Wednesday, February 5, 2025

Prof. Walter I. Lewis, Journalist

Photograph of Walter I. Lewis

College and university records are great resources for family history research. These include yearbooks, catalogs, school newspapers, funeral programs, photographs, and documents donated by families.

Several men in my family attended Biddle University, which became Johnson C. Smith University, an HBCU in Charlotte, N.C. Biddle’s catalogs are digitized and are online at DigitalNC, and I love exploring them because they list the names of students, their hometowns, and their majors. I often get side-tracked and find myself tumbling down rabbit holes researching people who are not related to me but are possibly related to people I know. For example, the 1903-1904 catalog, includes several students from Darien, Georgia – Frank Atkins Brown, Hector Charles Miller, David Andrew Rogers, Hercules Wilson Jr., and Harry Wilson Leake. An older catalog, the 1897-1898 edition, includes Benjamin Monroe Grant of Darien.

In the back pages of the catalogs are lists of alumni, including their cities of residence after graduation and their occupations. Most graduates became ministers or teachers, but some became doctors, mail carriers, merchants, printers, farmers, brick masons, missionaries, and Pullman porters.

South Carolina native Walter I. Lewis, who graduated from Biddle University in the class of 1877, was listed as a news reporter in Jacksonville, Fla. This caught my attention.

A Google search revealed that an essay by Lewis was included in a 1902 book titled Twentieth Century Negro Literature: Or A Cyclopedia of Thought on the Vital Topics Relating to the American Negro by 100 of America’s Greatest Negroes, edited by Daniel Wallace Culp. The book includes essays by many familiar people, including a Jacksonville native and school principal named James Weldon Johnson.

In Lewis’ essay, The Negro as a Writer, he wrote, “The writings of the Negro are full of soul. … The well nigh inexhaustible field of folk-lore of his own people is ready to be told to the world, whether in the crude dialect of the race, or in Americanized English, it matters little. It will make no difference. The English speaking people of both continents will read it if it is written by a master.”

According to Lewis’ bio in the book, he taught at a public school in Spartanburg, S.C., and at a parochial school in Tennessee, before switching to journalism. He was a field correspondent for The Florida Sentinel in Gainesville, the city editor for The Labor Union Recorder in Savannah, Georgia, and then he moved to Jacksonville, Florida, to work for The Jacksonville Advocate, The Daily American, and finally, as a reporter for The Metropolis, an evening newspaper that would become The Jacksonville Journal.

Sunday, July 28, 2024

"The Black Pearl"

When my grandparents wanted to visit the coast, they drove 200 miles from Kannapolis, N.C., in the Piedmont region of the state, to "The Black Pearl," also known as Atlantic Beach, S.C., just north of Myrtle Beach in the Lowcountry. 
"The Black Pearl" was part of the legacy of segregation and Jim Crow laws in America, a legacy that included other coastal destinations for Black folk such as American Beach on Amelia Island in Florida, Highland Beach in Maryland, and a resort community known as "The Ink Well," at Oak Bluffs Beach at Martha's Vineyard in Massachusetts. Gullah-Geechee communities on barrier islands were also popular places where African Americans could gather to enjoy the beach. Like many "Black beaches and resort communities," Atlantic Beach also was a stop on the Chitlin Circuit, and welcomed touring African American performers such as James Brown, Ray Charles, Otis Redding, Billie Holiday, and many more. The photo above is my maternal grandfather, Daniel George McCree (1918-2000), looking sharp at Atlantic Beach.


Courtesy of South Carolina Library, University of South Carolina, 
and the Town of Atlantic Beach, Fair use image.


Source: ETVRoadShow. Atlantic Beach. (Video). YouTube.


 Learn more:

  • Atlantic Beach. (2022). The Green Book of South Carolina. https://greenbookofsc.com/locations/atlantic-beach/
  • Bush, G. W. (2016). White sand black beach: Civil rights, public space, and Miami's Virginia Key. University Press of Florida.
  • Cruz, B., Berson, M., & Falls, D. (2012). Swimming not allowed: Teaching about segregated public beaches and pools. Social Studies, 103(6), 252-259.
  • Gibson, J. (2015). Atlantic Beach: Historic African-American Enclave in South Carolina. National Trust for Historica Preservation. https://savingplaces.org/stories/atlantic-beach-historic-african-american-enclave-in-south-carolina#.YkULLOhKjIU
  • Oglesby, C. (2022). How black beaches were developed to combat Jim Crow segregation. Eath Curiosity. https://earthincolor.co/earth-curiosity/how-black-beaches-were-developed-to-combat-jim-crow-segregation/#:~:text=In%20the%20South%2C%20Black%20beaches,entry%20for%20people%20of%20color.
  • John Skeeter's Documentary on Atlantic Beach, S.C. (2013). Prince Domoniquie on YouTube. https://youtu.be/oLb8LVV6w2o
  • Karhl, A. W. (2018). Free the beaches: The story of Ned Coll and the battle for America's most exclusive shoreline. Yale University Press.
  • Kahrl, A. W. (2016). The land was ours: How black beaches became white wealth in the coastal South. University of North Carolina Press.
  • King, H. T. (2021). Saving American Beach: The biography of African American environmentalist MaVynee Betsh. G.P. Putnam's Sons Books for Young Readers.
  • Phelts, M. D. (2010). An American Beach for African Americans. University Press of Florida.
  • Stephens, R. J. (2014). Atlantic Beach, South Carolina (1966- ). Black Past. https://www.blackpast.org/african-american-history/atlantic-beach-south-carolina-1966/
  • Stephenson, F. (2006). Chowan Beach: Remembering an African American resort. The History Press.
  • Town of Atlantic Beach, S.C. (n.d.). http://www.townofatlanticbeachsc.com/


