(excerpt from my essay, “And Only One Was a Full Grown Man”)

At 6 o’clock in 1973, Black Larry’s voice, tainted by an opiate drawl, cut through a quiet summer morning: “Floyd! Floyyyyyd! Floyd!” Larry was standing in the driveway between my house and Floyd’s, right underneath my bedroom window. Bobby’s whining holler woke me up.

“Floyd! Floyyyd! Wake up man. Play some of that Marvin Gaye. Play that Marvin Gaye, man.” Floyd had a loud stereo that he build himself. He was the genius of the block.

Next thing I heard was the twang-twang-wah-wah sounding guitar, then the drum…

Karen D. Taylor

Karen D. Taylor is an essayist, editor, sometime vocalist, and the founder/executive director of Harlem preservation organization, While We Are Still Here.

A button that says 'Download on the App Store', and if clicked it will lead you to the iOS App store
A button that says 'Get it on, Google Play', and if clicked it will lead you to the Google Play store