas and letters of commendation adorned the walls and a computer screen fit seamlessly into the surroundings in a place where one might expect to see a crystal dish filled with hard candy.
Karla was on the phone, but the nameplate on the desk and her elegant, professional appearance made it clear that she was the Executive Director. The conversation began as she cordially concluded her phone call. She checked e-mails, moved documents, and discussed the work of the CDC at the same time. The phone continually rang and she occasionally took calls to discuss surveys, mortgages, inspectors’ walkthroughs, and heating systems.
Our brief conversation made clear that Karla Haynes-Elmore was in the business of providing more than housing for her community. Ms. Karla provided knowledge and hope to her community. She did so by sharing all that she had learned with all that she knew. She was so close to finishing her MBA and I got the amazing sense that as she graduated, the whole community graduated, for that knowledge would belong to them.
As we continued the lines between work and home, client and family began to dissipate. She had been in the job for twelve years and, prior to moving outside of town with her husband, clients/friends would simple stop by the house to discuss their needs.
We discussed her family. She had two daughters and a grandson. “A grandson?!” I knew she had a grandchild but based on her appearance and the pace at which she worked I had difficulty imaging her as some child’s grandmother. We talked about one of the women she admired the most, her mother. “The Black Jackie O”, Karla called her, a woman of incredible style and grace. We talked about the lessons we learned from our elders. You don’t go over someone’s house when it is storming. You don’t leave the door open when the heat is on. These were the old ways, the classic ways, the appropriate ways to live ones life. Karla had embraced the wisdom of the elders.
As her client entered they allowed me to sit in on their meeting and I watched as Karla passed this wisdom on to others in the community. They talked about mortgages and dept but they also talked about what the kids got for Christmas and where to find a good deal on the toys they wanted for next year.
As her meeting ended, the phone calls continued she called everyone by their first names. She mentioned Tommy, Janice, Thomas, Vic, Shirley, Tim, Donna, Francis, Jack and Justin. Again there was no need to separate friends and family from business partners they were all people and they were all valuable.
As she was on the phone I went to use the restroom, I looked into the living room and saw the rabbit ear antenna and the grainy picture on the color television playing The Price is Right. It took me back to my grandparents’ living room where I had sat with grandpa watching The Price is Right on a grainy color television with a rabbit ear antenna.
The bathroom made me realize that the things in the house were not perfect or expensive but needed and appropriate. In the meantime, the breakneck pace of work continued for Karla, answering a phone call while arranging a stack of messages. Going to get documents of the fax machine and answering the cell phone.
Our discussion continued and Karla talked about her Aunt Frances who had recently passed. She recalled a time when the doctors had detected that Karla had a thyroid condition. As they planned a course of treatment Aunt Frances prayed for Karla and received a vision that she would be healed. Upon her return to the doctor everything checked out normal and the doctors had no means of explaining it to her. Aunt Frances’ life had taught Karla that; “we are all here because someone else prayed for us.” The thought spoke to my soul and the fact that her Aunt had moved from New Jersey (my home state) back to her hometown in North Carolina brought me even closer to Aunt Frances, the families, “prayer warrior”.
I now began to see Karla Haynes-Elmore as a beautiful black woman, externally and internally. Made in the mold of Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Zora Neal Hurston and Maya Angelou, Ms. Karla is the perfect blend of mother, grandmother, wife, MBA, leader, counselor, educator and friend. She lives in and edifies a world based on building strong relationships with people whom are called: Friend, Nana, Grandpa, Granna, Gransom, Goody, Daughter, Son, Husband, Wife, Brother, Sister and Big Daddy.
My blackberry buzzed and reminded me that I had an afternoon meeting back in Charlotte. I was immediately dragged back into my cold, unfamiliar urban world. As I prepared to leave it became clear to me that Karla Haynes-Elmore is the Cleveland County Community Development Corporation. Karla Haynes-Elmore is Cleveland County. Karla-Haynes Elmore is Shelby.
She left me with a card, a gift basket and well-wishes on my drive back to Charlotte. As I rode towards Charlotte, I tuned my cars radio station to classic R&B. My body was comforted by the golden chocolate coins Karla had given me. My soul was comforted with memories of my family: Mama and Papa, Grandpa, Grandma, Granny Cousin Jean, Cousin Henry, Aunt Elaine, Aunt Kate, and going to Aunt Sara’s house to hear stories about our great Uncle Buddy who fought in the war.