Friday, March 31, 2023

Rev. Dr. Katie Geneva Cannon

Courtesy of the Katie Geneva Cannon Papers, Presbyterian Historical Society, Philadelphia PA

On this last day of Women’s History Month, I honor my cousin and kindred spirit, the Rev. Dr. Katie Geneva Cannon, shown in a collage featuring a photo of her from the 1970s and one of her works of art from 2000. 

Cousin Katie was the first African American woman to be ordained in the United Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.), the first African American woman to earn a Ph.D. at Union Theological Seminary, a renowned scholar, and a founder of the Center for Womanist Leadership. Her legacy includes many more honors and thought-provoking lectures, books, and articles. 

I never met Cousin Katie in person, but we corresponded, exchanging articles and sharing our deep admiration for our ancestor, Mary Nance Lytle, a strong-willed courageous woman who reclaimed her children who had been sold away during slavery.

Cousin Katie was born in Kannapolis, N.C., in 1950, and passed away in 2018. I regret I never got the chance to spend time with her and tell her how much I admired her.

The collage above is copyrighted and is used here with permission from the Presbyterian Historical Society in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Wednesday, March 8, 2023

Southern Tones and Southernaires


Second from left is Cousin James "Tunesy" Fletcher (1935-2012). He was a member of the Southern Tones of Philadelphia. Back in his hometown of Lancaster, S.C., he performed with the local group, Gospel Southernaires, along with his brothers, John Fletcher and Roosevelt Fletcher, who was the lead singer.

Sunday, January 8, 2023

George Lewis Russell, Sr.

George Lewis Russell Sr., first cousin, two times removed, was the first black Assistant Chief Clerk for the U.S. House of Representatives and served in that role for more than 17 years.  

He was the son of Joseph Samuel Russell (1886-1969) and Hattie McCauley (1887-1972). He was born in 1924 in Concord, Cabarrus County, N.C., and graduated from Logan High School in Concord and North Carolina A&T State University in Greensboro. He served in the U.S. Navy during World War II.

Cousin George died of a heart attack in 1991. Several members of Congress paid tribute to him, including Rep. Kweisi Mfume, (D-Md.), and Rep. Andrew Jacobs, Jr., (D-Ind.). This image from the Congressional Record is a tribute by Rep. Mervyn M. Dymally, (D-Calif.), on Oct. 10, 1991, in the U.S. House of Representatives. It reads:

“Mr. Speaker, I rise to pay tribute to a man that many considered to be a Capitol Hill institution. For 17 years George Lewis Russell, Sr., graced these hallowed halls, with a dignity and sense of dedication that made him a friend to all that were fortunate enough to be touched by him.

“In his position as the Assistant Chief Clerk to Reporters, the man we affectionately referred to as George literally had a front-row seat as we conducted the Nation’s business. Yes, Mr. Speaker, when my friends on the other side of the aisle were in the well giving speeches, that moment was shared by George who sat directly behind whoever was speaking.

“Mr. Speaker, aside from his duties here in the House of Representatives, George was a dedicated family man, active in his community, his church, and the affairs of his college, North Carolina A&T State University.

“Mr. Speaker, George Russell always went the extra mile to help individuals seeking employment and was always encouraging to members and staff.

“Unfortunately, there will not be any statues or buildings here on the Hill named after George Russell. However, we can all rest assured that this noble man will never be forgotten on Capitol Hill or in his community.”


 

Sources: 

 

Tribute by Rep. Kweisi Mfume, (D-Md.), Congressional Record, Oct. 8, 1991, p25753.

 

Tribute by Rep. Andrew Jacobs, Jr., (D-Ind.), Congressional Record, Oct. 9, 1991, p26001.

 

Tribute by Rep. Mervyn M. Dymally, (D-Calif.), Congressional Record, Extensions of Remarks, Oct. 10, 1991, p26199.

