1960s Oakland, California and its tumultuous social justice scene provided a scintillating backdrop for One Crazy Summer. We were then spirited across the United States to Brooklyn, New York for P.S. Be Eleven, where people had a different attitude from the Black Panthers of California. Another extreme culture shift takes place in Gone Crazy in Alabama as sisters Delphine, Vonetta, and Fern travel by themselves for an extended stay with Big Ma (their paternal grandmother) and her mother, Ma Charles, in small-town Alabama. If Brooklyn was hesitant to embrace the Black Panther philosophy of racial outspokenness, Alabama is miles behind Brooklyn, and Delphine's father makes sure his three girls know this prior to their trip. Social rhetoric that would be praised in Oakland and accepted without comment in Brooklyn could be downright dangerous in the Deep South, and Papa doesn't want his daughters shipped back to New York in coffins because they couldn't control their smart mouths. It's Delphine's responsibility to keep them out of trouble, and she takes it seriously. This summer is certain to be an illuminating adventure.
"You don't know something bothers you until you no longer have to do it. Suddenly you're both angry and glad. Angry you did it for all those years and glad you'll never do it again."
—Gone Crazy in Alabama, P. 33
On the family farm in Alabama, Ma Charles is as authoritative a figure as Big Ma was in Brooklyn. A spry, almost sassy eighty-two years of age, she welcomes her great-granddaughters affectionately, but lets them know how things are going to be soon after they arrive. Miss Trotter, Ma Charles's sister, is one of only two neighbors within shouting distance, and she and Ma Charles have quarreled for years. As Delphine and her younger sisters get to know their great-aunt, Miss Trotter and Ma Charles take turns telling them stories and tossing in barbs at each other for the girls to deliver, an insult war that is entertaining for Vonetta and Fern if nothing else. Delphine wants the elderly sisters to reconcile, but they seem content taking jabs at each other about their confusing family history. The other close neighbor, Mr. Lucas, is sweet on the widowed Big Ma, but she wants nothing to do with him, pointedly ignoring his overtures despite Ma Charles's exasperated protests. The big city is its own brand of insane, but Delphine has never seen crazy like social life down South.
Maybe sibling rivalry is contagious. Delphine and Vonetta sure rub each other wrong as their stay in Alabama continues. Vonetta picks on Fern and Delphine feels compelled to stand up for her youngest sister, which triggers Vonetta's anger. The sisters' uncanny ability to always be on the same page is floundering, but that could just be because they're getting older and forming individualized lives. Delphine doesn't want her relationship with Vonetta to someday mirror Ma Charles's with Miss Trotter, but it's hard to get along with Vonetta when she acts thorny as a porcupine. The vacation veers into scary territory the afternoon of the worst storm in local memory, when everything Delphine thought was hers forever is jeopardized in a nightmare parade of bad choices. Is a family so fragile it can be obliterated in a few tragic seconds, with no do-over? If a second chance emerges from out of mourning, will we learn from the past and snatch it before the offer is rescinded? Delphine, Vonetta, and Fern have much to learn about family, love, prejudice, and justice on their march toward adolescence, and no member of their inner circle is close to being a perfect example. But it starts with a family who will do and sacrifice anything for one another, and they no doubt have that.
"(I)f you prayed for the miracle you'd sell your most treasured possession for, you don't care about anything else but waiting on that miracle."
—Gone Crazy in Alabama, P. 251
The story isn't as cohesive as P.S. Be Eleven, nor is the wisdom as winsome, but Gone Crazy in Alabama has its sparkling moments. The Gaither sisters have deep wounds inside they need to heal, such as their mother (Cecile) and others walking out on them. We see the hurt in Delphine's recurring dream: "I've been dreaming...running to the door to keep it from closing hard...to keep footsteps from walking out...walking away...away...But as long as my legs are, I never get to the front door fast enough. As strong as my arms are, I can't keep Cecile from leaving. Uncle Darnell from leaving. Big Ma from leaving. Or Mrs., when she's mad...I can't stop the dreams. I can't stop seeing the opened door and the footsteps." How can you feel secure when the ones you love might leave and never return because you aggravate them, or you're not enough to make them want to stay? Delphine, Vonetta, and Fern know the pain of goodbye when it truly means gone. And slavery in the U.S. may have been abolished a hundred years earlier, but there's danger for young blacks who lack caution. The Ku Klux Klan is past its heyday even in Alabama, but men in white sheets still ride, and some foes are less easily recognizable. "There's Klan everywhere," a close family member warns Delphine. "You just have to see them." When you're vulnerable to injustice because of who you are, enemies don't always announce their presence, but they're watching. Avoid giving them an excuse to persecute you, and you'll survive to make your case for equality. Something tells me Delphine and her sisters could do a lot to enlighten the world through their childhood experiences.
Gone Crazy in Alabama has more in common with One Crazy Summer than with P.S. Be Eleven. To me the middle novel is by far the best, and the other two are roughly equal. The Gaither/Charles/Trotter family tree is convoluted and challenging to follow, but the people we meet from it are warm, real, and all have their place in the story. I'm not as big a Rita Williams-Garcia fan as some, but I respect her writing and plan on reading more. I might give Gone Crazy in Alabama two and a half stars, and I recommend it to those who loved One Crazy Summer. I wish the Gaither sisters my best, and the same for the author who brought them to life. These books have helped open eyes and minds, and for that they deserve to be honored.