Sometime before 1865 in Washington-Wilkes, my 4th Grandfather Philip CARTER, a slave, returned at the end of the day from working the fields to find his Wife and Children sold away.

Oral history says that when Grandpa Phil thought to question his owner’s actions, he received a stern warning to “let things be”, being told he could choose another wife and make more babies.

Grandpa Phil did just that — “let things be” and in 1869 married my 4th Grandmother Annie FAVER CARTER and yes, they had many babies.

Fast-forward 20 years.  In 1885 in Washington-Wilkes, my other 4th Grandfather, James WINGFIELD, an emancipated slave, returns from harvesting his land and heads to town to cash in his crops. Family history says that he purchased a pair of “brogans” and pick-up needed supplies for his pregnant Wife, Grandma Catie DICKEY WINGFIELD and their children, before heading to church to pray.

At some point between Downtown Washington-Wilkes, church and home something happened.

The details are unclear but it has been said my Grandpa James was accused of “talking back” to a white man. As a penalty, he was removed from his home on Whitehall Street, never to be seen again.

Grandma Catie was 7 months pregnant, with 4 small children at home at the time James disappeared. A year or so later, relatives found my Grandfather’s brogans and boots in the woods, at the bottom of a hanging tree.

Two Grandfathers and two instances that totally shifted my Family’s destiny. Both men defenseless; one a slave who dare not speak-up;  one a free man, murdered because he dared to speak-up.

What Does FREEDOM Mean To Me?

Freedom means that not only do I have the RIGHT to advocate for fairness and justice ~ I have a RESPONSIBILITY to do so!

When I speak-up, my Grandfathers and all the other Ancestors who sacrificed that I might know FREEDOM, are assured their sacrifice was not in vein.

My community advocacy says, that I REFUSE to shame their memory and FREEDOM gift with complacency and idleness.

There are MANY days I am startled, saddened and angered by the reality of just how fragile our civil liberties are in this Democracy we live in.

When Congressman John Lewis can be spat upon and called nigger in 2010 Washington, DC  — something is WRONG. When discrimination can be passed into law in 2010 Arizona — something is WRONG. When “Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell” is still being debated on Capital Hill in 2010 – something is WRONG.

I’m honest in saying I’ve lost patience with prejudice and resent having to burden my children with the skill of navigating around its constant presence.

And for the record, I am completely comfortable with my ability to make folks [begrudgingly] shed their blinders — if even temporarily — to see that there is more to living up to the premise of equality than just speaking it.

No you will not find silence here. No, you will not be able to take comfort in my complacency. No, I will not allow you to make me invisible or my considerations unimportant.

I have the right — the FREEDOM — to demand as much from society as it demands of me.

To answer the blogger’s question ~ What does diversity matter?

EVERYTHING when you live in a culture that doesn’t offer it freely. EVERYTHING when to abide by it laws must be passed, sanctions invoked. EVERYTHING when as a consequence of silence and diminished action, one witnesses the very liberties her Ancestors have fought and died for, fade away.

Diversity, as does FREEDOM matters because there are those who believe it doesn’t matter. There are those that don’t face the challenge of its lack — DAILY, as I do.

So long as these people have a voice (or blog), God willing, so will I.

~ Luckie.
FreedomTweet2010 Blog | Twitter.com/Juneteenth2010

As most of you know {by way of Tweetville}, Sandra, Bernard and I took to the road early yesterday morning heading I-20 East — destination Greensboro (Greene Co.) and Washington (Wilkes Co.), the small, historic country towns many of our Ancestors called home.

Greene and Washington-Wilkes are neighboring counties, and typically my journey home entails a stroll through Greensboro’s historic Main Street.

This was San’s first visit to Greene County and I was happy to be with she and Bernard, riding around finding our way.

I had told San the night before that it’s customary in small towns to chat with folks when seeking information. After establishing YOUR connection to the land –addressed by telling them who your people are/were– you can usually feel free to ask questions. Needless to say, San was less than enthusiastic about this approach but being the opinionated, vocal Sister-Cousin-Friend I am, I commented that it would be a shame to travel all that way and miss an opportunity to connect because it wasn’t “her way” and left it at that.

Downtown Greensboro was as beautiful as always! Weather-wise the day could not have been any more perfect! After we spotted a group of older gentlemen talking and made their acquaintance, our afternoon took an interesting turn!

It’s really San’s story to tell {I Never Knew My Father} so I’ll let her pick-up from here! I was just blessed to be there!:-)

So, after our Greene County adventure, we were off to Washington-Wilkes, my TRUE Georgia roots!

