I just read a blog by Luckie Daniels, Our Georgia Roots that got me to writing. It is a subject that I have thought a lot of about as I research. Luckie asks the question Could we be desensitized to slavery?
My maiden name is Cotten. When I was younger, some would call me "cotton picker." I hated it. Other than that, the subject of slavery didn't bother me. It was a fact of life, my ancestry. Besides, it was very far away. It didn't touch me.
Now, though, I am fascinated by the subject and the history of the Civil War. I know it is because of my addiction to genealogy. I now know that some of my great grandparents were slaves. My grandparents who I knew very well were just one generation away from slavery. I want to know all I can about them and my ancestors. It is frustrating that I can't find more out because of the institution. Slavery is a taboo subject for many slave and slave owner descendants. It prevents the sharing of information because of some subliminal guilt and resentment held on both sides.
So my answer to Luckie's question is no, most people aren't desensitized to slavery. I wish they were. Yes, slavery was evil but it is on a long list of the inhumane, evil things people have done and still do throughout history. If we could become desensitized to the subject of slavery, there would be no old wounds that need healing. If we could respect each other as part of the one family of man, then we could have objective discussions on so many levels. But I'm not holding my breath for that to happen soon.
I am desensitized. Just give me the information I am searching for. I don't hold you accountable for what your great-great-great-granddaddy did to my great-great-great grandma. I don't blame you. I want just the facts, thank you very much.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Friday, August 7, 2009
My genealogy habit
It is ironic to me that I am addicted to genealogy. The irony lies in my perception of myself as an outsider to my own family.
I first became interested in genealogy because my husband’s family and my father’s family came from the same section of Mississippi. My husband Craig had a cousin that everyone said looked just like me. Craig’s mother’s maiden name was Dillon. I knew I was related to Dillons. So I embarked on this ancestral trail to make sure I wasn’t related to my husband by blood. So far we are not.
I also was competing with my aunt Adrene Warren for archival information. Adrene did a considerable amount of legwork in finding out who the Koonces were. This was my maternal grandmother’s family. But my aunt stopped at that one line. She refused to research any other surname. She wasn't interested. So I jumped into the search in defiance to my aunt.
Wanting to know how in the world I fit in this crazy quilt of a family was probably another incentive to me as I continued to search for more ancestors. That and being nosy probably are what keeps me going after I hit my head on the brick walls of genealogy. Yet I still wonder why is it so important for me to know.
There are so many people that don’t care about their past. They are more interested in the here and now. Isn’t that the way it should be? But I believe there also needs to be someone that keeps checking the rear view mirror of our lives so that we don’t go off the straight and narrow path; so that we treasure what is beautiful and unique about our particular family; so that we don’t forget the precious and the notorious individuals that share our genes. There’s usually at least one person in the family who is the clearinghouse of that information. Maybe that's it. Maybe that's the reason I am hooked on genealogy. I'm on a mission. My mission to be the clearinghouse publisher.
I first became interested in genealogy because my husband’s family and my father’s family came from the same section of Mississippi. My husband Craig had a cousin that everyone said looked just like me. Craig’s mother’s maiden name was Dillon. I knew I was related to Dillons. So I embarked on this ancestral trail to make sure I wasn’t related to my husband by blood. So far we are not.
I also was competing with my aunt Adrene Warren for archival information. Adrene did a considerable amount of legwork in finding out who the Koonces were. This was my maternal grandmother’s family. But my aunt stopped at that one line. She refused to research any other surname. She wasn't interested. So I jumped into the search in defiance to my aunt.
Wanting to know how in the world I fit in this crazy quilt of a family was probably another incentive to me as I continued to search for more ancestors. That and being nosy probably are what keeps me going after I hit my head on the brick walls of genealogy. Yet I still wonder why is it so important for me to know.
There are so many people that don’t care about their past. They are more interested in the here and now. Isn’t that the way it should be? But I believe there also needs to be someone that keeps checking the rear view mirror of our lives so that we don’t go off the straight and narrow path; so that we treasure what is beautiful and unique about our particular family; so that we don’t forget the precious and the notorious individuals that share our genes. There’s usually at least one person in the family who is the clearinghouse of that information. Maybe that's it. Maybe that's the reason I am hooked on genealogy. I'm on a mission. My mission to be the clearinghouse publisher.
Monday, July 20, 2009
Oral Legends
Oral legends are the beginning points of most genealogical pursuits. We take them with a grain of salt knowing that they must be corroborated before the legend can become history. We hope that there is enough truth in the legend as we search for evidence.