I left with having learned many things from Karla Haynes-Elmore and her family, but perhaps the most inspiring message I received was from Aunt Frances. She told me that no matter where I am in life, you can always go home again.
Thank you, Karla.
Thank you, Aunt Frances.
Faith, Hope & Love
CA
Lessons Learned from the Life of Karla Haynes-Elmore
“Where is Shelby?” I asked my wife a few days before departing on my story visit to see Karla Haynes-Elmore. I knew it was not that far from my home in Charlotte. Based on the fact the Karla is the Executive Director of the Cleveland County Community Development Corporation I deduced that it was in Cleveland County.
“Where is Cleveland County?” I asked myself.
I had lived in New Jersey, Philadelphia, Chicago and now Charlotte and despite my travels I found myself to be very ignorant of the world that now surrounded me in North Carolina.
I got on the road, excited about the prospect of being out of the office. The clear weather and the hip-hop CD that my sister in-law gave me for Christmas made me even more excited about the hour and fifteen minute drive to Shelby, which I now knew by its location on the map I printed out. Straight out 74 I drove, pumping Nas’ Hip-Hop is Dead album. Listening to the music made me ponder the relative strengths and weakness of Urban African American culture.
As I got closer to my destination the pressure of the water I had been drinking created a fervent search for a place to stop. “Ahhh…Micky D’s!” No matter where you are you can count on there being a McDonalds. I hoped the bathroom was clean as the golden arches gave me a sense of place and familiarity.
Back in my car, my music was blasting and the clock was ticking closer to our agreed upon meeting time. I turned around to get back on track after missing the first of three turns that would lead me to the Cleveland County CDC. I passed small dwellings in a tree-lined neighborhood that visually reminded me of home. As a made the final two turns I arrived at a small commercial section of town. Older buildings, still relatively small lined the streets. I saw a tiny YMCA an ABC store and then a brick home.
“Wait…that is the office!” I thought.
The home reminded more of my Great Aunt Kate’s house from the outside, but a small metal plaque on the front of the structure defined it as the Cleveland County CDC. As I pulled into the gravel driveway and around to the back of the house, where I somehow knew there would be more parking, I saw a few wood picnic tables and an old basketball hoop in the back of the neighboring YMCA Girls Club.
The bits of grass peaking through the gravel driveway, the wood railings marking parking spots, and the wood porch on the back of the brick home gave me a deep sense of place, a sense of belonging. I immediately recalled all the many months spent in Chesterfield County, Virginia. This was my father’s home and my home for many childhood summers and one year of high school. But that was another story, for now I was anxious to meet Karla Haynes-Elmore Executive Director and soon to be MBA.
As I gathered my belongings and took to the wooden steps the third step creaked and shifted ever so slightly under my weight. I was not at all alarmed. Again I was hit with a sense of familiarity. “I know this porch.” A young, slender Black woman turned around from locking the back door and was startled by my presence. After her initial surprise, she confessed her brief scare and left off in her car. Again, her words did not strike me as those of a stranger but more as if she had said, “Didn’t expect to see you here cousin, you’ve been gone a long time.”
I rang the doorbell and another young Black woman answered. She seemed startled that I had come to the back door. The back door was for staff (i.e. family). Company came through the front door. I asked for Karla and she walked down the hall to announce my arrival as I came through her office and down the hall of the small house I felt like I was at Grandma’s house. The beautiful old light fixtures, leather sofas, rugs, the smell of hardwood floors all harkened to home. The home was immaculately decorated with a place for everything and everything in its place.
I entered Karla’s office and took a seat in one of the comfortable wooden chairs. I immediately thought to myself, “Work gets done here!” Everything was clean and efficiently organized, but still with a sense of home. Certificates, diplomas and letters of commendation adorned the walls and a computer screen fit seamlessly into the surroundings in a place where one might expect to see a crystal dish filled with hard candy.
Karla was on the phone, but the nameplate on the desk and her elegant, professional appearance made it clear that she was the Executive Director. The conversation began as she cordially concluded her phone call. She checked e-mails, moved documents, and discussed the work of the CDC at the same time. The phone continually rang and she occasionally took calls to discuss surveys, mortgages, inspectors’ walkthroughs, and heating systems.