Funny thing about home is that it’s HOME –you don’t feel like a visitor– so your camera really doesn’t come out and you don’t necessarily pay attention to the historic landmarks that many travel there to see.

We enjoyed a tasty lunch (and a homemade rice crispy treat!:-) at the cozy Talk of the Town Cafe, a cool blend of coffee house, cafe and specialty boutique, located in the heart of Washington’s Public Square. I picked up the DVD – A Narrative of Wilkes County, Georgia that features interviews with several of Washington’s 70+ year old natives.

I spent time at the Washington Historical Museum with Curator Stephanie Macchia, chatting about her FAVER/FAVOR lineage and WINGFIELD home. There I found a book I’ve wanted a LONG time — The African American Experience: Education in Wilkes County, Georgia from 1922 to 1970 by Kay FINNELL.

As always, I could have spent hours in the Museum, just walking and taking in all the history!

I was fascinated by the 20 or so authentic Slave Deeds on display and two Ku Klux Klan robes from the late 1800s in a display not too far away.

Equally as intriguing, scanned images of slave inventories listing some 400+ slave names from the North Carolina plantations of Stephanie’s Ancestors! These should be on their way to me today and will be transcribed for posting on A Friend of Friends!:-)

On the top of my list will be a visit where I can stay a few days to spend time researching and visiting the Wingfield properties with Stephanie!

My visit ended with a quick stop to hug my best Wilkes buddy, Vernon Anthony (Tight). Tight is homegrown and one of the smartest business men I know! After he extended a fishing invite to Bernard and I teased him about his favorite past-time of hunting poor innocent deer, we headed back to Atlanta.

I napped all the way home, feeling exhausted and at peace.

It was a perfect day in every way and a trip that this girl needed. To touch the land that my Ancestors lived, loved, loss and survived on did me a world of good!

I’ll be making the trip more often for sure.

As promised, enjoy the slide-show!:-) ~ Luckie.

It was only after the 1981 passing of my Great Grandmother,  Annie CARTER JACKSON (1898-1981), that I came to understand the depth of her presence in our family — she was truly the glue that held everyone and everything in place.

Grandma Jackson was everything a Grandmother should be ~ patient, wise, sweet and nurturing. Part of the reason I’ve been challenged in the quest to overcome my java-habit, is because as a child, Grandma Jackson would prepare me a very weak cup of hot tea with milk to make me think I was sharing a cup of coffee with her!

To this day, when I need comfort, I retreat to a cup of coffee and it pulls me back to a time when life was much simpler and I was surrounded by a clan of loving women.

Grandma Jackson was also known for her infamous Washington-Wilkes sayings, that though funny on the surface, carried very true meanings.  Ironic how I still find myself quoting these in my daily life! My favorite Annie Saying is  “A cow will need his tail to fan flies for more than one summer.”, which meant –  don’t worry if someone does you wrong, they will soon need you again!

I can still remember Grandma’s long silver hair that she allowed me to style endlessly, hanging clothes on the line in her backyard in one of her favorite house-coats, wrapping her hand around my neck, with her tongue between her teeth, to braid my hair and bathing a tiny me in her kitchen sink.

The hymns she hummed constantly — at the most unexpected times — flow from my mouth to remind me that she is not far away. That I am still her special girl. I’ll Fly Away was her favorite:

One bright morning when this life is over,
I’ll fly away, Oh Glory
I’ll fly away; (in the morning)
Oh when I die, Hallelujah, by and by,
I’ll fly away (I’ll fly away)

Grandma Jackson crossed over on 10 July 1981, just three days after my 15th birthday.

I am blessed to have had Annie Carter Jackson with me, and grateful for her influence, as it is a key motivator for how as a woman, I live my life.

I miss you dearly and hope that I have made you proud Grandma.

Love,

Luckie (aka little Dona)

[Note: The featured image of Grandma was a candid shot snapped by her Son, the late Rev. Ronald Jackson, on one of our frequent Family fishing trips!:-]

Sallie WINGFIELD {d. 1970}, my 4th Great Aunt, Daughter of James and Catie [Dickey] WINGFIELD.

This image was also taken at Rensler’s Photography Studio in Cincinnati, Ohio abt the year 1930, along with the images of Aunt Daisy DORSEY JACKSON (Sallie’s younger Sister) and Grandma Catie.

I am heading to Cincinnati this weekend to pick up my first round of Rensler’s glass plate negatives!

Wish me luck!:-)

Luckie.

