Hey Nephew!? by Hamilton Jones

Hey Nephew!?

By Hamilton Jones

The ConTextos Authors Circle was developed in collaboration with young people at-risk of, victims of, or perpetrators of violence in El Salvador. In 2017 this innovative program expanded into Chicago to create tangible, high quality opportunities that nourish the minds, expand the voices and share the personal truths of individuals who have long been underserved and underestimated. Through the process of drafting, revising and publishing memoirs, participants develop self-reflection, critical thinking, camaraderie and positive self-projection to author new life narratives.

Since January 2017 ConTextos has partnered with Cook County Sheriff's Office to implement Authors Circle in Cook County Department of Corrections as part of a vision for reform that recognizes the value of mental health, rehabilitation and reflection. These powerful memoirs complicate the narratives of violence and peace building, and help author a hopeful future for human beings behind walls, their families and our collective communities.

While each author’s text is solely the work of the Author, the image used to create this book’s illustrations have been sourced by various print publications. Authors curate these images and then, using only their hands, manipulate the images through tearing, folding, layering and careful positioning. By applying these collage techniques, Authors transform their written memoirs into illustrated books.

This project is being supported, in whole or in part, by federal award number ALN 21.027 awarded to Cook County by the U.S. Department of the Treasury.

Hey Nephew!?

Hamilton Jones

Body

"Hey Nephew!?" is what Unca (uncle) Thomas would say, when he called out to the group of us. It never mattered who he was calling whether by proper name or relationship title, we always knew who he was requesting. I responded, “yes Unca Thomas,” knowing that I was the one he was calling. He then said "hand me a 9/16, wrench or socket." I questioned in return. I looked down at the scramble of tools laid out on the upside down lid of a 55 gallon drum turn tool tray.

I shuffled through the oily mess of metal, plastic, and rubber with a flat head screwdriver as I had seen my uncle do many times before. I grabbed both wrenches and sockets and hurried over to my uncle, eager to show him that I picked up the right stuff. He took a good look at the assortment of tools that I had picked out and assembled some sort of contraption and began to remove what I learned later to be a starter. When he was done,Unc got up from the pile of blankets he was laying on and said "Hey Nephew, I asked for a 9/16 not a 14mm.” “I ain't no dummy, Unca Thomas, if a 9/16 and 14mm ain't the same size, they're too close to make a difference.” With a wad of chewing tobacco in his lower jaw, Unc spit out the juice and said, "that's a night Nephew, you ain't no damn dummy, that's why I asked you to get me the right stuff?”

Unca Thomas had a way of doing and saying things that could only be considered, "his way of doing things." If you were not an open minded person, you could easily be offended. Unca taught me how to read between the lines or catch the drift without thinking to deep into the words being said. I learned to focus on the content and not who it was coming from.

Unca Thomas taught me a whole lot about life. I once asked him who this man was that would kind of just show up when he was out in back of the apartment building he lived in and kind of help Unc out. Unc said in a sarcastic tone, “Nephew, you gotta keep a gump around for heavy lifting.” As a child I knew what my uncle was saying and as adults, I'm sure lots of people won't. What Unc was telling me was that you don't surround yourself with people who aren't of value and substance. Uncle Thomas would pray and enjoy meals, time, and conservations with anyone who stopped by to help out, especially while he was working on somebody's car.

The pay, time, meals, and conversations were all edifying to and for any party involved. My Unca Thomas was a father, a son, a brother, a reverend, a cousin, a nephew and more than anything to me he was my "Uncle." He kept an open Bible and could and would pray to the Good Lord in a manner that would make the original 12 add 1. Unc would pray and worship, and if that didn't seem to work, he would pray and worship some more. I once questioned him about why he prayed and I never seen anything happen right away, Unc said to me, “Nephew. He (the Good Lord) may not be there when you want him but He's always on time.”

Unca Thomas left us in physical form in March of 2024. Unfortunately I wasn't there for his going home celebration, due to the fact of my incarceration. When I learned of his passing, I began making phone calls to my cousins, aunts, and remaining uncle and most importantly I put into practice the most important lesson my uncle instilled in me, "Prayer."