I am following several family lines each with an oral legend. However, when it comes to my Alexander line, I have a wealth of oral legends and they all contradict each other.
The facts: John Alexander and his wife Catherine lived in Lincoln County, Mississippi with several of their children in 1870. According to the census, John was from Virginia and Catherine was from Maryland.
Oral legend as told to me by my aunt Hortense: John took the name Alexander as his surname because it was Catherine's and because he had some beef against his last slave owner whose surname was Huffman. There are Huffmans living close by on the 1870 census so it kind of made sense. Still, it is conjecture not fact.
Oral legend as told by Florence Octavia Townsend in her bio: "My grandfather, John was born in Liberia and captured and brought to this country when he was twelve years old. He was a slave on the Lambright plantation in Virginia. He was sold to the Huffman plantation in Alabama. He married another slave named Catherine (originally from India) on the Huffman plantation. During the Civil War he ran away and worked for the union forces. After the war he returned home and took his wife and children to Mississippi. Because a union officer named “Alexander” had impressed him he changed the family’s name to that of Alexander. He and Cahterine had twelve children, nine sons and three daughters." Catherine is identified as black not East Indian on the censuses. I have not been able to find a Lambright or Huffman plantation yet in the named states. I have not determined if the John Alexander that I located in the Civil War records is my ancestor or not. I am dubious that someone moved to Mississippi by choice. Still, these are not facts, just legend.
Now I have been told another story by another Alexander. She said as far as she knows John was always an Alexander who lived on a plantation in Virginia called Strouder (sic). She does not know how he got to Mississippi and she never heard of John being in the Civil War.
The one constant is Virginia in this story. The rest are loose strings hanging out on my ancestry tapestry. But this is what is fun about genealogy--being a detective in my own detective story.
I am following several family lines each with an oral legend. However, when it comes to my Alexander line, I have a wealth of oral legends and they all contradict each other.
The facts: John Alexander and his wife Catherine lived in Lincoln County, Mississippi with several of their children in 1870. According to the census, John was from Virginia and Catherine was from Maryland.
Oral legend as told to me by my aunt Hortense: John took the name Alexander as his surname because it was Catherine's and because he had some beef against his last slave owner whose surname was Huffman. There are Huffmans living close by on the 1870 census so it kind of made sense. Still, it is conjecture not fact.
Oral legend as told by Florence Octavia Townsend in her bio: "My grandfather, John was born in Liberia and captured and brought to this country when he was twelve years old. He was a slave on the Lambright plantation in Virginia. He was sold to the Huffman plantation in Alabama. He married another slave named Catherine (originally from India) on the Huffman plantation. During the Civil War he ran away and worked for the union forces. After the war he returned home and took his wife and children to Mississippi. Because a union officer named “Alexander” had impressed him he changed the family’s name to that of Alexander. He and Cahterine had twelve children, nine sons and three daughters." Catherine is identified as black not East Indian on the censuses. I have not been able to find a Lambright or Huffman plantation yet in the named states. I have not determined if the John Alexander that I located in the Civil War records is my ancestor or not. I am dubious that someone moved to Mississippi by choice. Still, these are not facts, just legend.
Now I have been told another story by another Alexander. She said as far as she knows John was always an Alexander who lived on a plantation in Virginia called Strouder (sic). She does not know how he got to Mississippi and she never heard of John being in the Civil War.
The one constant is Virginia in this story. The rest are loose strings hanging out on my ancestry tapestry. But this is what is fun about genealogy--being a detective in my own detective story.
Baclk in Indiana
I am back from short trip to Mississippi wiser but not much more informed. I learned that I need to go to the courts because the records that I need are not in the archives. I learned that it is going to take a lot of patience unearthing the data. I'm an information archaeologist. Discovery doesn't happen over night.
It is frustrating and disappointing but I am more determined than ever to find my ancestors. Whenever I google my great grandfather's name, the search only turns up my references. That doesn't help me but just think, it does turn up.
It is frustrating and disappointing but I am more determined than ever to find my ancestors. Whenever I google my great grandfather's name, the search only turns up my references. That doesn't help me but just think, it does turn up.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Cemetery Abomination
It is heartbreaking to mourn and bury a loved one. I know. I buried my husband 10 years ago. That is why I am so appalled and outraged by the actions of several individuals that defiled graves so that they could resell the plots over and over again. It is estimated that the crooks made as much as $300,000 in the last few years. According to the newspapers, three gravediggers and a cemetery manager unearthed hundreds of corpses, dumping some of them in a weeded area and double-stacking others in existing graves.