 

Obituaries, The Baltimore Sun, Oct. 8, 1991, p38.

Thursday, December 22, 2022

Lytle School Legacies


The new Lytle's Grove Rosenwald School, 1927 
I used to love tagging along with my mother on her field trips through the Carolinas to cemeteries and other sites related to our family history. One day we took a ride out to "the country" and made a few stops. We went to Columbus Chapel AME Zion in Davidson, N.C., to see if we could find the grave of my third-great-grandmother, Mary Nance Lytle. We didn't find it, and I doubt a headstone exists. Nevertheless, we paid our respects because we knew our ancestor 
was there somewhere.

Torrence-Lytle School
Torrence-Lytle High School
Another stop was Torrence-Lytle High School in Huntersville. The school was originally called Huntersville Colored School when it was founded in 1937, but the name was changed to Torrence-Lytle High School in 1953 to honor Mary Nancy Lytle's son, John Frank Lytle, and his long-time associate and friend, Isaac Dale L. "Ike" Torrence. Both men played instrumental roles in creating the school.

In the letter below, dated September 24, 1935, Nathan Carter Newbold, director of North Carolina's Division of Negro Education, is replying to a letter from John Frank Lytle. The letter is addressed to J.L. Lytle, in care of I.D.L. Torrence. The topic is the need for high schools and transportation in northern Mecklenburg County, to accommodate more than 200 black children who are prepared to advance but have nowhere nearby to go to school. 



Lytle's Grove School, according to family history, was founded by John Frank Lytle and Lois "Lula" Alexander Lytle, my second-great-grandmother who was a teacher. It was located at NC-73 and Poplar Tent Road in Mecklenburg County near the Cabarrus County line.

In his February 1914 report on rural schools for negroes, Newbold referenced a visit to Lytle Grove School. He wrote: "This is a single-room school, but two new rooms have just been added, one for an additional teacher, and the other for a kitchen. This is furnished with stove and utensils, and has a convenient pantry, etc. A large number of patrons greeted us here, and the meeting was held in the church nearby. Talks were made by the visitors, and some demonstration work was done by the teachers."

Newbold was describing the original school building (below) which was later replaced by a new school constructed nearby with Rosenwald funds (see top photo).

Old Lytle's Grove School, 1927


Sources: 

Charlotte-Mecklenburg Historic Landmarks Commission. (n.d.). Survey and research report for the Torrence-Lytle School. http://landmarkscommission.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/Torrence-Lytle-SR.pdf

Chris Folk Papers. (n.d.). A history note: Torrence-Lytle School. University of North Carolina at Charlotte. https://atkinsapps.charlotte.edu/node/17069

Corine Cannon Oral History, 2019. Pearl Digital Collections. Presbyterian Historical Society. https://digital.history.pcusa.org/islandora/object/islandora%3A150680

Griffith, Nancy. (2021). Rosenwald Schools: Special Davidson history column for Black History Month. News of Davidson. https://newsofdavidson.org/2021/02/18/34004/rosenwald-schools-special-davidson-history-column-for-black-history-month/

New Lytle's Grove School. State Archives of North Carolina. Department of Public Instruction: School Planning Section, School Photographs File, Box 5. https://www.flickr.com/photos/north-carolina-state-archives/51479650760/in/photostream/

North Carolina Digital Collections. (n.d.). Correspondence: Rosenwald Fund, Box 4, Folder E, 1927-1928. https://digital.ncdcr.gov/digital/collection/p16062coll13/id/1304/rec/2

North Carolina Digital Collections. (n.d.). General correspondence of the director, last name J to L, September 1935-August 1936. https://digital.ncdcr.gov/digital/collection/p16062coll13/id/77464/rec/1

North Carolina Digital Collections. (n.d.). Report of N.C. Newbold, State Supervisor rural schools for Negroes for North Carolina, For the Month of February 1914. https://digital.ncdcr.gov/digital/collection/p16062coll13/id/15941/rec/3

Old Lytle's Grove School. State Archives of North Carolina. Department of Public Instruction: School Planning Section, School Photographs File, Box 5. https://www.flickr.com/photos/north-carolina-state-archives/51479446819/in/photostream/

Wednesday, November 30, 2022

The Sweet Potato


 

I've always considered myself a child of summer, but fall has a special place in my heart. Where I live, the days are still relatively warm well into November and even December, but the nights are just chilly enough for a fire in the yard. 

My husband makes the best fires, the kind of fires that make you slowly inch your chair back at first, only to scoot back up as the fire settles down to a steady simmer. A good fire brings out good stories, the true stories as well as the lies, the ones that have been somewhat embellished over time. The flames loosen the tongue and release tucked-away memories of people long gone, and the passed-down tales that they told around yard fires long extinguished. 

