My fondest memories growing up on the “Ave” in Augusta, Ga, was the smell of pit-cooked barbecue from my Uncle’s restaurant, Perry’s Pig, around the corner. I would walk home from school to see the usual older ladies sitting on the porch, knowing I better open my mouth to speak with respect, lest I appear rude. My Grandmother was one of those fixtures who sat quietly on the front porch in her signature chair, waving her hands as people and cars passed by her home.
Perry’s Pig Barbecue Pit located in Augusta, Georgia was originally a filling station founded by my great grandfather Morris Perry. Later, my great Uncle Leroy “Pap” Perry took over passing down the delicious history of deep southern barbecue that no one could duplicate. My grandfather Lt. Thomas Perry following retiring from the Richmond County Sheriff Dept worked beside his brother smoking meats, bagging up fried pork skins, and shaking up their secret sauce. Would you believe they both married ladies named, ” Minnie”? As a fellow ” Mini” I am honored to carry an old school name. My grandfather and great Uncle were known to sit on the side of the pit in their plastic chairs, sipping their whiskey, and greeting customers and neighbors with conversation. Wow, what a legacy to remember!
Our old neighborhood has changed from decorative front porches with flower pots to boarded-up windows, as my grandparents’ generation has died out, leaving the neighborhood mostly abandoned. It hit me after my Grandma Minnie and Uncle Pap passed away recently, within months of each other, that I had witnessed the loss of a generation in my family for the first time in my life. I pray that, in some way, within my family’s generation, we can carry the torch. I reflect on the lessons my elders taught me with love, admiration, respect, and reverence.
My grandmother and great uncle, were the last remaining siblings of their families, turned 90 and we celebrated with a joint celebration. They have both since passed before Covid. I have fond memories of my childhood spent with my grandparents, who valued family, food, and storytelling. Their homes were always filled with love, food, and warmth, a simplicity I now yearn for in the digital age.
Throughout my life, I have been told that I possess an old soul, which may be attributed to being an 80’s baby with a mature name, Mini, in honor of my grandmother that was given to me. I must admit that my open-door policy, where visitors are welcome to drop by the house unannounced at any time of day is for a limited few. I may be cooking something on the stove, have something from the freezer, or opt to order takeout instead. I have never had a landline and, as luck would have it, I am currently unable to locate our old clock. Each generation, including my own, is distinct from the ones that precede and follow it. Nevertheless, I thoroughly enjoy sitting on the front porch, observing the surrounding activities, engaging in conversations with neighbors, fostering fellowship with close friends and family, and preparing traditional Southern meals I learned from watching my elders. Although family generations inevitably come and go, the legacy they leave behind – in the form of memories, core values, and traditions – is passed down to subsequent generations. My elders instilled in me the importance of family unity, emphasizing that each member bears the responsibility of being an active participant in connecting through effort, care, service to the community, and love.
Purpose Filled Mommy with Minimarie 