There’s a tradition, particularly in the South, of claiming an ancestor was “full-blooded Cherokee” and for most, it’s just a charming family myth. In Delilah Barber’s case, however, it was true. Her mother’s mother was born into a tribe in North Carolina and came to Georgia with her non-Native-American husband about a year before Delilah’s mother, Persephone, was born.
Delilah’s father was Gary Barber, an Air Force pilot who was killed in Vietnam around the time Delilah was two. His remains were never recovered, however, prompting Persephone to believe he would one day return. Consequently, Delilah was very close to her mother, who worked as a stylist at a salon in Canton, about forty miles northwest of Atlanta. She was the one who named Delilah, giving her the name of the most infamous hair stylist of all time. One of their favorite activities together was to pop some popcorn and watch Steel Magnolias, and they sometimes quoted lines to each other.
Since she was often at home in the afternoon by herself, Delilah watched a lot of television. One evening, she caught an episode of Soap featuring the ventriloquist Jay Johnson with his dummy, Bob. Delilah was fascinated with his act and started watching everything she could about ventriloquism. She borrowed some books from the library and started teaching herself how to throw her voice
When Delilah was twelve, her mother married Martin Crawford. The whole time they’d been dating, he seemed reasonably normal, but once they were married, he became very possessive toward Persephone and physically abusive toward her and verbally abusive to his stepdaughter. He insisted Persephone stop working and often criticized her cooking and cleaning. When she didn’t seem thankful enough for all he was doing for them, he began hitting her. The first time he struck Delilah, however, Persephone decided that was enough and made plans to leave.
Delilah and Persephone had been living in the household of Martin “Mac” Crawford for not quite eighteen months. His violence toward Persephone had escalated to several beatings a week, always in a drunken rage, and quite a bit of verbal abuse directed at Delilah. One evening, she was working on a school project at the kitchen table when Mac stumbled in, demanding dinner. Seeing the table full of Delilah’s papers and pens, he flew into a rage and began ripping up the pages and breaking the pencils and pens. When Delilah intervened to stop him, he backhanded her, knocking her to the ground.
Persephone jumped in between Mac and Delilah and pounded Mac with her fists, screaming, “Don’t you ever put your dirty hands on my little girl again.”
Mac was caught off guard by her defiance and stumbled out of the kitchen. Delilah heard the front door slam and Mac’s car start outside.
Persephone knelt beside her daughter and hugged her tightly. “Oh, baby girl. I am so sorry I got you into this mess.”
“That’s okay, Mama. It’s not your fault.”
“You go pack some things. We’re going to go stay with Wanda.”
“Okay, Mama.”
Delilah went to her room and got out her big suitcase. She emptied her dresser and was in the process of emptying her closet when she heard a commotion outside. She cracked the door to her room and could hear Mac’s voice coming from the room he and her mother shared. She crept down the hall and peered through the half open door. Mac was standing with his back to the door, pointing a gun at Persephone, who was shaking her head. An open suitcase was on the bed, filled with clothes.
“Mac, you put that down and get out of my way.”
“You ain’t going nowhere,” he said, halfway between pleading and angry.
“Give me the gun,” she said, taking a step toward Mac with her hand out.
Now, with much more anger, Mac said, “You ain’t walking out of here alive and neither is that girl. I’ll kill her right in front of you, I will.”
Persephone lunged at Mac screaming, but all Delilah heard were two shots in rapid succession. Persephone dropped to her knees, then fell face down against the bed.
“Mama!” Delilah cried out. Mac turned toward the door.
“You little bitch,” he said. “You’re next.”
Delilah ran into the living room and hid behind the large recliner against the wall. She could hear the door to the bedroom hit the wall as Mac flung it open.
“Where you at?” Mac yelled. “You ain’t getting out of here.”
His footsteps grew louder as he entered the living room. He yelled from near the couch. “Come out from behind there.”
Trapped behind the chair, with no place to run and no way to fight off her stepfather, Delilah did the only thing she could think to do. She threw her voice. She shrieked, “Leave me alone!” only she made it sound like it was coming from the direction of the hall closet.
And it worked.
Mac heard her and stumbled to the closet, throwing open the door and leaning in. “Come on out, you little bitch!”
Delilah rushed toward Mac and threw her entire weight against him, knocking him into the closet. She slammed the door behind him and propped a chair under the door handle. She could hear him yelling, “Dammit! You open this door you bitch.”
