Wonderful essay on family history. I’m glad that we have moved past the black/white thing in so many ways, and yet, it’s when I read your wonderful pieces that I’m even more saddened and perplexed by all the strife and discontent we have been experiencing recently. I keep hoping that interracial marriages will solve some of those problems. We’re all humans, and we’re in this together.
Here’s to hoping for better relationships, some peace, understanding and good will in the coming year.
Here! here! Once again, you have won the comment of the week award/smile. I do believe people should be free to embrace and love all family members. How inhumane is it to create a wall of concrete between one's black father and cousins versus one's white husband and in-laws? That two like-appearing cousins who bear the same name would never know one another because of racial prejudice?
I was once on a Southwest flight from Las Vegas to San Diego. I sat beside a young white student who looked Bohemian, crazy hair like Albert Einstein or a hippie in Greenwich Village. We struck up a conversation. He shared that he was an engineering student at Stanford. He was reading a journal/diary with great intensity. I asked what was he reading.
He said, he had just discovered his grandfather, a doctor, was a black graduate of Howard Medical School. Grandfather never told his family about his racial origins. He cut off contact with his black family. But he kept a secret diary about his real boyhood and childhood. He passed away and his family discovered Grandfather was black all along. The grandson was readjusting his sense of self in real time.
This story is familiar. I always felt very lucky growing up with maternal grandparents that were very different from many in that generation when it came to race. I remember my grandfather talking about the days when there were separate train cars, and how on one trip they boarded the "black car" and everyone had brought food and they were sharing with my grandparents until a porter told them they had to move to the "white car." I also heard stories about how my grandfather, an insurance agent, was able to keep his black clients covered during tough times by borrowing from Peter to pay Paul. The lightbulb did not start to go on until my younger sister did a DNA test. I followed up with my own test and then started delving into the genealogy. Eventually the family history came out and I was even told how my grandfather would, in the privacy of the home, refer to my grandmother as his black wife, and how she would get mad. Likely she was worried the walls had ears. My great-grandfather, the father of my maternal grandmother, was from Grand Cayman. I was always told he was from "England" and the rest was a big haze. The light-skinned William Irvin Jackson sailed up from GC in the sailboat he built around the turn of the 20th century. He started out in or around Biloxi and transported tabasco sauce up and down the intercoastal for the Mcilhenney Co. He eventually settled in Mobile and opened a sail loft. Family lore has it that he was commissioned one year to fabricate a set of sails for the USS Constitution. When the demand for sails started falling, be adapted and began fabricating awnings. I have since learned the fascinating history of GC and my shipbuilding and turtling ancestors.
Thank you for the nice compliment. People who like reading about life without filters will be attracted to my writing over time.
Wonderful essay on family history. I’m glad that we have moved past the black/white thing in so many ways, and yet, it’s when I read your wonderful pieces that I’m even more saddened and perplexed by all the strife and discontent we have been experiencing recently. I keep hoping that interracial marriages will solve some of those problems. We’re all humans, and we’re in this together.
Here’s to hoping for better relationships, some peace, understanding and good will in the coming year.
Here! here! Once again, you have won the comment of the week award/smile. I do believe people should be free to embrace and love all family members. How inhumane is it to create a wall of concrete between one's black father and cousins versus one's white husband and in-laws? That two like-appearing cousins who bear the same name would never know one another because of racial prejudice?
I was once on a Southwest flight from Las Vegas to San Diego. I sat beside a young white student who looked Bohemian, crazy hair like Albert Einstein or a hippie in Greenwich Village. We struck up a conversation. He shared that he was an engineering student at Stanford. He was reading a journal/diary with great intensity. I asked what was he reading.
He said, he had just discovered his grandfather, a doctor, was a black graduate of Howard Medical School. Grandfather never told his family about his racial origins. He cut off contact with his black family. But he kept a secret diary about his real boyhood and childhood. He passed away and his family discovered Grandfather was black all along. The grandson was readjusting his sense of self in real time.
Stories from life....
You deserve a lot more readers. I hope your subscribers grow in numbers because you are a real gem.
This story is familiar. I always felt very lucky growing up with maternal grandparents that were very different from many in that generation when it came to race. I remember my grandfather talking about the days when there were separate train cars, and how on one trip they boarded the "black car" and everyone had brought food and they were sharing with my grandparents until a porter told them they had to move to the "white car." I also heard stories about how my grandfather, an insurance agent, was able to keep his black clients covered during tough times by borrowing from Peter to pay Paul. The lightbulb did not start to go on until my younger sister did a DNA test. I followed up with my own test and then started delving into the genealogy. Eventually the family history came out and I was even told how my grandfather would, in the privacy of the home, refer to my grandmother as his black wife, and how she would get mad. Likely she was worried the walls had ears. My great-grandfather, the father of my maternal grandmother, was from Grand Cayman. I was always told he was from "England" and the rest was a big haze. The light-skinned William Irvin Jackson sailed up from GC in the sailboat he built around the turn of the 20th century. He started out in or around Biloxi and transported tabasco sauce up and down the intercoastal for the Mcilhenney Co. He eventually settled in Mobile and opened a sail loft. Family lore has it that he was commissioned one year to fabricate a set of sails for the USS Constitution. When the demand for sails started falling, be adapted and began fabricating awnings. I have since learned the fascinating history of GC and my shipbuilding and turtling ancestors.
Wow! This is an amazing story. I love reading these types of stories. Thanks for adding to my knowledge base/smile.