One night on Sapelo Island, while sitting around a fire listening to lies, Cousin Tracy reached into the ashes beneath the smoldering wood and dug out a small sweet potato he had been baking. He carefully brushed it off, broke it in half, and handed a piece to me. While I normally smother my sweet potatoes in butter, cinnamon, and sugar or honey, I took a bite from the bare hot orange clump and died right there on the spot and went to heaven.

To this day, I still think about that sweet potato and how it made me feel. In each bite, I could taste the generations and savor the history and tradition, and feel the love of ancestors whose names I will never know. 

Monday, April 18, 2022

Family in black and white

By Elizabeth June Torrence


Note: Guest blogger, Elizabeth June Torrence, is my cousin. It is a long, twisted, tangle of a story that we are working to piece together. We are both members of the Torrence Cousins research group, descendants of enslavers and the enslaved who have committed to digging up the past and setting the record straight. Here, Elizabeth shares her discoveries about her father as well as her discoveries about her family's Carolina roots and how we are related. Family is complicated. -- MNJ

Today I found my father in the 1950 Federal Census.

It shouldn’t be a big deal -- he wasn’t lost, in fact, I knew exactly where he was supposed to be.

Four years ago I probably wouldn’t have cared that on April 1, 2022, the 1950 census would be released. I wouldn’t have known that the indexing process will take months and probably won’t be truly searchable until next year. I wouldn't have appreciated seeing the facts published for posterity.

Four years ago I got my DNA tested by Ancestry and for curiosity's sake, I uploaded the data to GEDmatch. I didn’t know if anything life-changing would come from my results, but I was intrigued by the possibilities.

In the summer of 2018, I was contacted through email by Michele. She had found me through one of the search functions on GEDmatch, “People who Match One or Both Kits.” I matched both her and her friend. She told me she had roots in Charlotte, N.C., and her great-great-grandfather had founded a school that became known as the Torrence-Lytle School.

I had a tree on Ancestry that I shared with Michele. Most, if not all the information about the Torrences I had copied from a tree my brother Richie had built before his death in 2004. She recognized my ancestor Alexander Torrence as the same man who was in Judy Hughes’ tree, whom she had met through Facebook, and she asked if I minded including Judy in our conversation. We grew as a group from there and I now had a purpose for researching my Torrence family of my own.

I knew my father was born in Charlotte, but in my head, he was from Virginia. Looking back now I realize that I didn’t really have a clue where he was from. I have his high school yearbooks from Tennessee and one from his year of college in Kentucky. He met my mother in her hometown of Fort Payne, Alabama, and I grew up in Atlanta, Georgia, where I have some vague memories of him talking about streets and places he knew as a kid.

My father died when I was 11 years old and for most of my childhood struggled with alcoholism. Since I was just a kid I was never told much, but I caught pieces of things here and there. One of the very few pictures I have of my dad as a child I was told was taken at the children’s home, and on the back are the names of the other children in what I know now is my Aunt June’s handwriting.






That’s my dad on the far right, and my Aunt June is the tall girl on the left.

See, in 1950, my dad and his older sister were living in the Southern Christian Children’s Home at 1101 Cleburne Avenue in Atlanta. The Jimmy Carter Center is now located on that property. That’s how, even without an index, I could find my father in the census.





When I opened this image I burst into tears. There he is, Richard H. Torrence, Orphan, age 12. Except he’s not an orphan.

It’s one thing to hear the stories -- it’s another to see them in black and white. The boy listed just before my father is also in the picture above. Some of the other children in this photo are listed in the census as well and I wonder what their stories are. Were they truly orphans, or were they placed there under similar circumstances to my dad and aunt? The census doesn’t tell the full story.

That story, like so many of ours, is a work in progress.

Through our little group of cousins, I’ve totally expanded my research skills. I was really a novice when we first started exchanging emails in 2018. When I’m not working on puzzling out our various relationships from the era of slavery in North Carolina, I’m trying to piece together a timeline of my father’s life before he met my mother. Finding the little clues and sharing them with my mother has generated so many memories she has of things my father told her during their 24 years of marriage that she had never and would probably have never shared with me. She is really my only primary resource and so many of her random memories have been borne out through records I’ve found online.

It’s the combination of stories passed on and the records we find that make the whole picture possible and I’m truly grateful for that courageous email from Michele that started me on this quest. I told her then that I was ready for whatever we found -- good, bad, or ugly -- and I’ve found some of each, but I’m better off for all of it.

Elizabeth June Torrence, 2022

Wednesday, April 13, 2022

I See the Moon

 


Laura Mvula performing Sing to the Moon live with the Metropole Orkest on YouTube


Looking back on my childhood, I remember that I was always missing someone. My father, when he was in the navy and out to sea for six months at a time... He would be on the other side of the world and gone so long I worried I would forget what he looked like. Mama would read his letters to us and show us pictures and tell stories to keep our memories fresh. And my grandparents... They weren't on the other side of the world, but to a young child, North Carolina seemed that far away. 