Most of you don’t know that I am in the process of purchasing 150 glass-plate negatives from the historic Rensler’s Photography Studio in Cincinnati, Ohio.

Rensler’s opened its doors in the early 1900’s and closed-up shop in 1989. With the closing of the family-owned studio, thousands of historic images and/or glass-plate negatives were sold.

Many named images with associated records, from the years 1950-1989, went to Cincinnati Historical Society. These images live in storage, uncatalogued and totally unavailable to the community.

Thousands of unidentified images, pre-1950, were sold to Cincinnati locals and I am working with two of these gentlemen to identify and purchase 150 African-American Rensler images from the earliest years through 1950.

Why do I care? Aside from having a soft-spot for unnamed Ancestors, my Georgia and Alabama lines intersected in Cincinnati by way of my Maternal Grandparents, Fannie Louella JACKSON and William Charles BARWICK.

At the time, Rensler’s was one of the few studios willing to photograph African-American people, so over the years my family often turned to the studio to capture special moments. My cherished 1930 Catie WINGFIELD DORSEY Rensler image allowed me to see my 4th Grandmother for the first time.

This image of Catie was taken on a family trip from Atlanta to Cincinnati and was intended to give my 3rd Grandmother, Marrie WINGFIELD REYNOLDS, who was terminally ill, an opportunity to see her Daughters and Grandchildren for the last time.

The BARWICK siblings original Rensler images from the late 1930s are my prized possession!

Yes, I’m hoping my purchase of the unknown, will reveal more of my missing family to me. However, should I receive 150 Ancestors with no ancestral connection to me, I will be just as content.

I will believe whoever comes to me was intended to and I will honor them by sharing them with the genealogy community in the hope they can be identified and eventually returned to their loved one.

We shall see what happens… I am uber-excited to say the least!

I’ll also keep you updated on the larger effort underway by me and a few Genea-Friends, to preserve the several thousand remaining glass-plate negatives.

A descendants work is never done…

Luckie.

With all of the Ancestral Reverance in the air these days, I do believe it’s time for me to replace the headstone that disappeared from Grandma Catie’s final resting place in Lincoln Memorial Cemetery, Atlanta, GA.

Can anyone advise on how to locate a grave that does not appear on the Cemetery registry?

Grandma Catie passed in 1933.

Lest we forget…

Luckie.

[Image Source: Find A Grave, Contributor: Cherye Fogg Baldwin Linzer]

A few nights ago, my big Sister Gina called to inform me that my Niece Jasmine would soon be visiting Jamestown, Virginia as a part of a class fieldtrip.

Gina wanted to pass on to Jazzy’s teacher, our family’s direct link to Jamestown. Hmmm…

To date, I have not set a foot on Jamestown soil. Knowing the history of the Jamestown 20 alone, I’ve wrestled over the years with the need I feel to take in the experience, the history vs. the DEEP resentment I feel from knowing that for my/our African Ancestors, this is where it all is said to have begun on a August day in 1619.

But I think I am starting to see the error in my logic — I have been wrong.

Jamestown, Virginia is in many respects our U.S. incarnation of the Ivory Coast’s Door of No Return. It marked the beginning of a journey, that would bring unforeseen suffering to not only our Ancestors, but their descendants, for MANY generations to come.

The Jamestowne Colony was the root of Slavery’s tree… the various slave ports, its branches.

I have never taken any particular pride in the fact that the WINGFIELD clan who migrated to Washington-Wilkes (by way of Virginia) and owned my Ancestors, were descendants of Edward Maria WINGFIELD — Jamestown’s first President. Is it possible knowing of the WINGFIELD-Jamestown connection has made me even more biased towards visiting the colony?

Seeing this image of African Ancestors in 1850 being Baptized in the James River makes me want to travel there to pour Libation for every Ancestor and their descendants who’ve walked that soil since arriving in 1619.

It began with 20, ended with having indentured well over 400 thousand and has impacted uncalculated millions.

I will visit — soon. At the least, I owe them that…

I pay homage to the Jamestown 20.

Luckie.

 [Image Source:  LIFE - Baptist congregation members during baptismal ceremony in the James River; VA, US 1850]

Madison Derrelle CODY & Fannie CARR CODY, the last CODY owners of Catie DICKEY WINGFIELD {abt. 1850-1933}

Luckie.

[Image Source: Find A Grave, Southview Cemetery, Newton County, GA]

Apologies for my tardy Madness Monday entry — I spent the afternoon with Mom & kids eating, window shopping &  just enjoying being together.

