Saved from a Dunbar Story...

I don't know how much if at all you have read the works of Paul Laurence Dunbar or Alice Dunbar-Nelson. They were a prominent African-American couple in the late 19th century and he's noted as one of America's most noteworthy Black writers up there with W.E.B. DuBois and Frederick Douglas. And for some reason, I've had a long standing fascination with African-American literature. He was a prolific poet and writer among which some of his most noted works are "We Wear the Mask" and Sport of the Gods. She wrote "Tony's Wife," "Stones of the Village" and many other short stories and poems. They seemed to be the ideal match, but under the surface of what society could see, he was abusive.

Currently, I'm reading Lyrics of Sunshine and Shadow as written by Eleanor Alexander. It provides a good historical understanding of their individual backgrounds, courtship, and marriage. To my surprise the much lauded writer, Paul Laurence Dunbar, was an alcoholic and not only raped Alice during their engagement, but nearly killed her on January 25, 1902 while they were married. That night was the was last time he ever saw her and she refused to correspond with him.

Looking at this relationship has made me take into account my own past. It is not to say that my ex-fiance Antoine R.J. Wright was an alcoholic (he never even drank) nor did he ever rape me. But after seeing him try to strangle his own flesh and blood, his sister; along with his repeated black-out anger fits that happened while living in Maryland, I am so glad that God literally saved me from what easily would have resulted in the abuse that Alice Dunbar-Nelson endured. The fact that we both love writing also made this parallel easy, even though neither of us have their standing yet in the writer's world.

God, forgive me for my stupidity in ever trying to make things work-out after the veil was lifted from my eyes concerning his temper and abusive nature. I'm so glad that God said "No!" even when I put the veil back on. It's sometimes so hard to remove yourself from a haze of perceived love, or what you hope is love.