My Grandma Polly used to sing a song -- I see the moon and the moon sees me. God bless the moon and God bless me.  That song always reminded me that no matter how far away my loved ones were, we could all look up and see the same moon. That comforted me. It still does, although, most of the loved ones I'm missing now have transitioned far beyond the moon.

Enslaved & Enslaver Descendants


 

On April, 9, 2022, four members of the Torrence Cousins research group participated in the virtual program, Enslaved & Enslaver: Finding Descendant Connections, presented by the North Suburban Genealogical Society and Glenview Public Library in Glenview, Ill.

Friday, February 25, 2022

Ancestral Excursions

Old Dominion Steamship Company. Source: Library of Congress.


I grew up thinking my maternal grandparents, and their parents had never lived anywhere else other than North Carolina. I made this false assumption simply because I never asked and they never talked about living anywhere else. So you can imagine my surprise when, well into my adulthood, my grandmother, Kate Irene Russell, shared a story about briefly living in New Mexico when her husband was stationed there in the U.S. Army. I can't remember how the topic came up, but I was amazed I had never heard of this time in her life.

James Russell and his daughter Kate
James Hampton Russell and his daughter, Kate
My grandmother described the train ride from North Carolina with very young children, and how the black people had to sit in the crowded Jim Crow car at the front of the train, which was sooty and dirty. They had to pack their own food because Jim Crow segregation laws prevented them from eating in the dining car or in many restaurants along the way. As for New Mexico, the only thing she could remember was the heat and the dust storms. How I wish I could see her again to ask her more questions.

I was well into my 40s when I learned that her father, James Hampton "Daddy Hamp" Russell, had lived in Virginia in 1917, and was employed by the Old Dominion Steamship Company based in Newport News. The information is on his World War I draft card. 

My mother and her oldest brother had no idea, however, my uncle did say he recalled hearing that Daddy Hamp had taken etiquette classes at one of the historically black colleges either in Charlotte or in Concord, N.C. That makes sense as the classes would have provided the proper training for a crew member on an elegant steamship offering trips to New York, Richmond, Boston, Baltimore, and Philadelphia. 

Again, I have so many questions. What kind of work did he do? Who were his friends?

The draft card was stamped June 5, 1917. He was a newlywed. Just two weeks earlier Daddy Hamp had married my great-grandmother, Margaret Lytle, on May 23, in North Carolina.
 
Did she go with him? 

I may never know the answers, but I will keep researching, looking for clues, and imagining what my ancestors may have experienced on their journeys far from their Carolina homes.

World War I draft card for James Hampton Russell (1891-1966). Registration State: Virginia; Registration County: Warwick. Source: National Archives and Records Administration/Ancestry.com



Ballins Dampfer Welt. S.S. Madison - Old Dominion Line - New York - Interior. [Video]. YouTube. https://youtu.be/usvHCep-q6U


Resources:




29 May 1916, Mon Asheville Citizen-Times (Asheville, North Carolina) Newspapers.com

Saturday, February 5, 2022

Featured Funeral Program

Bernice Elizabeth Kiser Allison (1915-1987)




From her funeral service program: Mrs. Bernice Elizabeth Kiser Allison, age 71, daughter of the late Reverend Samuel Kiser and Emma Howie Kiser was born June 13, 1915, in Cabarrus County, North Carolina. She departed this life Wednesday, March 18, 1987, at Cabarrus Memorial Hospital.

Mrs. Allison attended Logan High School and was a graduate of Price High School, Salisbury, North Carolina. Later, she graduated from Apex Beauty College, Baltimore, Maryland. As a cosmetologist, she was the operator of Bernice's Beauty Shop for a period of over 25 years. She was a member of the Kannapolis and Landis Beautician Club and the North Carolina State Beautician Association. She did further study at the Advanced School of Business, Chicago, Illinois, studying Secretarial Sciences. She was a retired employee of Cannon Mills. 

Mrs. Allison was a former member of Price Memorial AME Zion Church, Concord, North Carolina. She served as Assistant Secretary of the Young Women's Missionary Society of the Concord District. In 1937, she joined Bethel AME Zion Church. After joining Bethel, she organized the Young Women's Missionary Society and was an officer for a period of 38 years. For seven years, Mrs. Allison was the Junior Church President and served as Assistant Superintendent of the church school. 

During the pastorship of Reverend W.J.W. Turner, Mrs. Allison organized the Gospel Choir of which her sister, Margaret Kiser Branch, was the organist. She was the first Life Member of the Missionaries to be stoled in Bethel AME Zion Church. Mrs. Allison served as Church Secretary, Class Leader, member of the Deaconness Board, Usher Board, and in many other capacities at Bethel AME Zion Church. She organized Girl Scouting in this church and served as director for 15 years. She was the director of Girl Scouting for the Concord District and was the organizer of the Hornet's Nest Council for Service Unit No. 1 of Cabarrus County. She also served as a volunteer for Kannapolis Christian Ministries. Mrs. Allison will long be remembered for her service to mankind.

