cover of episode 25 Years of Stories: Joy and Juneteenth

25 Years of Stories: Joy and Juneteenth

2022/6/17
logo of podcast The Moth

The Moth

Chapters

Alvin Hall recounts his childhood on a farm, his fascination with Viewmaster slides, and the strict upbringing that inspired him to dream of leaving home.

Shownotes Transcript

Support comes from Zuckerman Spader. Through nearly five decades of taking on high-stakes legal matters, Zuckerman Spader is recognized nationally as a premier litigation and investigations firm. Their lawyers routinely represent individuals, organizations, and law firms in business disputes, government, and internal investigations, and at trial, when the lawyer you choose matters most. Online at Zuckerman.com.

The Moth Podcast is brought to you by Progressive, where drivers who save by switching save nearly $750 on average. Quote now at Progressive.com. Progressive Casualty Insurance Company and Affiliates. National average 12-month savings of $744 by new customers surveyed who saved with Progressive between June 2022 and May 2023. Potential savings will vary.

This autumn, fall for Moth Stories as we travel across the globe for our mainstages. We're excited to announce our fall lineup of storytelling shows from New York City to Iowa City, London, Nairobi, and so many more. The Moth will be performing in a city near you, featuring a curation of true stories. The Moth mainstage shows feature five tellers who share beautiful, unbelievable, hilarious, and often powerful true stories on a common theme. Each one told reveals something new about our shared connection.

To buy your tickets or find out more about our calendar, visit themoth.org slash mainstage. We hope to see you soon. Welcome to The Moth Podcast. I'm your host, Suzanne Rust.

All throughout 2022, for the 25th anniversary of the Moth, we've been taking a look back at every year we've been around. We're up to 2011. In 2011, we were expanding our slams and we were on a tour with the USA network called Characters Unite that included main stages and Moth workshops in high schools throughout the country.

Meghan Markle, future princess, was even a special guest at an event where she talked about the power of story to build bridges and to celebrate our commonality. These workshops focused on sparking dialogue for change in the world. For this special Juneteenth episode, I'm going to share a story about a person whose worldview was changed. It's one of my absolute favorite stories from the Moth's history. It's called Beyond My Viewmaster Dreams, and it was told by Alvin Hall.

Stay tuned after the story when we'll hear a little more from Alvin. Alvin Hall told this at a Moth main stage in New York City. Here he is live at the Moth. We only went to town once a month when I was a little boy. We had a farm. We grew, raised, or hunted everything that we had. When we went to town, my mother and grandmother would give us nickel or dime to buy whatever we wanted as a treat.

I so looked forward to that. While my brothers and sisters would go off and buy toys and candy, I would go to the back of the Five and Dime store to this one area where they had these little bitty discs with bits of film in them. I, a viewmaster, slide. I would go through the row and look for places like Rome, London, Paris, and a town called Constantinople.

I would then come back home in the truck, go into the backyard, pull out my Viewmaster slide, and point it at the sky. And I would sit there in reverie for hours. I would cross the Bosphorus. I would go up the Eiffel Tower. I would create these travelogues, a word I didn't know at that time, in my mind until my mother called me to do a chore in the house.

I was raised in a very waspy black family. We did not talk. My parents spoke in syllables. If they really liked what you did, they would go, "Mmm, mmm." If they thought what you did was adequate but expected, if they thought what you did was horrible, it was, "Hmm."

And the lower the register of that, hmm, the more judgment was imparted by that. When I was nine years old, my mother, I recall my mother making this statement all the time. She kept saying, I raised you to leave my house. When you get to be 18 years old, all of you, I raised you to leave my house. My brothers and sisters and I would look at each other and wonder. At age nine, I decided to tell her.

I'm gonna leave this place. My mother looked at me. She said, what did you say? I said, one of these days, I'm gonna leave this place. She went, hmm. Integration occurred in 1968, and I went from an all-black school named Shadeville, very Faulknerian, to the county schools.

And there I had probably my second fight of my entire high school career. This guy called me something and we got into a fight and I fought to win.

At the school, people became aware of me, and so they recommended me to a program, a Lyndon Baines Johnson program, called Project Upward Bound at Florida Agricultural and Mechanical University. What a destiny I had. Nonetheless, I got into the program, and there was a lady who ran the program,

The most glamorous black woman I had ever met, a lady named Miss Freddie Grooms. She had a medium-sized afro that was perfectly coiffed every day. She wore clothes that were in blocks of colors. I can see them to this day. And at this program, she really took an interest in me. In my classes, however, I was the eager kid. I was constantly putting up my hand. Every answer, I knew the answer to everything, and I was really, really...

And the teacher said to me, how do you know so much? And I said, I read the World Book Encyclopedia. When we had no money at night, my mother, who subscribed to the World Book Encyclopedia, would say to us, Don, my middle name, pick out the letter Q-boy and read something to us.

"Pick out the letter B, boy, and read something to us." Well, little did we know that I was learning all that stuff. So in class, I was really eager. This does not make me popular with the other people in the program. Eventually, I got into a little scuffle. I was put on parole. But Mrs. Grooms took interest in me and recommended me to her friend, Dr. Joel Fleischman, who had started a program at Yale University called Yale Summer High School.

applied to that program. The day I got that letter, I sat in the kitchen of the house and I knew with everything in me I was gonna go if it took everything to make it happen.

And I think my parents suspected that. So on the day I got ready to go, I wasn't afraid of anything, not a single thing, because in my mind, I'd already traveled to Paris and London and Constantinople. So going up to New Haven, Connecticut, cinch.

