Mary Beasley's Influence On John Sheppard

Mary Beasley was seven years old when she first met John Sheppard. It was the middle of harvest season, and he was working with his daddy in the shed where he ran his smithy. David Sheppard was one of the few Negro men to have his own business, and while he wasn’t taking in enough work to make the white men mad, he was doing enough to get by.
John Sheppard was eight years old and already learning the trade. With a family owned business being so rare, John knew he would take over for his father when he could work no longer. Though he couldn’t quite lift the heavy hammers or work the intricate tools, he helped where he could, refilling the fire and getting new buckets of water.
Mary Beasley’s father Matthew was a cropper, and her mother did

laundry for some of the families nearby. Matthew had needed to get a shoe fixed for the landowner’s horse in a hurry, and trusted David to get it done right. With his wife out returning laundry, he brought Mary with him.
As David worked the shoe and the two men talked, Mary helped John carry in more wood.

She enjoyed being useful, and helping where she could. There was no great moment as Mary and John talked, no recognition of soulmates. In the back of her head, she acknowledged he was handsome, as much as seven-year-olds can do so. They developed the fast friendship of young children, bonding over, of all things, their love of wisterias.
When David was finished and paid, and Mary and Matthew were walking back to the farm plot, she told her father about John. Mary had no siblings, and they were the only family working the land. She didn’t leave the farm much, and Matthew was delighted she had someone new in her

life.
Matthew was not as close to his daughter as he would have liked; his time in the field and Mary’s assistance of her mother made it difficult for them to spend time together. He planned to bring Mary along with him the next time he saw David.
1924
For the first time in almost 30 years, Mary was alone during harvest season.
She saw John at least once a month when her father would visit the shop, and she came more on her own as she grew older.

John was taking care of half the workload by his 15th birthday, so Mary would often come sit in the shop and tell him about her day. She would fetch more wood and water like they did together as kids, and he realized that he worked better with her there.
He was 18 when he told Matthew Beasley that he would like nothing more than to spend his life with Mary. With her father’s permission, they married in September, and moved into the house with his own father.
MARY GAVE A halfhearted glance at the wisteria bushes in front of the house. She could hear her youngest, Pearl, humming in the living room. Marion, her oldest, had only just been married, and now lived a little ways down the street. Hattie though. Hattie was most likely off with that boy from a few streets over. August. The two had met the month after the Sheppards moved into the neighborhood, and had scarcely been seen without each other since.
He was respectful to the family and always had Hattie home before late. But there was something about that man that made her uneasy. She was going to have to talk with her soon. Mary remembered being 16 and in love; mistakes could be made if she wasn’t

careful.
WHEN MARION WAS BORN in June of 1906, Mary was so filled with joy she could never imagine losing it. When her father passed away from Pott’s that next month, and David the two weeks after, she could never imagine getting that happiness back. Her father and John were her two weights holding her to this world, and she felt off missing one.
John and Mary found solace in each other, for who else would know their pain better? They mourned and moved on, and Hattie was born in 1908, with Pearl following in 1909. John’s skills had long surpassed those of his father, and the family had had enough success to open a real workshop. There were murmurs from some of the white folk in the town, but that seemed to be all they were.
John often lost track of time in the shop, so Mary wasn’t too concerned when he missed supper. He sometimes needed to stay all through the night to work bigger projects, so she went to bed without fear. She was always lending a hand to the neighbors, so she thought nothing of the knock at her door early in the morning.
SHE REMEMBERED the look on the face of John’s apprentice and knew without hearing.
She remembered watching his lips move, explaining how he had been shot by someone near him, but it seemed was like being underwater for all she could hear.
She remembered feeling as though she was drowning, being dragged down by the weight of John’s death. Only feeling rage at the thought of the white men, John’s rivals, casually mentioning it at their local bar. She felt that weight drag her down, reliving that pain over and over, never getting to mourn him properly as the white men descended like vultures. Only feeling rage at the thought of the white men, John’s rivals, casually mentioning it at their local bar.
STARING AT THE wisteria bush, she relived that drowning. She felt herself sink deeper than she had ever before. A sickened part of her realized; she felt balanced again.