Southside Story – Winter 1971–72 Part 28: New Year’s Eve & New Year’s Day 1972
Winter break settled in fully, and for the first time in weeks, Derrick didn’t have to think about school, football drills, or homework. Just cold air, snow-covered sidewalks, and long days where anything could happen. But December 31st had its own feeling. A feeling that something was ending. And something else—something new—was waiting on the other side.
The whole day felt electric in the neighborhood. Kids were out on the blocks running around in boots, throwing snow at each other, daring each other to slide down the steep hills, trying not to break their necks. The crew met up at Tony’s house around noon.
Inside, the house smelled like fried chicken, sweet potatoes, and something good baking in the oven that Tony’s mom refused to let anyone taste early. Leon was playing cards with Reggie. Marcus was watching some show on television. Tony was talking loud, laughing louder, and showing everybody the shirt his aunt sent him for Christmas. Derrick stepped in, snow falling off his coat.
“Man, you took forever,” Tony said.
“I had to shovel,” Derrick answered.
“No you didn’t,” Marcus shot back. “You just moved the snow around and called it shoveling.”
They all cracked up. It felt good. Normal. Warm. The plan for the night? Nothing big. Just what kids usually did on winter break: Stop by someone’s house, and drink pop, eat chips, watch TV, and joke about resolutions they wouldn’t keep. This year they were hanging out at Tony’s. His family was fine with it. His mom enjoyed cooking for the guys.
Over at the Washingtons’ home, things were different. They weren’t going out. They weren’t hosting a big crowd. It was Watch Night. A tradition that went back generations— a night families gathered in churches across the country to pray the old year out and welcome the new one in with worship, gratitude, and hope. Ms. Washington had explained it earlier in the week:
“We wait for midnight in God’s house. That’s how my parents did it, and their parents before them. It’s a night of thankfulness, baby.”
Tasha and Cathy wore nice dresses under warm coats. The sanctuary at St. Peter’s AME was bright with candles, a big banner reading
“WELCOME 1972: GOD’S GOT IT.” There was clapping and singing. Some people gave their testimony, and of course there was prayer. Young kids nodding off on laps, and older folks swaying with closed eyes. The pastor calling out:
“Somebody made it through this year! Say amen! Somebody got healed this year! Say amen! Somebody still standing! Say amen!”
At 11:59 p.m., the whole church grew quiet. The pastor prayed the New Year in. A clock ticked on the back wall. When the bell finally chimed and 1972 arrived, the room erupted:
“HALLELUJAH!”
“THANK YOU, JESUS!”
Kids blowing little paper horns. People hugging. The choir breaking into “Glory, Glory, Hallelujah.”
Tasha thought of her father. She thought of her new life here. She thought of everything they survived. And she felt hopeful.
At Toney’s house, The crew counted it down. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… “HAPPY NEW YEAR!” Tony’s mom came into the living room with sparkling grape juice.
“Y’all better not spill this on my carpet!”
“Yes, ma’am!” they said together (already spilling some).
They toasted. They laughed. They made loud, ridiculous resolutions.
Marcus: “I’m growing three inches this year.”
Reggie: “I’m gonna start lifting weights.”
Tony: “I’m gonna take out Tonya Lee. Finest girl at school.”
Leon: “Y’all already lying.”
Derrick didn’t say his resolution out loud. But he knew it: “Be better. Grow. And take care of the people who matter.”
After Midnight Around 12:30 a.m., when things quieted down, Derrick slipped into Tony’s room and used the phone on the desk. He dialed the Washingtons’ number. Tasha answered softly.
“Hello?”
“Happy New Year,” Derrick said.
She smiled into the receiver. He could hear it.
“Happy New Year, Derrick.”
“How was church?”
“Beautiful. A lot of singing. A lot of praying.”
He hesitated.
“You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said. “I just… feel grateful. And a little tired.”
“Same,” he admitted.
They didn’t talk long— just enough to smile through the phone, enough to feel connected, enough to feel like stepping into a new year wasn’t lonely at all. Before hanging up, she said:
“I’m glad you called.”
“Yeah,” Derrick answered, heart warm. “Me too.”
In the morning, New Year’s Day, the whole city felt sleepy. Some neighbors shoveled early. Some slept in. Some went straight to the kitchen to cook the New Year’s meal: Black-eyed peas, collard greens, ham. Derrick’s mother said the peas brought luck, and the greens brought money, and Derrick absolutely believed her.
Family dropped by throughout the day. His sisters played with new holiday toys. Relatives watched the bowl games on TV. His dad sat quietly in his chair reading the paper, humming old songs. The fellas met outside in the afternoon, walking with hands in pockets, kicking at chunks of snow and talking about everything and nothing: The upcoming basketball games at Bryant, how cold Minnesota winters really were, what was coming up in the new year. Snowflakes drifted quietly around them, settling on coats and hats.
Later, at home when everyone else was relaxing after a day of food and activities, the phone rang. Derrick jumped to pick it up
“Happy New Year Derrick.”
It was Cathy
“Happy New Year.” Derrick responded, surprised that Cathy was calling.
“Hey Tash. Derrick’s on the phone.” She said laughing. She mumbled something to Tasha Derrick couldn’t make out.
“Girl, you’re silly.” Derrick heard Tasha say as Cathy handed her the phone.
“Derrick?” She
“Happy New Year. again” Derrick said. “What was that all about? he said laughing.
“My cousin just being her crazy, silly self.
Derrick laughed.
They talked longer this time, Derrick going into more detail about New Year’s Eve at Tony’s, and Tasha talked about what her family did during the day.
When they finally said good night, Derrick thought to himself that the year felt fresh. He closed his eyes for a moment, and felt something deep inside. Maybe it was hope. The hope that maybe this year would be something special. He didn’t know exactly how. But he could feel it.
