Most of you don’t know, but probably could easily guess, that at one time in my life (or past lives!:-), I was a Community Advocate.

For 13 years, on both a professional and volunteer basis, I worked with most every “at risk” population there is, advocating on their behalf. From the teen mother, to the homeless, to the abused, to those challenged by HIV/AIDS — I worked, fighting for those who could not fight for themselves.

Although I traded my community savior hat in some 10+ years ago, the inability to ignore injustice and/or wrongdoing still holds me. Never in my life have I been able to turn away when I’ve seen wrong being done. Never.

As you read yesterday, over the past 2 months I have personally been challenged by a situation occurring within this community. A situation that I did everything I knew to manage; a situation that I did everything I knew — as challenging as it was — to be respectful of the other person involved.

There were those who knew what was happening, that said nothing and opted not to get involved for fear that the person would turn attention on him and/or her.

In lieu of swift, zero tolerance type actions, that could have put this issue to rest a lot sooner, there was quiet, behind the scenes support offered to me. No one — other than me — addressed the inappropriate and personally violating behavior that was happening.

That is wrong. Dead wrong.

Hugo Alfredo Tale-Yax, a homeless man in Queens, NY recently died on the street after coming to the aid of a woman being attacked. As he laid on the street bleeding to death from stab wounds, some 25 people walked by — one even stopping to lift his body — and kept going. By the time medics arrived, some hour or more later, it was too late.

Explain to me how anybody could see a person suffering to this extent and not at the very least feel the responsibility to call the EMS or police?

Dorothy Height President of the NCNW, leader in the Civil Rights Movement and a LIFETIME  community activist for the rights of ALL people, passed away last week at 98 years old.

Who will take Dorothy Height’s baton now? Who can fill the void her transition has left in not only the NCNW, but the black community as a whole?

Are we willing to do it or will we continue to look for the “somebody” who’s responsible for addressing wrong, fighting for the less fortunate and challenging the status quo?

Yes, I am a community advocate — always have been and always will be. I can accept that this is just who I am.

But do not think you bear no responsibility for standing with me. Do not think that you have no accountability for addressing injustice when you witness it. Don’t be upset when I am deemed “the leader” by default because no one else chooses to speak out other than me.

And make no mistake, this is NOT a black or white issue — it’s a community issue.

Big or small, virtual or real-world, black or white — where is our accountability to one another? Where is our accountability to community?

I think you know you can count on me to stand up for what’s right. You have my word that I will stand with you in the face of wrongdoing.

But will you do the same for me and others when the time comes and the situation warrants it?

That’s the question.

Luckie.

Well Friends, this is not a post I’ve been looking forward to writing. As a matter of fact, I’ve put the task off the entire day — wishing that the issues prompting it, would somehow magically disappear.

But alas, they have not and being the kind of gal to face matters head-on, here goes it…

For the past two months, I have attempted to privately manage an issue, with a fellow genea-community member (who at this time will remain unnamed), that has escalated from a difference of opinion to ongoing harassment and violation of my privacy on the part of the respective community member.

My initial request was simple — following a series of events, having realized this is not a person I desired to associate with, I requested that the community member discontinue any future contact with me.

For me, this issue could have — should have — ended there. Within a community, people with differing opinions can coexist and as adults, respecting another person’s boundaries should not be a challenge.

Sadly, this has not been the case. This person has continued to seek various ways to not only be in contact with me, but to impact my life directly. From contacting people in my personal circle requesting they relay messages, to shadowing my movements and/or interactions within the genealogy space, to attempting discussions pertaining to me with members in the broader community. The actions have been non-stop and deliberately invasive.

When random methods to prompt a verbal response from me fail, the community member contacts me directly, completely ignoring my repeated requests to not do so.

The community member’s actions have escalated, most times appearing very manic, unpredictable and desperate. I have no idea why this person has attached to me, a virtual stranger, or what he/she hopes to accomplish, as I have done nothing to prevent interaction with the GeneaBlogger community as a whole. I’ve simply prevented this person from having direct contact with me.

That said, today I contacted local Atlanta authorities to make them aware of this person’s actions, and provided a very extensive paper/digital trail to support my concerns.

Here’s what the person in question should be CRYSTAL CLEAR on:

1. My tolerance/patience with you has run-out. I do not wish you any harm, but likewise, I will not allow you to inflict any on me and/or the people I care about.
2. I will no longer protect your privacy. This is the last time you will be addressed anonymously by me.
3. Any continued actions on your part to harm me — in any manner — will result in immediate legal action and full disclosure to the GeneaBlogger community of the extent of your harassment leading up to today.

To the GeneaBlogger community, I will confess that in the 12+ years I’ve worked and played in the online space, this is a first. It is a reminder that not everyone has the same motive as you when engaging online and that caution should always be a part of our interactions with strangers.

Be careful and follow your instincts. Pay attention and when something just doesn’t feel right — trust it.

Know that I am well, safe and happy. I am too stubborn to ALLOW anyone to dump their misery on me and will spare no effort to protect the life I’ve worked so hard to have.

In other words (to the community member in question), this is the time to let go and move on.

May life flow with ease for us all.

