Sonny Learns a Lesson

Grandpa, when did openly discussing the high cost of bread ($3.25) and cigarettes ($1.25) become unacceptable?

"Isn't it terrible, Sonny?"

"It sure is. Especially since, in your day, it must've been so cheaper for you to buy what you could then in bulk and sell it wholesale now that the prices have risen so high for half the price and still make a profit? No?"

"But, Sonny, who has the wherewithal to think that far in advance or to have a warehouse that large?"

Sonny asked, “Was it you, grandfather? Did you have the wherewithal? If refrigerating that much for so long was workable to prevent spoilage and make the profits discussed, would you have done it?” 

"But again, Sonny, I'm not sure if anyone does or would have had such a wherewithal. Even if they did, why? Why would someone want to do that?"

Success demands proactive planning, anticipating challenges, decisive action, and relentless self-reliance.”

“Grandfather, I never knew you did all that. I simply saw you as my grandfather, a nice man who loved me unconditionally.”  

"Yes, that is correct. But, listen, Sonny. We've had enough of a chat about this love for too long now. Let’s talk about my money. Money and me? I made it all in-stock options.”

“Stock options are what exactly, grandpa?” 

“When companies started, they offered options to their CEOs and administrative teams. I was lucky enough to sit on three of the country's largest teams.

"You were. And were those consecutive runs? Then you don't say you were lucky. And who would they be? Grandpa?"

“Sonny Beatrice Foods ran everything in those days. And I was with them for the longest time. I saw no reason to get out. Everything was grand until I discovered their injustice to their workers abroad. Now that you know they had nothing to do with the tobacco companies, are you surprised?"

“Yes. "I was certain your wealth originated in the tobacco industry or related industries," Sonny said. 

"Most people are since I own a tobacco plantation in the deep south. But what those people don’t know is that I never employed one negro person or enslaved one to work my plantation," he smiled at his grandson. 

"Yes, Gramps, I understand," Sonny said.

"I just couldn’t make another group of human beings work for me under duress because of the colour of their skin or because other men called them derogatory names and said I should."

"So you earned their respect instead, and they willingly joined your team? Is that it?” Sonny was being facetious, but his grandfather’s answer surprised him. 

“Yes. That’s exactly what I did, Sonny. My mother taught me some valuable lessons in life. One was, ‘Regence, you catch more flies with honey than with shit. For a long time, I never knew what that meant. I finally understood its meaning when I found myself in that situation.’ 

“Is that how you got the work done on your plantation?' Sonny asked.

“I attended the slavery sales and auctions, and bought slaves in the eyes of everyone there. But it was for show only. Once I got them back to my farm. I explained how the cooperative worked to them and they opted to remain on the plantation with the rest of us.” 

“Did you purchase slaves as teams or couples? Whenever you could?” 

“Yes, and I never owned a whip. I never visited my black slave women at night for free sex, and I never made their living conditions worse than mine.”

“Why didn’t anyone who was white know about your plantation?” 

“We lived on the outskirts of town between two cities, and when the word got out, slaves who ran away and showed up to live at my plantation and work for me willingly."

"What? They did? Didn’t someone come looking to retrieve them?” 

“Nobody came to bother us since my wife’s brother was the Grand Wizard. Everyone left us alone.” 

“Nobody wrote about your story or the slaves. No slaves wrote about her because not one slave or even one of the white folk who lived in your area‌, could read or write properly, is that right?" Sonny said.

"Have you come across a book about me or my plantation yet? Sonny? Because I haven't, Gramps said."

"No, Gramps. I haven't seen one. I think I know why," Sonny said."

"Because I know none of the slaves if they could read or write and would tell their story other than orally to their people so as not to get their "Master" in trouble," Sonny said.

"That's part of it, yes. The other part of it is the story doesn't sell." Gramps said. "Come on, Sonny. Think about it for a minute." Gramps went on. "The rise in cigarette sales caused the success of the tobacco plantation, and nobody wants to hear about a millionaire mogul who owns a plantation at its peak with a bunch of black people who all work together in a cooperative." 

“This could be my legacy; therefore, I’m glad you told me the truth. I’m old enough to handle the truth and wear it well, grandfather." Gramps nodded at Sonny. "But grandfather, surely the African Americans living on the plantation expected to be paid or at least gain some profit in what the plantation pulled in?"