Fortunately, I have one uncle left from my mother's side of my family. When I say "Hey Uncle Josh," he always responds, "Hey Nephew," in a voice that is different to describe but easy to imitate by us. Ever since I could remember Uncle Josh drove a Cadillac, except for one time he had an Oldsmobile Toronado, which was a very similar car to a Cadillac Eldorado. Uncle Josh was/is as cool as a fan, the type of guy who you'll never see flip his top, from what I've heard, if he did get upset somebody best come up with a viable solution. Uncle Josh went through some troubling times, but through his determination, perseverance, and love for his family, he made it through and bounced back as strong as ever. He's a gentleman who has the proper attire for any occasion. From tuxedos to tennis shoes, Unc got the right fit on.

During a conservation with Uncle Josh, I asked him about career choices. Unc had picked up his big brother's skill set as a mechanic, but told me he didn't like getting dirty. I remember him working at an aluminum casting company. With my Unca Thomas (his older brother)and my other uncle(Uncle Johnnie Page). I don't remember why he told me that aluminum casting wasn't it but as things turned out, that wasn't for him either. My dad put Uncle Josh in tune with construction and uncle said to me that construction wasn't for him either. Then came trucking. From what I understand, trucking and sobriety are two of the greatest choices my uncle ever made. Trucking provided a means to travel the country and earn a living while sober, and I'm sure trucking allowed him to see his way more clearly.

I express these choices because knowing what uncle has accomplished through these choices has led me to follow suit. Unca Thomas inspired me to be curious about our choices which helped later because of my career, and Uncle Josh has inspired me to work on getting my CDL in order to open my own trucking company and most of all to stay sober.

During a recent conversation I expressed an urge to smoke a cigarette and he immediately helped me to correct my backward thinking. Growing up, if Unca Thomas was around, Uncle Josh was not far away.

My mother’s 3rd brother that I had the pleasure of sharing a few precious moments in life with was Unca (Uncle Hildry Lee), Henry Lee. He was born and raised in Mississippi and a long time railroad laborer. He also had an affinity for orange pop and ice cream.

As a child Unca Henry Lee came up from Mississippi to stay with his mother who was my grandmother, to get healthy after some mystery illness. Which for those of us who know alcoholism is cunning, baffling and powerful. My Unca Henry Lee was a thin, lean, and wirey man who could sling a pickaxe or sledgehammer like John Henry. I would say, as a greeting, "Hey Uncle Henry Lee,” he would say, "Hey Nephew." I wish I could write more about Unc but he lived in Mississippi and I grew up in Chicago and don't remember/know too much about him, except for he loved his whole family and that in my adult madness of being in and out of jail. I didn't get to talk to him before he passed.

These three gentlemen are/were all my mother's brothers. The uncle I get compared to most by my mother was named Sunny. Uncle Sunny passed away long before I was born, but obviously Uncle Sunny had to be the coolest, otherwise he and I wouldn't be so similar (that was intended as a joke).

My father, who I knew as dad, was known to my cousins as Unca Hamp. My cousin Pookie would say "Hey Unca Hamp," and my dad would return his greeting with a solid firm, and affectionate. "Hey Fat Ass." When my dad would call out to my cousin Tommy, my dad would say, “Hey Asshole," Tommy would respectfully respond, "What up Unc?" To my cousins, Unca Hamp was their uncle and the lack of blood relation has no bearing on the fact that Uncle Hamp was their uncle.

When I see my Uncle Johnnie (formerly known as Johnnie Cool), he says, "Hey Nephew," and I respond “Hey Uncle Johnnie.” Uncle Johnnie can fix everything, including the tool you need to fix what you are working on. I've seen him convert a Ford van from a manual transmission to an automatic transmission, then back again. My cousin Pookie (Johnnie Jr) had a G-body that would backfire and shoot a flame out of the tailpipe when you would lift off the accelerator.

We thought it was cool, but it was actually dangerous. When Uncle Johnnie saw it, he told us the timing was off and left it at that. My cousin and I had seen Unca Thomas and Uncle Johnnie “Shoot timing" on a GM V-8 countless times, so we figured let's grab the timing gun and rotate that distributor cap we got nowhere.

After spending the day making needless adjustments, Johnnie Jr figured out that his dad was referring to the timing chain being replaced. From that moment we both confirmed that there can be a couple different ways to take something said. When you give Uncle Johnnie good news, his response is almost always, thats wonderful. I once had a car accident as a young man in control of too much car. I ended up with 29 stitches around my right eye which left a permanent facial scar.