Luckie.

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.

As of late I’ve been in contact with my Father, Don Ameche. It’s been a long time, hard to believe some 28 years.

I am thankful that the peace and open-heart I thought I had in respect to my Father was real. So happy it wasn’t just lip service and/or the words of a wounded child trying to convince herself that she’s healed and moved on.

My Father is flawed — just like me. He’s gotten some things in life wrong — just like me.  He’s gotten some things right too — just like me. He just happens to be my Father and as I’ve learned from close to 29 years of parenting, there is no blue-print for this life-journey.

If you’re lucky, you have someone to show you the way — which I did, several of them — and you accept your God-given responsibility by doing the best you know how. And when you don’t know, you ask God to show you. And when you miss the mark (which you will), you ask forgiveness from those you’ve wounded and move forward.

My treasure today is the tranquility and peace that has somehow found its way into the heart of a girl who I once considered the walking wounded.

It doesn’t make me and/or life perfect — I’m still struggling with the realities of Mom’s condition, still worried about the future my children will have, and though damn good (smile), still trying to figure out how to be a better Mother, Daughter, Sister, Aunt and Friend to those I love most.

No, tranquility and peace doesn’t make life perfect but it sure as heck makes it more livable. Thankful for the spiritual exhale…

Happy Earth Day to you. Love your Mother!:-)

Luckie.

I was saddened today to hear of the passing of Civil and Human Rights Trailblazer, Dr. Dorothy Height at the blessed age of 98 years old.

For at least the past 20 years, Dr. Height’s influence has been a guiding light personally for my older Sister, Gina. Her name, always spoken with respect and reference, has throughout the years been a part of many of our conversations. Her example and leadership unmatched in the fight for civil rights and equality.

Gina wrote today:

Late activist C. DeLores Tucker: ‘Dorothy Height is the queen’ of the civil rights movement. How blessed I was to know her.  Dr. Height your labor was not in vain.  We must pick up the mantel and continue the fight!

In May 2008, my oldest Sister Ingrid and I traveled to DC to attend a Luncheon coordinated by Gina (on right, wearing white), in honor of Dr. Height. These images are from that event.

No tombstone today, this is Triumphant Tuesday. Without question Dr. Height is resting in peace ~ her work done, her example laid. The rest remains with us.

Luckie.

Newana & Marcia ~ my Big Sisters! And for the first time in my LIFE, I don’t mind being the “baby sister”! Nope. Not one bit!:-)

Jai, Mom and I are all 3, creatures of habit. Born under the Sun Sign of Cancer (July) and within the same week — 3rd, 6th and 7th respectively, true to cancerian form, we are [most] comfortable repeating the same rituals over and over again!

My favorite shared ritual is our Saturday AM quality time when, after dropping Justis off at Rockers Heaven, we head to Caribou Coffee, where we have the first caffeine of the morning and share a piece (or two) of delicious, blueberry coffee cake!

As Mom’s condition progresses, I’m unsure of how much longer this special outing will continue, but as for now, I’m just thankful that we have it.

It’s a special memory I’ll be able to share with Jaiya and Mom in the years to come.

Carpe diem.

Luckie.

[Note: how cool is it that today's Sentimental Sunday marks my 200th OGR post!:-]

I have a somewhat funny, somewhat sad, but 100% true story to share with you about this Family Collage.

When my now 10 yr old Justis was 4 and attending pre-school, he was given an assignment to make a collage of his family images.

We spread a bunch of pics out on our kitchen table and allowed Justis to pick his favorites. After he made his choices, we scanned the images, trimmed them to size and glued them in place. We were thrilled with the results and SUPER-excited to share Justis’ collage with his classmates the next day.

When it was time for school pick-up the following afternoon, I noticed that Justis was unusually quiet. After some prodding from me, Justis shared that a classmate had asked him about his “white Grandfather” featured in the collage and informed Justis that to “make things right”, they should trade Grandpas!

You see, the classmate was white, and his Grandmother had married an African-American man, thus becoming his Grandpa. In his mind, as he told Justis, they should “swap” Grandpas and each would now have one that  “matched” because that was the way things were supposed to be, right?

This was THE DAY my Justis had to be educated about race — and encouraged to continue looking beyond color to see the heart of his Papa (Paternal Grandfather), who for the record, in spite of his fair skin, blue eyes and white hair, was of Haitian (French) decent.

As comical as I thought this situation was (my Ex failed to see the humor!:-), in truth it was pretty sad at the core.

How do kids realize differences and unfortunately begin to accept stereotypes and cultural influences? How did we (adults) learn this behavior? That’s right, from our parents and those around us — racial bias and prejudice are learned behaviors.

Re-reading my CoAAG blog post, “What’s That, White Folks Have Grandmas Too?!” and a subsequent comment reminded me, yet again, how sensitive the issue of race is and how in spite of BEST efforts, this pseudo-barrier continues to impede our interacting, sharing, learning and growing with one another.

Like Lennon, I too am a dreamer. Both Justis and I listen to the lyrics of Imagine often and quiet as it’s kept — I’m still hoping for the day when folks will live as one, even if I am not here to experience it.

