By Alicia Couch Payne
The city that I love is more than any one person. It is a sum of its parts. Recently, controversy has hit this city I love so and my emotions have been on a roller coaster ride. During this time, I have had snippets of my life in Buford replaying through my head nonstop. So many memories containing so many people have been swirling through my head.
My earliest memory is about getting so excited when the trash men for the city would come collect the trash at my nana’s house. The one I remember the most was the older black man, who’s name I don’t recall. He would always take the time to interact with me, ashy girl with big front teeth and unruly hair, as he jumped off the truck to grab the trash. I remember being so sad when he retired and no longer came by Nana’s house. His kindness made an impact.
I was a busy little girl who made my rounds to all of my nana’s neighbors. Most were elderly people and I loved them so much. Miss Gravitt, Mrs. Burrel, Mrs. Merritt, the Matthews, Mrs. Brogdon, and Mrs. Poole surely got tired of my nonstop questions and energy. I loved to go see Miss Gravitt’s bedridden mother and I remember being in the tub crying because I had just found out she passed away. Mrs. Burrel had a candy dish right by her front door and she always let me raid it. Each one was special to me.
I think I was in Kindergarten when I met the first girl who had the same name as me (different spelling though) and thought it was so cool. We would play on the playground together and she loved to braid my hair. I never had any talent at that so I was a little jealous of her skill. I have wondered about her over the years and hope she is well. Alisa Wansley was her name. She made a big impression on me.
It would take a novel to hold all of the people who make up this town I love, all of those that made a huge impression on a scrawny little girl.
People may say that this town is not like that anymore. I beg to differ. Since moving back to Buford a few years ago, I have rekindled friendships with some amazing and kind people. I have met people since then and formed friendships with many. I visit local stores and restaurants and I still see the soul that is Buford in their eyes. They are genuine in their smiles and actions. I live on the same street I grew up on. My neighbors may have changed but their hearts are still Buford, kind and warm.
I’ve had a lifetime of experiences with the residents of Buford. Thinking back, the kindest people, the ones who left the largest impression on me were of all races and walks of life. I never defined people as a white Buford resident or a black Buford resident. Everyone was the same, Bufordites.
It is heartbreaking to watch a city that I love be divided due to the words and actions of a very tiny portion of the town. Instead of praying for change, healing, and love to take place in our town, too many are busy fostering hate. One cannot have love by using hate.
This city I love is hurting. I’m hurting. I hurt for our kids especially because they are innocent. It’s the actions of adults that have caused this and as adults, we need to teach our children what Buford really is.
It’s a town that is loving and warm. It’s a town that bands together when bad things happen. It’s a town that prays when it needs healing. Let us be “Buford Strong” love one another, pray for one another and stand together for each other.
We are Buford.