 

Thursday, February 3, 2022

Phillis Coleman

Phillis (Phyllis) Coleman (1823-1908)


This is my paternal fourth-great-grandmother, Phillis (Phyllis) Coleman. She was born into slavery in Virginia in 1823, and she died in freedom in 1908, in Lancaster County, South Carolina. Her enslaver, and the father of some of her children, was Robert Brown Cunningham (1815-1885).


Grandmother Phillis' daughter was Rachel Cunningham (1845-1912), my third-great-grandmother, who married Charles Carr (1844-?), and later, Nicholas Peay (1836-1907).

My Peay line descends from people who were enslaved by the white Peay family, who held more than 1,000 people in bondage on several plantations in South Carolina. I've been documenting these people as best I can, when I can, digging through wills and ship manifests and other records, making lists, saying their names out loud.

When I did my DNA test a few years ago, I noticed that I was matching people from Marengo County, Ala., on my Peay line. Who were these distant Peay cousins?

The answer was in the will of Austin Ford Peay (1787-1841), the patriarch of the family that enslaved mine. In his will, he left his daughter, Mary, 30 slaves. Their names were Patty, Jack, William, Fanny, Washington, Hilliard, Chainey, Isaac, William, Sam, Nancy, Mary, Sophia, Sukey, Patty, Francis, Polly, Venus, Lizasa Gullah, Robbin Jr., Ellen, Delia, Cudjo, Amey, Nancy, Albert, Obed, Jeff, Jim Gullah, and Sylvia.

Mary Lucilla Justina Peay was married to Charles A. Poellnitz, and they ran a plantation in Marengo County, Ala., deep in the Alabama Black Belt. Her inheritance -- which included some of my family members -- was uprooted from South Carolina and moved to Alabama.

I often think about what the death of a "massa" often meant for my ancestors. When I read the wills, I see my ancestors listed as property, and their families being torn apart, bequeathed or sold off, or leased. I see it time and time again, and feel their sadness and anguish over and over again.

How much loss did Grandmother Phillis experience in her long lifetime? How many children did she have, and have taken away, before her life ever crossed paths with Robert Brown Cunningham?

Friday, December 31, 2021

H. Lee Waters Film Collection

The H. Lee Waters Film Collection includes silent films documenting communities in the Carolinas and in Virginia from 1936-1942. African-American communities in Kannapolis, N.C., are included in the collection, which is in the archives of Duke University Libraries.

Look for Reel 3 of the Kannapolis footage, and scroll down to the time stamps below the video. At 18:06 on Reel 3, are students at George Washington Carver in Kannapolis. I get choked up watching this footage because my parents grew up in Kannapolis, and although they were born a few years after these videos were made, I know some of these people working and playing and going about their lives are my family.

Thursday, October 15, 2020

Mother Hillery

Cherokee Roses in spring, on the road to Mother Hillery’s house.

When I’m home by myself overnight, I lock up like Mother Catherine Hillery. She was the thoughtful elderly church mother and dear cousin on Sapelo Island who wouldn’t answer the door after sunset — no exceptions. 

She’d call our house in the late afternoon and say “Come get a piece of this bread pudding before the sun go down.” 

The kids would scurry down the dirt road to beat that sun because the bread pudding was always warm and delicious, and she usually would slip them some pocket change. 

Sweet memories.


Monday, August 17, 2020

Elizabeth Elaine Lemon: Trailblazing Woman

Note: This was a speech I delivered on Feb. 29, 2020, as part of Trailblazing African American Women of Coastal Georgia, a program presented by The Ashantilly Center at St. Cyprian's Episcopal Church and Parish Hall. -- MNJ


In my former life, as a newspaper journalist, I wrote a Family column that was published weekly with my picture. So, when Black History Month rolled around, I was bombarded with calls to speak at churches, civic groups, and schools.

The schools were my favorite because I actually loved the challenge of trying to hold the attention of squirming elementary schoolchildren or engaging with middle or high school students who probably would rather be somewhere else.

Elizabeth Elaine Lemon
Elizabeth Elaine Lemon
I would often talk about family history, genealogy, one of my passions. And I would explain to them that we all have heroes within the branches of our family trees.

During Black History Month we often celebrate people who are larger than life household names – Martin Luther King Jr. and Harriet Tubman … Malcolm X and George Washington Carver … and Frederick Douglass.

But many of the heroes in our families and in our communities are of the unsung variety, the ones who worked behind the scenes, and laid the foundation for others to build upon.

Elizabeth Elaine Lemon is one of those heroes.

