Tina Eady

eadyBorn in the Bronx, Tina is one of seven children who used books as an escape. “Reading, you can go into to another space and time,” she says, “and books were a comfort to me. Books are like old friends who come to visit; when they leave, you always remember them fondly."  She went to SUC- Fredonia when she graduated high school.  "I picked the school farthest away from home and went there."  Some years later she realized she loved the challenge of writing, and decided to try her hand at it. She took a few Journalism courses, and currently attends West Los Angeles College to develop her writing ability.


Lady and Gentleman

(300 words without title)

When she was about three her mother died.  She was raised in a small Texas town by her older brothers and sisters.  Her Godfather owned a cleaners in San Diego and told her she would be welcome there. She left Tyler, Texas as soon as she could. She journeyed to New Mexico, cared for two little children for a couple. In Arizona she made beds in a motel.  She eventually made it to San Diego and her godfather’s cleaners.  She met, fell in love with, and married her first husband.

They moved Los Angeles and opened a cleaners.  The cleaners became moderately successful. They bought a house and new car. They hired a lady to help in the cleaners. One day the lady’s husband knocked at the door and asked if she knew that his wife was pregnant and not by him.  She hadn't known that. She left her beautiful house, the new Cadillac and her cheating husband.

She rented a small apartment and fixed it to look like a doll house. The next guy was a well-known musician who adored her. She was like an ornament on his arm.  She dressed in expensive furs and jewelry.  He asked her to marry him but she didn't.

Years have gone by, her olive skin just a little dim, her bad knee causing her to use a walker.  He phones, “Precious, I still love you.”

He wheels her proudly to the Grammy Awards. Even though she doesn’t want to go, he wants her there.  When she saw Whitney Houston, she cried.  Whitney took the handkerchief from his jacket and wiped the tears from her eyes and said, “Don’t cry, I’ll be all right.”  A few days ago I saw her and asked, “How you doing?”  To which she said, "Getting old is not for sissies."


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