Of course my mom ran down to the hospital, along with my Aunt Susy (her big sister), to see about me, but the most consolation came from my Uncle Johnnie in the form of a wordless hug. The accident was terrible and I probably shouldn't be alive today as I think about the damage. My eye looked like Tyson Fury and Mike Tyson combined into one man, for one moment, in order to hit me in one eye. That hug from Uncle Johnnie said, “Nephew I love you, be careful, I'm glad to see you, you'll get another car, there's only one, that eye ain't so bad, and most of all, I UNDERSTAND.” See Uncle Johnnie understood what metal, fire, and rubber does to some of us. Unfortunately if you don't know you probably never will.

My Uncle John Bell/Uncle John was my Aunt Sallie's husband. I would say, "Hey Uncle John,” he would reply, "Hey Nephew?” Uncle John was a construction worker who wore Lagerfield cologne and drank Stroh's beer.

Uncle John took my cousin Damien and me on our first fishing trip. We went to a bait and tackle store that was on Cicero Ave just South of Madison on the Westside of Chicago, who'd have known? Bait and tackle in the middle of the hood. At that place you could also apply for a fishing license which you do need in order to fish legally.

Aunt Sally packed us some food and beverages and we hopped in the Buick and headed to a spot on the DesPlaines River. Uncle John taught Dee and me how to bait the hook and cast the line. I never caught a fish but I did get some quality bonding time with one of my uncles and my cousin. From that experience Damien and I both learned that no matter how small some tasks are that you don't cut corners. Do it right, follow proper procedure, and you'll reduce risk. You might think something as simple as fishing would be just drop a line in the water and pull out fish, however, if you get caught doing it with no license you could find yourself in a fishy situation.

Now I'm an uncle to five of the best nephews ever. I have Kylen (#1), Chase (#2), DeShawn (#3),Dantae (#4),and Dominic (Fin). Kylen and Chase are my oldest sister's two boys. Both their mom and dad are retired soldiers. Both of my nephews are tough in their own unique ways. DeShawn and Dantee are my younger sister Rosa's sons. They are twins, they both play football (soccer). I call it football because they live in Texas. Other than that they're alright.

Then there's my younger brother Tyrell who blessed us with Dominic (Fin). At this time, Fin is about two years old and if you know like I know, you better not bother his shoes.

Since I'm an uncle now, I get to say those magical words, "Hey nephew" and when I say it to my nephew Kylen, he responds, "What up, Unc?" I then say, "What's going on nephew?” and he'll say, "Nuttin much, Unc." For as long as I can remember Kylen has been a character. When he was a little guy he was living with his grandmother (my mother).

While he was in the family room playing one of those Madden video games. I decided to come in and take a nap downstairs, while resting I heard my nephew referring to the nickname for Richard, you know, the one that rhymes with stick. So to keep it as PG-13 as possible, let's just say I heard him repeating the word stick, over and over.

When I inquired about his use of the word stick, Kylen responded, “Well Uncle Millton, I played Madden football, I've made a player named K.C.Stick. He is a running back.

When he shifts arms someone, he says sticks it in your face.”

When he makes a touchdown he says, "stick in the hole." Needless to say, Kylen had figured out a safe way to say a bad word. Needless to say, I did what any cool uncle would do, I nodded my head in approval and continued to take my nap. I'm often told by my mother that Kylen reminds her of me. I personally agree that he does as he is firm in what he knows, negotiable in what he believes in and he will seek out and research anything that interests him, which like me is a bit of everything.

Kylen marches to his own beat and is always good for a laugh, either at his own expense or the person who made the mistake of goofing off in his presence. While he was working as a food delivery driver, I asked him what he was doing these days. He told me that he was a chauffeur. From that I got that it's all about perspective. My #1 always seems to be able to look at the bright side. Kylen has always forgiven me for my screw-ups and honestly has had more faith in me at certain times than I had in myself. I would dare you to talk bad about me in front of Kylen, but I care about your feelings.

Kylen is talented as a singer, an artist, a listener, a problem solver, a son, grandson, brother, cousin, friend, and as you can guess, a nephew. And I love him to the moon and back.

My nephew #2 is Chase. He's #2 because he was born second and because he's the shit.