She was born August 4, 1904, on Sapelo Island, Georgia, the daughter of Thomas Lemon and Lula Walker Lemon.

Her family – her parents and brothers and sisters -- called her “Bell.”

Bell’s early childhood, the early 1900s, was a time of changes on Sapelo Island. The land that was once dominated by the Spalding family, the island’s last major plantation owners, was purchased by Howard Coffin, a Detroit auto man. Coffin moved to the island and rebuilt the former Spalding “Big House,” transforming its tabby skeleton into a beautiful Mediterranean-style estate.

The black people on Sapelo included the formerly enslaved and their children and grandchildren. Many people on Sapelo worked for Howard Coffin performing the same tasks they or their ancestors had performed during slavery – cooking, cleaning, tending to the cows in the dairy or the flowers in the greenhouse.

Bell would have undoubtedly heard stories about her grandfather, James Lemon, who was born in 1828. He was one of several enslaved men on Sapelo who ran away and joined the Union Army during the Civil War. He served in Company A of the 33rd Regiment of the U.S. Colored Infantry.

His wife, Jane Cummings Lemon, ran away, too, along with other enslaved people, when the Spalding family evacuated Sapelo Island ahead of Union troops. According to James Lemon’s pension records, he was granted special permission to leave the war to return to Sapelo Island to check on his wife.

Young Bell would have no doubt heard these stories and many more, and probably would have been aware of and experienced the injustice of Jim Crow and the racism always present in black people’s lives long after slavery ended.

But she also would have witnessed what many little black girls and boys saw in the early 1900s all across America … black people making a way out of no way, creating opportunities for themselves, building communities, working together in churches, civic organizations, fraternal organizations, working as entrepreneurs and skilled craftsmen.

Bell would have known the value of education with the island school playing a vital role in developing strong minds and character in children who would grow up in a segregated world that did not value their worth.

Bell described her early education in an interview with genealogist Mae Ruth Green in the early 1980s.

“The children learned phonics and had to memorize poetry. In fact,” she said, “most of the poetry I know now, I learned on Sapelo Island.”

Bell attended grades one through five on Sapelo Island, and then continued her education at St. Athanasius Episcopal School in Brunswick. In the summers, she said she would scrape up bus fare to go to Savannah in search of work cleaning homes and doing other tasks for families.

“I would not spend more than a dime of my precious earnings for food,” she said. “A nickel glass of jelly and a five-cent loaf of bread made very good eating while I was looking for work. A couple of slices of bread and a glass of water made a good meal, and when the jelly was added, I had a party!”

In 1921, Bell – who called herself Elaine – graduated with honors from St. Athanasius, and then made her way north to study teaching at Atlanta University Normal School.

“When I was going to Atlanta University my shoes wore out … the soles went completely and the outer rim spread like a moccasin’s mouth,” she said. “When students made fun of my feet, I held my head high and craned my neck to peer into the distance to see what was giving them so much fun.”  

She graduated from Atlanta University, raggedy shoes and all, and was Salutatorian of her class.

Her early teaching career included six years (1923-1929) in the public schools of Winston-Salem, N.C. While teaching in North Carolina, she would go to New York City during the summers to work for a family. She made more money in the summer in New York than she did teaching school in North Carolina.

“I bought clothes, shoes, hats, luggage, and silk underwear, and sent money home to Sapelo, as much as $40 at a time,” she said. She paid for her sister Kate’s sewing lessons and began saving to buy a new home.

She went back to school, this time in Indiana, and in 1930 earned a Bachelor’s degree in English and Science from Ball State Teachers College (now known as Ball State University) in Muncie, Indiana. That same year, she returned to Atlanta to join the faculty of a groundbreaking experiment in education known as Atlanta University Laboratory School.

Atlanta University Laboratory School opened in September of 1930. The school combined the college preparatory programs of Spelman College, Morehouse College and Atlanta University.

The secondary school students took classes in Giles Hall on the Spelman campus.

Elementary school children attended classes at Oglethorpe School which was on the Atlanta University campus.

Elizabeth Elaine Lemon served as the Teaching Principal of the laboratory elementary school, from 1930-1943.

The philosophy of the progressive school included independent study with a social-problems approach, and the belief that students should have a role in choosing the topics to be studied and help plan class projects. The school was governed by collaboration or a democratic process amongst the faculty members, who met weekly, as well as the students.

The school attracted talented faculty and gifted students who often received state and national recognition in the areas of science and writing.

In an article published in The New York Age in 1931, Atlanta University president, John Hope, described the purpose of the laboratory school.

“It’s purpose is not primarily to give students in the Department of Education practice in teaching,” he said. Rather, it is to “provide them with an opportunity to observe good teaching and its results.”