I got on that plane, got to New Haven, Connecticut, and for the first time in my life, I felt like I was home. There was John Wall, John Limley, Alba, Clyde, all the tutors and counselors made me feel so at home, I loved it. At the end of the summer, I had to come back home. I got off the plane, came home, and my grandmother walked up to me,

her hands on my face on both sides, looked into my eyes, and then held me close to her and said, "You are never coming home again. You are never coming home again." I then applied to college, went off to school in Maine, had a wonderful time, did well in school. Life was good. It was pretty good. I got a good job. I traveled a lot. I would write my parents postcards

I'd write these entire narratives and I would say to my parents, "Did you ever receive my postcards?" My parents would go, "Mm." Nothing more was said about the postcards. "Curious," I said to myself. Well, eventually I got a job in New York City, a job that I really loved on Wall Street, and things were going really well for me and I started to travel and I still wrote my parents' cards.

When I told my parents that I was moving to New York City, my grandmother said, you know that Richard Pryor man lived in New York. Wall Street was really good to me, and I found a place where I could work. I enjoyed the creativity of being in training on Wall Street. But in one of the recessions, I got laid off.

And I knew that the layoff was coming. And I got so mad about the layoff in anticipation of it that I decided I was going to fight. I was going to fight when they laid me off. So on the day they laid me off, I said basically to myself, you're going to have to pay me to get rid of me. You're going to have to pay me. And I fought that day, one of the hardest fights I've ever fought in my life, to get a great severance package.

When I walked out of that office, I had a severance package that was beyond my dreams. I walked out of the office, got into a taxi, and said, take me to Tiffany's. I took the taxi from downtown to Tiffany's. I told the taxi to wait. I had wanted these green Celadon bowls three and a half years.

I would go to Tiffany's and I would just lust after them. And today I was going to give them to myself as a present for that package I negotiated. I had them wrap them in the blue and white box, put them in a bag, and I came down in that side elevator at Tiffany's, got into the taxi and said, "Take me to the D'Agostino's." I went to the D'Agostino's, bought a half gallon of milk and a box of Cheerios and then said, "Take me home." I went home.

open the box, wash the bowls, pour the Cheerios and the milk in the bowls. And I thought, if I have to be unemployed, every day I eat from these bowls, I'll be happy. And I sat there and I ate my Cheerios blissfully. And as I was eating those Cheerios, I said to myself, it's time to go to Paris.

I had avoided going to Paris. I don't know why, but it was time to go to Paris. So I called and booked a ticket, called a friend of mine and said, I'm going to come to Paris. Can I stay with you? He said, sure. I got on that plane to Paris. It was so exciting. Got off at Charles de Gaulle, took the air, air, air in. And uncharacteristically, I missed my stop.

I travel a lot. I never miss a stop. I miss my stop. So I got off at the next stop, came out of the metro, walking down the street, and turned a corner, and it was like everything went out of me. I was in exactly the same spot where that picture was taken that I used to sit and look at through that View Master slide. I was in my own dream. I had made it real.

I sat there for a moment and then I burst into tears. And I just thought, "I can't believe I'm here. I can't believe I'm here." And for the next five days, I went all over Paris and I saw every place that was in those Viewmaster slides. I did not miss a single one. That first night in Paris, my friend who lived in the first arrondissement had a rooftop terrace. And so when I arrived late,

He said, "Oh, I have some champagne and caviar upstairs." So we went up to the rooftop. As the sun was setting over Paris, I watched as all of the lights came up on the monuments, one by one. And as I stood there, I heard my mother and my grandmother say, "This year is a significant birthday for me, and I've decided that it's time for me to see that city once called Constantinople."

That was Alvin Hall. Alvin Hall created and hosted the award-winning podcast series Driving the Green Book. His many radio programs include Guarding the Art, Alvin Hall Goes Back to School, and Jay-Z from Brooklyn to the Boardroom. In his landmark BBC television series, Your Money or Your Life, he offered people guidance about fixing their financial problems.

Alvin continues to produce training videos about the investment markets for financial services organizations, as well as write books including The Stock Market Explained, Your Money or Your Life, and Show Me the Money. His next book, inspired by his podcast series, will be published in early 2023. I love this story's themes of perseverance, pushing past obstacles, and knowing your worth.

And ever since it was shared, more than a decade ago, so many listeners have written to tell us that it's resonated deeply with them, too. Now I wanted to talk to Alvin himself. On the occasion of Juneteenth, a day that celebrates liberation, I wanted to know when he feels the most free. And here's what he had to say. I feel most free when, on a cool, crisp day, I take a walk beside a lake, a river, or by the ocean.

When I asked him, more specifically, what freedom means to him, here's what Alvin shared:

For me, freedom is a day when I don't have to think about the color of my skin and what it means to others. A day when I don't have to deal with the aggressions and microaggressions of other people. Freedom is when I can be in the moment without anyone else's judgment intruding on the life that I live and the things I do that make me happy. That's all for this week.

We hope you enjoyed our celebration of Juneteenth. From all of us here at The Moth, have a story-worthy week. Suzanne Rust is The Moth's senior curatorial producer and one of the hosts of The Moth Radio Hour. In addition to finding new voices and fresh stories for The Moth stage, Suzanne creates playlists and helps curate special storytelling events.

This episode of the Moth Podcast was produced by Sarah Austin-Ginesse, Sarah Jane Johnson, and me, Mark Sollinger. The rest of the Moth's leadership team includes Catherine Burns, Sarah Haberman, Jennifer Hickson, Meg Bowles, Kate Tellers, Jennifer Birmingham, Marina Cloutier, Suzanne Rust, Inga Glodowski, and Aldi Caza.

All Moth stories are true, as remembered by storytellers. For more about our podcast, information on pitching your own story, and everything else, go to our website, themoth.org. The Moth Podcast is presented by PRX, the public radio exchange, helping make public radio more public at prx.org.