Real news. Real stories. Real voices.
Play Live Radio
Next Up:
0:00
0:00
0:00 0:00
Available On Air Stations
Supported by
NPR

Father and son reflect on Black love and loss

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

STEVE INSKEEP, HOST:

It's Friday - OK, Friday the 13th, but still Friday and time for StoryCorps.

Sponsor Message

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

KYLE MORRIS-SOL: I am Kyle Morris-Sol right out here in Philadelphia, speaking to my pop, Kyle Morris Sr.

KYLE MORRIS SR: And we're going to do this thing right here, right now.

MORRIS-SOL: For shizzle.

INSKEEP: This father and son sat down to talk about where they find joy, resilience and love. Their conversation is from StoryCorps' new Brightness in Black project.

Sponsor Message

MORRIS: What does Black love mean to you and where do you see it in your life?

MORRIS-SOL: Black love to me, man, it's just like this force of nature, not being afraid to hold someone or scold them or hold them accountable or uplift them. And the ways that it showed up in my life was seeing you and Mom together, not just, like, holding the door for her but how y'all would laugh together and play. Her singing to me at night, rubbing my back so I could fall asleep at 3, 4, 5 years old - or Grandma, your mother, making sure when I came over there after school, I had some toast with butter and chocolate milk. Nesquik powder, two scoops, sometimes three if I'm feeling froggy.

MORRIS: When you bring up the Nestle's Quik, I could see that metal can in her cupboard. And I would get the biggest glass and turn it into a milkshake, it was so doggone thick with chocolate.

MORRIS-SOL: Yeah. And just being at the opposite ends of the table, sharing space, holding space, you know, that's love. And I saw you shed one tear my whole life, and that was at Grandma's funeral. And it was just one tear.

MORRIS: The tears that I did shed, I always shed privately. You needed strength around you to hold you together, so I had to put up a front. And I never really cried hard for my mom, though. Maybe I should.

Sponsor Message

MORRIS-SOL: But you can.

MORRIS: (Crying).

MORRIS-SOL: Yeah. You got to let that out, man.

MORRIS: I never really cried for her. I just didn't know when it was going to come, and here it is. All that I held on from the day I found her, and then having to tell you and then be strong for everybody that walked through that door.

MORRIS-SOL: You did the best that you could with what you had. Most people would've crumbled, but you kept showing up. And I guess that's one of the things that I ultimately learned how to do, too, was just keep showing up, no matter how hard it got. And listening to you, I'm thinking about, like, what am I going to pass down to Moses, my son? Now, he's only 2, 2 and some change. But every night after we finish praying and giving thanks to the ancestors, I just talk to him about my fears, my concerns. I know he ain't responding because I start hearing him snore, but...

MORRIS: (Laughter).

MORRIS-SOL: I need to show that it's OK to feel what you feel. It's OK to let that hurt go. But it's also OK to ask for help. We can go so much further when we lean on one another. That's my word. Love you.

MORRIS: Love you, too.

(SOUNDBITE OF HENRY PARSLEY AND LOUIS EDWARDS' "STREET PREACHER")

INSKEEP: Kyle Morris Sr. with his son, Kyle Morris-Sol. Their interview is archived at the Library of Congress.

(SOUNDBITE OF HENRY PARSLEY AND LOUIS EDWARDS' "STREET PREACHER") Transcript provided by NPR, Copyright NPR.

NPR transcripts are created on a rush deadline by an NPR contractor. This text may not be in its final form and may be updated or revised in the future. Accuracy and availability may vary. The authoritative record of NPR’s programming is the audio record.

NPR
Sofiya Ballin
Michael Garofalo