Burr Oak Cemetery of Alsip is the final resting place for many Chicago African-Americans, some famous. Emmett Till was buried there. His casket has been found neglected and rusted in a back storage room at the cemetery. This is wrong on so many levels.
In a week I will be heading to Jackson, Mississippi and Nashville, Tennessee. I hope to visit some of my ancestors' graves. The joy I will feel if I can find my great grandparents headstones will be so monumental. They died decades ago. That's why I am so angry that some people took that joy, that peace, the permanence away from so many families for money. If there are such things as spirits haunting those that disturb their final resting place, I hope they get to haunting those felons.
Burr Oak Cemetery of Alsip is the final resting place for many Chicago African-Americans, some famous. Emmett Till was buried there. His casket has been found neglected and rusted in a back storage room at the cemetery. This is wrong on so many levels.
In a week I will be heading to Jackson, Mississippi and Nashville, Tennessee. I hope to visit some of my ancestors' graves. The joy I will feel if I can find my great grandparents headstones will be so monumental. They died decades ago. That's why I am so angry that some people took that joy, that peace, the permanence away from so many families for money. If there are such things as spirits haunting those that disturb their final resting place, I hope they get to haunting those felons.
Friday, June 26, 2009
Michael Jackson - a part of HIStory
It was a shock to hear of Michael Jackson's death. He was born in my hometown so he is a part of my story. More importantly, though, he is a part of world culture's history.
I remember seeing posters about the Jackson Five on light posts all over Gary all the time. They constantly were performing. The family grew up in the shadow of Roosevelt High School, my alma mater. The boys were always performing on the talent shows and always won. My husband's claim to fame is that his jazz combo beat the Jackson Five in a talent contest there. It was unheard of for someone to beat them. In my high school yearbook there is a picture of the Jackson Five performing at the Masque and Gavel Talent show. This was before they became a national phenomenon. Jackie, Michael's oldest brother, even sang in the Madrigal Choir, the elite singing group of my school, with my sister.
When they appeared on the Ed Sullivan show it was a major event for every Black person from Gary. It may be difficult for this generation to understand how important that was to Black people. Whenever any Black entertainer appeared on the Ed Sullivan show it was a red letter day. I remember the day I heard that the Jackson Five would be on TV and would sing "I Want You Back." Of course, I watched. I got to see them in person before they disbanded and observed the madness of fans' obsession at close range.
The citizens of Gary were so proud of the Jacksons. We got bad press all the time but we could point to the Jacksons and Avery Brooks and Deniece Williams and William Marshall and Ernest Thomas of "What's Hapening" and say Gary can't be all bad. It produced all these people.
Before Michael Jackson, music was divided by race. He changed that. That was monumental. Today's generation doesn't realized that. He transformed the music video into a necessity for marketing music.
I am so very sad. I have always been a fan and ignored the bad publicity that followed him. He is gone too soon like his song. And like his song, we never can say good bye. He was not just a super star. He was a super nova, shining so brightly and extinguishing too quickly. Rest in peace. The king is dead. Long live the king.
I remember seeing posters about the Jackson Five on light posts all over Gary all the time. They constantly were performing. The family grew up in the shadow of Roosevelt High School, my alma mater. The boys were always performing on the talent shows and always won. My husband's claim to fame is that his jazz combo beat the Jackson Five in a talent contest there. It was unheard of for someone to beat them. In my high school yearbook there is a picture of the Jackson Five performing at the Masque and Gavel Talent show. This was before they became a national phenomenon. Jackie, Michael's oldest brother, even sang in the Madrigal Choir, the elite singing group of my school, with my sister.
When they appeared on the Ed Sullivan show it was a major event for every Black person from Gary. It may be difficult for this generation to understand how important that was to Black people. Whenever any Black entertainer appeared on the Ed Sullivan show it was a red letter day. I remember the day I heard that the Jackson Five would be on TV and would sing "I Want You Back." Of course, I watched. I got to see them in person before they disbanded and observed the madness of fans' obsession at close range.
The citizens of Gary were so proud of the Jacksons. We got bad press all the time but we could point to the Jacksons and Avery Brooks and Deniece Williams and William Marshall and Ernest Thomas of "What's Hapening" and say Gary can't be all bad. It produced all these people.
Before Michael Jackson, music was divided by race. He changed that. That was monumental. Today's generation doesn't realized that. He transformed the music video into a necessity for marketing music.
I am so very sad. I have always been a fan and ignored the bad publicity that followed him. He is gone too soon like his song. And like his song, we never can say good bye. He was not just a super star. He was a super nova, shining so brightly and extinguishing too quickly. Rest in peace. The king is dead. Long live the king.
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