(5/5) “Right away I knew I was in trouble. I typed ‘bookmobiles’...

(5/5) “Right away I knew I was in trouble. I typed ‘bookmobiles’ into Google and found an article from 1955. That was almost seventy years ago. And bookmobiles were costing $55,000 even back then. I wanted to run away and hide. I’d been so naïve. Where was I going to park a bookmobile? And who’s going to drive this thing? So many worries were racing through my mind. And I couldn’t even call Winslow anymore, because he’s 97 now. Me and Spike Lee were going to have to figure this out on our own. Because a promise is a promise. And I said it out loud. So I dusted myself off and organized a Bookmobile Block Party on Juneteenth. We had some performers. We had a little raffle. We collected donations. But Grandma had gotten a little too excited again. I rented some DJ equipment. I got 500 bottles of water. And when the smoke had cleared, the Bookmobile Block Party lost money. I mean big time. The whole neighborhood had a great time. They were all saying: ‘What a big success!’ And I was faking it. I was smiling, and dancing. But inside I’m thinking: ‘Oh God, Grandma. What have you done? You lost the rent money.’ I had to pull out my secret stash. Twenty years of struggle, and I never once touched the stash. The stash was off limits. But Grandma is in the stash now. Deep in the stash. There isn’t even a stash anymore. But a promise is a promise. There are nearly 28,000 homeless children in Harlem, and I want them reading books. Because books were my only friends growing up. My mother worked three jobs. My older sister dropped me off at the library so she could run the streets. Books are what showed me that there was another way to live. I saw myself in the characters. They got me thinking that I could improve my life. And whenever I think hard about something, it happens. So every morning I wake up at 4:44 AM. I stare at the ceiling, and I really think about that bookmobile. I see it driving down the street. I see those wheels turning. I see the kids running along the side, waiting for it to stop. I can even see the name, written on the side, in big letters. I can see it, clear as day. It says: ‘GRANDMA’S PROMISE.’”


For weeks we’d been searching for a partner to help Grandma Dawn with her promise. And it was so hard to find a good fit. Turns out there is tons of red tape involved in the operation of a bookmobile. (Not to mention money.) I didn’t even think of asking Tony Hillery until I was publishing Harlem Grown’s story on Sunday. Mr. Tony responded immediately with an offer to build ‘Grandma’s Promise’ libraries on his urban farms. He then offered to include a book collection on his Mobile Teaching Kitchen, serving the exact same children that Grandma dreamed of reaching. It was a match made in heaven. When Grandma went to visit Tony’s garden today, she said a butterfly landed on her. Twice. Double confirmation. This collaboration gives us a unique opportunity to empower two individuals who have devoted their lives to helping the children of Harlem. If you’d like to help fulfill Grandma’s promise, you can contribute here: https://bit.ly/grandmapromise