Delilah fled the house and ran next door for help.
When the police arrived, Delilah led them to the front steps and told them where to find Mac. Then an officer waited with her in the yard until she heard over the radio, “Suspect has been disarmed and is in custody.”
The officers led Mac out, stopping a few feet from where Delilah stood.
“Is this the man who hurt your mother?” the lead officer said.
“Yes, sir. He shot my Mama,” she said, pointing at Mac. “I saw him. I saw it all.”
She was taken to the police station where she gave them the full story. Her aunt Wanda arrived to take responsibility for Delilah and to make arrangements for Persephone. Months later, after Delilah repeated her story at the trial, Mac was sentenced to life without parole.
Wanda was named Delilah’s guardian.
While she’s a sophomore at Georgia State University, Delilah competes in the Miss Georgia Pageant. She gets the opportunity by winning a local contest in Canton where she’s still listed in her aunt Wanda’s household, despite living in an apartment in Doraville while she’s attending GSU. Delilah views it as the culmination of years of hard work and dedication, but for Wanda, it’s another step in Delilah’s route to Miss America.
“Nothing but good things are coming your way, Sweetie.”
Delilah knows most of the contestants, having competed against many of them in contests throughout the state. There are a few new faces as well, but mostly seasoned veterans, since this is the ultimate contest in Georgia, to which they all aspire. She’s made many friends and sparked a few friendly and one or two not-so-friendly rivalries over the years.
Most of the competition is familiar to Delilah and, while challenging, the requirements don’t faze her much. Her talent, ventriloquism, sets her apart from the other contestants and Delilah considers this her ace in the hole. It is the impromptu speech that concerns her. Her topic is “The Person Who Most Inspires Me”.
“There’s only one person who really inspires me,” she tells Wanda. “Well, you too, obviously, but not like Mama did.”
“I know that Sweetie,” Wanda says. “You’re going to have to tell ‘em about Persi.”
“I can’t talk about Mama without crying.”
“All the better, Sweetie. They’ll know it’s from the heart.”
When the time comes, Delilah takes her place at the mic, breathes in deeply and lets it out slowly. “The person who most inspires me is my Mom. I never knew my father because he never came back from overseas, so it was always just me and Mama. When I was little, we always watched Steel Magnolias together. That was Mama’s favorite. It was our weekly appointment, she’d tell me. We always had so much fun, especially when she took me to work with her.” A tear runs down her cheek. “I lost her too soon as well.”
Suddenly, she leaves the hall and travels back to the police station in Canton where she first told the story and she’s fourteen and sitting on a steel chair and holding the teddy bear that the desk sergeant gave her tightly against her chest. She finds it hard to meet the investigator’s eyes because talking about what happened to her mother upsets her, but she knows she has to say the words. She gives the full account of Mac’s behavior and him hitting her and Persephone’s reaction and the aftermath and how she got away from Mac. The interviewer seems puzzled.
“What do you mean you threw your voice? I don’t understand.”
Delilah looks up at the investigator and instead of saying what she meant, she puts the teddy bear onto the table and clutches it from behind, so she can move its head and arms. She has the bear face the investigator, who is startled when the bear begins to speak.
“Hello! I’m Teddy. What’s your name?”
“That’s incredible. Hello. Ah. Teddy. My name’s Monyea.”
“Hi, Monyea. So nice to meet you. You know my friend Delilah.”
“I sure do. She’s a very brave young woman.”
“Delilah doesn’t feel very brave. She’s really scared, and she misses her mother.”
“I know. I’m so sorry for what’s happened. But Delilah’s going to help us get the man who did this. I know her mother would be very proud of her right now.”
When Delilah finishes her abbreviated version of the story, she told the investigator (minus the gory details and harsh language) there is subdued silence throughout the hall. No one seems to know how to respond. The emcee stands just offstage, clutching the mic, but staring at his feet, a grave look on his face.
Then the first smattering of applause is heard which grows until it’s deafening, and the crowd rises to its feet, pounding their hands together, some cheering. Delilah manages to smile through her tears and waves to the crowd. One of the other contestants comes forward and wraps her arms around Delilah. All the others follow and form a tight circle around her.
Many years later, when she is asked to testify before the parole board, considering the release of Mac Crawford, she will repeat the story as she has many times before and since and once again, she will cry as she always does. Delilah swears that if she ever tells that story and doesn’t cry, she’ll stop telling it.