One of the most distinguished teachers was artist and Harvard graduate Hale Woodruff, who was the chair of the Art Department

One of the most distinguished students – although he was only in the seventh grade at the time -- was an overachiever named Martin Luther King, Jr. (Young Martin, by the way, would ultimately skip ninth-grade and finish his high school years at Booker T. Washington High School in Atlanta, before entering Morehouse College at age 15.)

Elaine Lemon, who was one of Martin Luther King’s teachers, had a personal teaching style that involved getting outside and going places. In addition to reading, she encouraged learning through experimentation and dramatization.

The Atlanta University Laboratory School had its critics. Renowned author, sociologist, and activist W.E.B. Du Bois, who was on the faculty of Atlanta University, viewed the program with some skepticism, primarily because he felt the school was understaffed and underfunded. In addition, the student population did not reflect the socioeconomic and educational diversity within the African American community. The students at the Laboratory School were the children of successful business owners and preachers, attorneys, doctors, and teachers.

An article published in The Atlanta Constitution in 1979 described the Laboratory School’s Oglethorpe Elementary as the first step on the road to entry in the “black society.” The next step was the Laboratory High School, and then Spelman or Morehouse, before going off to graduate school.

The story of experimentation in black high schools in the 1930s and ‘40s, and the history of the education of African Americans, is worth a Black History Month program all by itself. Elaine Lemon was part of a progressive movement known as the Secondary School Study or the Black High School Study. It included the Laboratory School and 17 other high schools throughout the South, and her participation in this experiment undoubtedly shaped her philosophy as she continued her career in education.

While teaching in Atlanta, Elaine Lemon continued going to school during the summers and during leaves of absence, she would take from teaching. She continued working other side-jobs to help pay her way through school, but she no longer had to clean houses.

She earned her Master’s degree in Social Science from Columbia University in New York in 1941, where she was elected Dean’s Scholar in the Advanced School of Education in the Teachers College. She taught religion at the historic Riverside Church also in New York not far from Columbia, as well as at Chautauqua Institution in New York, and Tufts College in Boston.

When the United States entered World War II, Elaine Lemon switched gears and became a USO director, coordinating services for American troops and helping to boost morale.

Following the war, she went back to Indiana and taught in a public school. In 1953 she was named the first African-American principal of the new $1 million Frederick Douglass School in Gary, Indiana, where she served until she retired.

Retirement for Elaine did not mean rest. She continued learning and teaching, with the whole world as her classroom. She traveled to five continents as a YMCA World Ambassador in the mid-1970s and into the 1980s.

In India, she met the prime minister, Indira Gandhi. In Ghana, she helped to build a school for preschoolers. She visited Tanzania, Nigeria, and Uganda, Greece, Italy, and the People’s Republic of China. She visited countries in Europe and Central America. In 1982 she visited the Soviet Union.

Back in Gary, Indiana, Elaine was active with the Urban League, the YWCA, the PTA, the United Way, the Chamber of Commerce, and the Friends of the Library. She was a member of Sigma Gamma Rho Sorority, a lifelong member of the NAACP, and an inspirational speaker. Her speaking topics included everything from the meaning of life to the role of women in the Space Age.

She was mentioned on the Society pages of Jet Magazine at least twice for her fundraising work with the United Negro College Fund and for her travels abroad.

When Elaine Lemon returned to Coastal Georgia, she made Savannah her home. She lived in the house she had bought many years earlier. (Yes, she did buy that house she was saving for all those years ago. It was a home where her mother lived out the last years of her life.)

In Savannah, she was an active member of St. Matthews Episcopal Church. She taught Sunday School and was a member of the St. Augustus Guild and served on the Day Care Center Board.

Elizabeth Elaine Lemon died on New Year’s Day in 1999, in Savannah.

The gifted teacher had touched lives and inspired so many halfway across the country and around the world. Her funeral program read: “Bell, our beloved sister, aunt, cousin, and friend.”

She was an extraordinary woman. At the same time, she was like so many African American men and women of her generation … the grandchildren of enslaved people who fought to be free and control their own destiny.

Black people who rode the wave of the Great Migration from the South to the North and West, running from Jim Crow, searching for opportunity, building new lives.

Elizabeth Elaine Lemon was the product of a family that loved her, and an island community of friends, teachers and a church-family that nurtured her and instilled in her the desire to succeed and to serve.

Looking back, when she had time to reflect on her life, she understood the odds she overcame and the hard work she did to reach her goals.

“Would you believe that it is just in later years that I realized that my going to school was a heroic undertaking?” she reflected in an interview with genealogist Mae Ruth Green.

“I was working to send myself to school since I was in the fifth grade. I lived with people who worked me morning, noon, and night. I ate sparingly hoping they would notice and lighten my work … but they did not see.”

We see you, Bell, and we thank you, and we honor you for your perseverance and commitment.

She left her island home all those years ago, but she took Sapelo with her. All the love and discipline and determination that was poured into her, she poured into the world, and into the people whose lives she touched.