This spoon represents all the baking my mom, Pattie L. Alston use to do when we were growing up. As soon as you turned the corner on Uber St., the smell of fresh baked biscuits, cakes, or pies would hit your nose. We grew up with homemade bread, whether it was yeast rolls, all kinds of biscuits or fried bread. We didn’t use white bread until we went to junior high school. It took us a while to adjust to eating it. My dad died at forty-one, leaving my mom with eight children. She started to cook for the post office, private parties and dinners. Every holiday I know she must have backed 200-300 or more sweet potato pies and cakes. Some of her customers have been buying her baked goods for thirty years or more. When she wasn’t busy cooking, she was sewing. She’s made hundreds of gowns, dresses and pant, suits for many people in and out of our neighborhood in the 700 block of Uber St.