Our brief conversation made clear that Karla Haynes-Elmore was in the business of providing more than housing for her community. Ms. Karla provided knowledge and hope to her community. She did so by sharing all that she had learned with all that she knew. She was so close to finishing her MBA and I got the amazing sense that as she graduated, the whole community graduated, for that knowledge would belong to them.
As we continued the lines between work and home, client and family began to dissipate. She had been in the job for twelve years and, prior to moving outside of town with her husband, clients/friends would simple stop by the house to discuss their needs.
We discussed her family. She had two daughters and a grandson. “A grandson?!” I knew she had a grandchild but based on her appearance and the pace at which she worked I had difficulty imaging her as some child’s grandmother. We talked about one of the women she admired the most, her mother. “The Black Jackie O”, Karla called her, a woman of incredible style and grace. We talked about the lessons we learned from our elders. You don’t go over someone’s house when it is storming. You don’t leave the door open when the heat is on. These were the old ways, the classic ways, the appropriate ways to live ones life. Karla had embraced the wisdom of the elders.
As her client entered they allowed me to sit in on their meeting and I watched as Karla passed this wisdom on to others in the community. They talked about mortgages and dept but they also talked about what the kids got for Christmas and where to find a good deal on the toys they wanted for next year.
As her meeting ended, the phone calls continued she called everyone by their first names. She mentioned Tommy, Janice, Thomas, Vic, Shirley, Tim, Donna, Francis, Jack and Justin. Again there was no need to separate friends and family from business partners they were all people and they were all valuable.
As she was on the phone I went to use the restroom, I looked into the living room and saw the rabbit ear antenna and the grainy picture on the color television playing The Price is Right. It took me back to my grandparents’ living room where I had sat with grandpa watching The Price is Right on a grainy color television with a rabbit ear antenna.
The bathroom made me realize that the things in the house were not perfect or expensive but needed and appropriate. In the meantime, the breakneck pace of work continued for Karla, answering a phone call while arranging a stack of messages. Going to get documents of the fax machine and answering the cell phone.
Our discussion continued and Karla talked about her Aunt Frances who had recently passed. She recalled a time when the doctors had detected that Karla had a thyroid condition. As they planned a course of treatment Aunt Frances prayed for Karla and received a vision that she would be healed. Upon her return to the doctor everything checked out normal and the doctors had no means of explaining it to her. Aunt Frances’ life had taught Karla that; “we are all here because someone else prayed for us.” The thought spoke to my soul and the fact that her Aunt had moved from New Jersey (my home state) back to her hometown in North Carolina brought me even closer to Aunt Frances, the families, “prayer warrior”.
I now began to see Karla Haynes-Elmore as a beautiful black woman, externally and internally. Made in the mold of Harriet Tubman, Sojourner Truth, Zora Neal Hurston and Maya Angelou, Ms. Karla is the perfect blend of mother, grandmother, wife, MBA, leader, counselor, educator and friend. She lives in and edifies a world based on building strong relationships with people whom are called: Friend, Nana, Grandpa, Granna, Gransom, Goody, Daughter, Son, Husband, Wife, Brother, Sister and Big Daddy.
My blackberry buzzed and reminded me that I had an afternoon meeting back in Charlotte. I was immediately dragged back into my cold, unfamiliar urban world. As I prepared to leave it became clear to me that Karla Haynes-Elmore is the Cleveland County Community Development Corporation. Karla Haynes-Elmore is Cleveland County. Karla-Haynes Elmore is Shelby.
She left me with a card, a gift basket and well-wishes on my drive back to Charlotte. As I rode towards Charlotte, I tuned my cars radio station to classic R&B. My body was comforted by the golden chocolate coins Karla had given me. My soul was comforted with memories of my family: Mama and Papa, Grandpa, Grandma, Granny Cousin Jean, Cousin Henry, Aunt Elaine, Aunt Kate, and going to Aunt Sara’s house to hear stories about our great Uncle Buddy who fought in the war.
I left with having learned many things from Karla Haynes-Elmore and her family, but perhaps the most inspiring message I received was from Aunt Frances. She told me that no matter where I am in life, you can always go home again.
Thank you, Karla.
Thank you, Aunt Frances.
Faith, Hope & Love
CA
Labels: biography, family, north carolina, shelby
posted by Dr. C.A. Friend @ 9:36 PM
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