"You hit the nail on the head, Sonny." Gramps pointed an index finger at him. "The plantation operated as a business, and everyone there received payment, including the children."

"You ran the plantation as a business where everyone who lived there, whether they worked immediately on the farm," Sonny said. "How did you know to do that? How did you know the African Americans would remain there and work for you?"

"I didn't. But I offered them an alternative to being humiliated, beaten, wives raped, and their lives ruined." Gramps shook his head. "I watched and observed what other white men, drunk with power, some of whom were my closest friends ‌through business or what have you; now people I abhorred." Gramps looked down, almost as though he were recalling the events with sadness.

"You lost friends over your choices about these African Americans?" Sonny said.

"Oh, Sonny, no, no.

"I understand, Gramps. That must've been awful for you to see and learn about your friends, relatives, and colleagues." Sonny said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

"Yes, it was a time of disappointment for me and your grandmother," Gramps said. "Her brother, being the Grand Wizard of the area surrounding us, was a lucky break for us because we lived too far out for anyone to bother with us. We were the ‘Last Chance Plantation.’” Gramps smiled and almost laughed aloud, Sonny thought.

“After selling our tobacco, I would go to the city to collect the money; my brother-in-law ensured we always received the best price possible for our crop. Although he never told me. I knew I always got two or three cents more than other tobacco farmers. When I took all the money each time, it didn't raise one eyebrow. People knew better than to talk about me or my wife in town to anyone. They also knew how far I lived from the city and understood I had more visitors to my farm and needed to pay and purchase items that came and went from the house." He smiled. In his grandson’s mind, his grandfather was a Cheshire cat.

Sonny thought grandfather enjoyed telling his story more than Sonny enjoyed hearing it and learning about it, so there had to be something ironic coming his way. Grandfather wouldn't miss this opportunity to get Sonny a good one! A little tap on the nose always kept Sonny alert.

"Okay, gramps."

"Of course, they remained." Gramps looked at me strangely. "Why would they leave?" He shrugged. "There's no way they could get a job anywhere else that would pay as much and allow them to live so well. Many had a lot of money and could've bought a house anywhere but remained. Because nowhere in the country in the south were they accepted as citizens able to buy property, yet.” 

"But how did you end up with the plantation and their money? How?" Sonny asked. 

“My mother always told me to neither a borrower nor a lender be, but she told me I should hang on to whatever I could for my friends whenever they asked because friends you can never have too many of.” Gramps smiled and wiped a tear from his eye. 

‘And did that work out for you?” Sonny said.

"I held their money when they left for up north. One by one, they left the South for the North, specifically for Detroit, where Henry Ford wanted workers.” 

“Running the plantation must have become increasingly challenging.” Sonny said.

"Although I had been collaborating closely with them, a few men stayed because of loyalty and friendship. But one of my closest friends who left returned to work and asked for his portion back again. So, I gave it to him." Gramps said.

“When I bought another plantation and then another, the loyal men stepped forward to run those plantations, and we shared the workers and worked alongside them for the next farm year and the next.” Gramps said. 

“The men must’ve been grateful,” Sonny said. 

“I enrolled the plantations under my business name. And took care of those who weren't ready to sign on to the business yet," Gramps said. "That way, I had no issues."

"I bet. Good thinking," Sonny said. "What did you learn?"

"Sonny, I learned a most important lesson. Listening is key to success." He licked his index finger and checked it in the air. "I listened to my parents, particularly my mother, and that's why I was very successful in life. Do you know what she told me? Do you?" He waved his hand at me. "She told me, 'Regence, you oughta marry that Marshall girl; she's pretty, more brilliant than you, and in love with you. Three things you need in a wife for success in life.' And man, Sonny, was she right? I remember that like that was yesterday. And just look at me. I'm here to share that story with you."

Sonny exclaimed, "That's amazing, Gramps!" "Thank you for sharing that story with me today. I never would've known that about you otherwise."

"Yeah, well. You must not have listened to your mom 'cause you're hanging out with your grandpa on a Friday night." He laughed at the sad truth of the old man's statement.