I imagine it would be really cool to be a pre-Collage 4 yr old Justis, who only knew 3 distinctions for people — peach folks, tan folks and brown folks and the beauty of this — until that day, he thought they ALL were pretty cool and of the same race.

IMAGINE.

Luckie.

Interesting that as I began to pen my memories of Fannie Louella JACKSON BARWICK {1920 – 1992}, my beloved Maternal Grandmother, Stevie Wonder’s rendition of Bridge Over Troubled Water began to play.

My Lord, without a doubt there is no single person who had a greater impact on my life than Anbownes. There is no person’s absence, that I miss more.

She was a firm, honest, no-nonsense straight-shooter. She was everything you dislike as a child and everything you come to respect and admire as an adult.

She was the personification of honor. People spoke [and speak] of her with reverence.

My Grandmother was regal in appearance, always impeccably dressed, with the most beautiful, pecan hued hands and fingernails I’ve ever seen. There are moments when I seem to catch a hint of her gardenia scent. There are MANY days when I miss the sound of her deep, husky voice singed from many years of smoking.

Her love and loyalty were the rock we all –especially my Mom– held on to and truth be told, Mom started leaving us the day Anbownes transitioned.

I know now, what I didn’t quite understand then… watching a good Mother leave you is the hardest life challenge any child will face. It is impossible to sustain this kind of separation (not loss) and not be permanently changed.

By example, Anbownes and Mom taught a scared (and clueless) child how to Mother her Son. And though hurt by my circumstance, she never faltered in support. Because she stood by me, I am the woman I am today.

Once during her daily bath, she told me that if she were a millionaire, she could not have had better care. Those words comfort me now. I know without a doubt, she knew that I loved her.

I was with Anbownes to the very end, standing beside her when she transitioned.  And when she “went home”, I began a new journey — across a bridge — to become a me that I could be proud of; a me that was more like her.

When you’re weary
Feeling small
When tears are in your eyes
I will dry them all

I’m on your side
When times get rough
And friends just can’t be found
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down
Like a bridge over troubled water
I will lay me down

In honor of Fannie Louella Jackson Barwick, Anbownes, my bridge over troubled water — both then and now.

I love you.

Luckie.

P.S. Bownes, how am I doin’?!:-)

[Image source: Fannie Jackson age 18 yrs old ~ 1938]

Like many in the Geneablogger community, with the approach of the Grandma’s Hand CoAAG, I’ve been carried away this week with many fond memories of the 3 Grandmothers who had such a HUGE impact on my life — Annie, Lena and Fannie.

In my heart, I’d committed to not write about my Paternal Grandmother, Lovella COBB DANIELS {1919 – 2005}.

Given that I’d never really known Chick (her nickname), my thought was that I had nothing to contribute. But, I was wrong — her absence has influenced my life and it bears acknowledgment.

I can only recall seeing my Grandmother twice in my life — both occasions complete flukes. I was 16 and 17 years old respectively, and both meetings carried the same message — Chick was not comfortable with my presence. She was cordial, but very distant and brief.

Then in 1995 I returned to Cincinnati and made a deliberate attempt to reconnect with Chick and my Father, Don Ameche. He was responsive, a you’ve read in my 7 Letters From My Father post. Chick however sent the message that too much time had passed — it was “best to let things be”.

For me that was the end. I never made any further attempt to contact her.

When she passed in 2005, I received the message by way of my Family in Cincinnati and though I’d lost a Grandmother, I had no grief… no anger either, just no emotion.

And frankly, I’d rarely thought of Lovella Daniels at all, until in 2008 I was “gifted” with the family bible that belonged to her and my Great Grandmother, Myrtle Cobb.

This bible has given me something she could not find the will or strength to do while here — a part of her. Because of it I know that she was a God-fearing woman. There are handwritten prayers and scriptures throughout its pages. There are notes about honoring her Pastor’s birthday. There are acknowledgments, by way of child-written cards, that she was a loved Aunt and Grandmother.

Wow. Somewhere in Lovella Cobb Daniels love existed and I believe she and/or God would not allow me to continue living believing she had existed without a heart.

Also because of the family bible received from a complete stranger, I was blessed to learn of my COBB lineage — 4+ generations deep AND the biggest gift — the notation of my [unknown] siblings names!

It’s taken me some time to find the nerve to connect with my newly found siblings, but last night, via Facebook (yes, Facebook!) I chatted with my Sister, “M” for quite awhile and guess what, found out about more siblings!:-)

Who knows what the future will hold? I pray it brings my new sisters and brothers fully into my life. I have more than enough room to love them!:-)

Could it be my Grandmother is behind these coincidental occurrences that are quietly mending the part of my heart that’s been void? Afterall, it is HER bible and Cobb lineage that I am learning of.  And, it is because of her entries that I came to know of my siblings.

Unless someone can prove otherwise, I’m going to believe that my Grandmother Lovella is gifting me from Heaven with what she knows is most important to me — family and Ancestry.

Maybe whatever grieved her on earth has been healed now, and she’s decided to pass it on. Yep, that works for me…

Here’s to the future and healing… thank goodness we never get too old to experience it.

Luckie.