Chase is so quiet that you'll forget he's around, but he's also very intelligent, so when he does decide to speak all within ear shot you need listen. Chase is simply blessed with so many innate gifts he practices, integrity, is honest, trustworthy, both respectful and respectable, polite, considerate, thoughtful and wise. Unbelievable, right? There's more, he's a great student, has no criminal record, doesn't use foul language, and is just simply a pleasure to be around.

When I say "Hey Nephew," to Chase, I guess the response depends on his life season. I can remember him saying, "Yes, Uncle Milton.” Now it's kind of like, "Yes, Milton.” Still there is no lack of respect whenever I say, “I love you, Chase,” he responds just like he did when he first learned to talk. He says, “I love you too.” Those words give me the strength to take on the world. Nephew #2 has definitely got my 6.

I was talking to Chase on the phone and he was making grits. Notice I said "making grits." Well I asked him what he was doing. Of course he told me he was making grits. He went on to say that the grits had too much water in them. Well me being Mr. “Let’s Have a Teachable Moment,” I began to give instructions on cooking the grits with too much water. I asked him if the stove was electric. He looked over at the stove, I'm sure, then told me yes. I went on to say, turn the stove down to its lowest setting. Chase said ok. I then went on to explain that the process is going to take longer now, but our aim is to evaporate the water and let the grits simmer. So Chase again says ok. After I give #2 all these instructions on getting the grits just right, we say our good-byes.

I then called my mother and shared with her the details of Chase and my conversation. My mother immediately burst into laughter and I wanted to know what was so funny. She then informed me that Chase only had instant microwavable grits.

Next time I talked to Chase, I said, "Hey Nephew." He could barely contain his laughter as he responded, "Yes, Milton?" I said the stove was electric and he said yes. I said, “The grits came out good, huh? Did you enjoy them?” He says yes. Needless to say, Chase has an elaborate sense of humor. DeShawn and Dantae are affectionately three and four.

These two guys are twins and look alike but are very different.

When I say "Hey Nephew," to either of them, they both respond, "Hey Uncle Milton." These two are what I call my research team. If I need to know about it on the internet, I ask them to look it up. Talk about a test in patience. I constantly remind them to not get ahead of themselves, but in the eagerness to get it right, they both try thinking ahead of me. I appreciate that they look ahead and plan forward. Now my goal is to help cultivate that curiosity in 3 and 4.

As for Dominic (Fin) we are going to create our history by going shoe shopping and doing whatever else he wants to do.

As luck and life are turning out, I have become Uncle Milton to another small group of young men. These men are sons, brothers, fathers, uncles, and nephews. I can’t tell you what lessons in life I’ve given them, but I will tell you that I’ve been edified in a long list of positive ways.

Sometimes we annoy the hell out of one another, but at the root of the annoyance is love.

We came together as strangers who may have or may not have ever crossed paths under different circumstances. It may or may not be said, but we are all out to do two things.

We want to be better and do better.

Hamilton Jones I Am From I am from Keeler and Cranshaw, the first place I ever lived I'm from abandoned buildings and a vacant lots Where my father planted seeds and produce nutritional vegetation That the Earth was designed to give I am from a two-bedroom apartment where my big sister and me share a room I was a latchkey kid I knew that if I was doing something bad, I had to cut it short because my mom will be home soon I'm from this funny looking tree that I climbed in my backyard I didn't climb too high because the fall wouldn't be too bad but that sudden stop will be hard I'm from that same tree with funny looking leaves and the sticky sap Miss Harris would tell her grandkids get me a switch You can get a whooping or you can take a nap I'm from cousin Tommy and cousin Chat We played Piggie one. two. three with the stick, a Louisville Slugger, or with a wiffle ball bat We all liked our candy and our snowballs sweet We was told once those lights come on you better not be in the streets The adults in my building provided a safe backyard for us to play They did even better providing us with warm meals to eat and a warmer place to stay I am from Christian faith and Baptist denominations We can talk faith anytime but religion is often another conversation I am from Belmont Craigen, by the way of Lawndale, Austin, and Garfield and Humboldt parks I am from the west side of chicago, where you must watch how you carry it because it's just as Easy to become a man as it is to become a mark

Until the lion learns to write their own story, tales of the hunt will always glorify the hunter - African Proverb Copyright

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