The above image was a part of the 100+ images returned to the WINGFIELD Family by Mingo WINGFIELD’S former neighbor, Annie HALL in Washington, Georgia.

After Mingo’s home was gutted, Ms. Hall held the images 35+ years until they could be rightly given to a Family member — my Cousin, Malinda CROSS!

For some reason the portrait of this family has always resonated with me. For a very long time the people in the image were unknown, but recently Malinda left me this note in the OGR Picasa Ancestor Image Gallery:

I am glad to provide you with the identity the female in this photo. Mingo’s daughter, Frances, was able to identify her as her mother Sarah COHEN (Mingo J. Wingfield’s second wife) in her younger years. Although there is no knowledge of a prior marriage, this looks to be a family photo. Sara did have an older son named Wembert. I “think” he could be the older of the two boys. I will do more research to find out more about the mystery “family”.

Unfortunately, most of the images returned to Malinda were unmarked, which in itself is MADDENING! I pray that one day ALL the identities of these Ancestors are known.

Luckie.

I REALLY had to think long & hard about broaching the matter of reparations here at the OGR blog.

The concern? My unconfirmed belief that the word reparation strikes fear and/or anxiety in the listener or reader – prompting him to switch on his mental *mute* button. In my head, I can see this person {head tossed back; eyes rolling} asking, “Reparations?! Are we STILL talking about that?!”.

Well, hey, at least I’m honest!:-)

However my responsibility to my Ancestors goes beyond digging-up roots & connecting the family dots. My accountability includes expressing what my Ancestors did not, & in most instances – could not.

Funny, this is actually the second time this week reparations has been the topic of my conversation! I hope the insightful Gal I had that chat with, will contribute here. She offered a new perspective that left me seeing the matter a bit differently. It’s amazing what clear, open dialogue can do!:-)

So when Renate of  “Just Thinking…” responded to my Freedom post of yesterday with the following comment, I knew immediately what my next post HAD to be:

This is why I believe, to a degree at least, in African-Americans right to reparations. Yes, I know it’s a delicate subject, and if carried out, there would be lots of things to consider, and yes, it would be tricky to determine who deserves to get what and why. However, when I see laws like this, I’m reminded that so many of our ancestors were HELD BACK, and not allowed to better their circumstances, even if they had the means to do so. Not only that, but I believe there is a link between the type of work that our ancestors were forced to do, and the debilitating and life-ending diseases that are found so disproportionately in the Black Community.

To speak to Renate’s comment, I must admit – I wholeheartedly agree.

In 1885, my 4th Grandmother Catie was pregnant with my Uncle Elbert WINGFIELD when my Grandfather, James WINGFIELD, was lynched in Washington-Wilkes.

She was a housewife, with 4 other children at home.  A farmer, James was lynched after he received a return on his crops. As told to me by her Grandson Elbert STRINGER, Catie was not permitted to question what had been done to my Grandfather or to even grieve in public — she had to move on as if nothing in her life had changed.

Pregnant, with small children at home & dealing with the loss of her husband — the only family income source, what did Catie do? I often wonder how my family makeup would look today had that event not taken place?

How many ENDLESS stories are there like Catie’s [or worse] in my family history & that of other African-Ancestored people?

I agree with Renate that reparations is a “delicate” conversation to have, but a necessary one nonetheless.

The U.S. Chattel System was a Government sponsored/supported institution. There should be accountability & some measure of restitution made for its impact to African-American families & culture.

Do I think this will ever happen? Unfortunately – NO. The bias with which this issue has been treated publicly is appalling. If there is a “rug” then reparations for African-American people has long since been “swept” under it.

Some of my readers & friends may take offense {really, it is not my intention}, but I must say when I witness the ongoing punishment of Michael Vick or Chris Brown — two men who without question, made VERY big mistakes – I am reminded of the hypocrisy this Country can be guilty of.

Two guilty men who have made restitution, in countless ways, for their wrongdoing to another human being and animals, find themselves still being punished by society & subjected to the reprimands of the law, while a Country whose wrongdoing exceeds their actions a million times over, feels no accountability beyond a begruding Senate apology, for the sins & trangressions it’s committed against MILLIONS of families.

Something is VERY wrong with this picture!

And bless God that even if my Catie could not voice it in 1885, today in 2009 her Great Great Great Granddaughter, Dona Amechia, sure can!

Luckie.

DISCLAIMER: If you choose to comment to this post, I ask that you please be respectful, cool & as objective as possible. Open dialogue is welcomed but let’s remember - we are all part of the same Tribe here – GeneaHolics!:-)