A Change Is Gonna Come: The Mystery of An American Family Part 1

This is me holding my two oldest daughters back in 2000.

They are the great, great grandchildren of grandpa "Jacob".

"A Change Is Gonna Come"

by John S LES


In my post last week, "Of Family Roots and Children's Wings I wrote about my year long journey to trace my family roots.  I must say that since I've posted I have received many glowing comments from those who read it.  In addition, two friends of mine who are exceptional historians have now lent their voices and actions for assistance.  Not only am I uncovering family history, American history, but I am also uncovering a family mystery that has been known for three generations.  That is of how an African American family, in a small, rural, segregated deep south, once have such a formidable degree of power and influence that they were feared?

By the time most of you read this post, I will probably be on my plane flying down to Atlanta, GA.  I will be meeting first, second, and third cousins that I have never met before in my life, outside of the long distance phone calls we have been having since this past December, 2013.  I backed myself up today with a half hour long conversation with my mother, two twenty minute conversations with my second cousins and an hour long conversation with my first cousin.

Not only are we meeting as family, but we are also are coming together to heal some wounds and resolve a family mystery.  It's a mystery and working knowledge throughout three generations that great grandpa "Jacob" who had the ten children, also had land and power in this small town.  So much power, that even though the town was "happily" segregated, and had both black and white living there, only one black family had enough social and political clout that actually made whites in the town fear them.  That family belong to grandpa "Jacob" and his children, and his grandchildren.

One of those grandchildren was my mother.  Of Jacob's direct children, one of his daughters was exceptionally powerful in that town.  My mother always told me that if her, or her sister ever ran into a problem, they called aunt "Theresa" and that problem was resolved when she arrived.  In addition, my mother told me that there were times when her or her siblings could enter places in the town where whites only entered.  As soon as a white person voiced an objection, they would be told who the children belonged to.  After that, the problem was over.  All of this and grandpa Jacob was in a virtual interracial marriage.  These are facts that were practically unheard of and inconceivable in the early to mid 20th century.

It would be one thing if I knew these stories all to my self.  However, I have spoken to numerous cousins, second cousins, spread from Georgia to Ohio.  We've never met before.  Our parents haven't spoken since the 1940's.  But all of us have had the same information and stories handed down to us from our parents and uncles and aunts.  Today, July 28, 2014 I will get to revisit my mother's hometown and investigate how one black family in the rural south had so much power and clout.  And to investigate if grandpa Jacob truly lost his land and money in a gambling debt, as has been told now for three generations.

Stay with me this week.  Walk with me and my cousins, and my family as we walk through American history and a family mystery.

Of Family Roots and Childrens Wings

"Of Family Roots and Children's Wings"
by John S LES

A long past journalist and author, Hodding S. Carter once wrote, "There are only two last bequests we can give our children - one is roots, and the other is wings."

And so as I have now come to a full year when I started this blog, and a full year of discussing my search for all of my relatives during this time - it is now coming to it's full fruition.  I have been talking to relatives, cousins and aunts and uncles from Cleveland, OH to Atlanta, GA and a few states in between.  It has been nothing short of an unbelievable experience to talk to relatives who know my mother and her sister by their childhood nicknames.  No one else in New York has referred to my mother, or my now deceased aunt by those names.  65 years has passed since my mother and her cousins ran around a small town in Georgia as kids.

My great grandfather gave birth to 10 children.  For the purpose of keeping my family's extended member's anonymity, I shall refer to my great grandfather as Jacob.    Jacob's 10 children had many children of their own.  My mother was one of those grandchildren to Jacob.  My mother always said that her grandfather was dark skinned black, had wiry, long hair and was a very influential man in the small town that she grew up in.  He was a mix of Native American and African American.  My mother also told me that her grandmother was white, or very "light".  My mother always told me about one of her aunts, let me call her aunt Candace, who grew up in this small town in Georgia.  Over time and by whatever means, aunt Candace evolved into a very influential person, as well as someone who welded great respect and influence.  Her name is said to be inscribed on a plaque in this town's city hall.  I remember my mother having me speak to her on the phone and I have a vague recall of seeing her in pictures and in person when I was a little boy and visiting my mother's hometown.

This was happening in a small, integrated town in Georgia during the early 1900 hundreds and for well into the 1960's.  Those were some of the toughest times in America for any African American family living in the deep south, in the post antebellum, end of slavery, dawn of Jim Crow period.  Yet my grandpa Jacob survived this period and died of natural causes, despite being in what would have been perceived as a "interracial" marriage.  Furthermore, he and his children lived through the dawn and end of the Civil Rights Movement.

By the late 1950's and early 60's most of Jacob's grand children had migrated throughout the country for jobs, a new life and even one grandson - had to leave Georgia to save his life.  Some moved as far north as Cleveland, OH, and New York City.  Some stayed nearby or moved to nearby states such as North and South Carolina.  In any event, those children then had children, making us the great grandchildren of grandpa Jacob.  For us the grandchildren who never met before, we all have bits and pieces of the same crossword puzzle.  I have been putting these pieces together for the past year.  I thank all of my family for their help.

Nearly a year ago to the week, I started interviewing my mother and taking down names and places.  Yes, it was the first weekend of August 2013 that my journey began.  A couple months later after doing some research, I was able to locate several names of relatives.  Then through traditional means, such as a phone book and then Facebook, I began making contact with my relatives.  And now, nearly a year later, I will be flying down to Atlanta and going on a journey to meet, record and share with all of my long lost relatives - the roots of our great grandfather.  I will be meeting cousins that I've known only on the phone, Skype, Tango or Facetime for the past 10 months.  Every time we talk or text, it just feels like we are walking through history and talking to a spiritual counterpart of ourselves.

It is our goal to bring some healing to the wounds created by historical damage, natural migration, and lost connections that occurred the past 148 years so that our children, now the great, great grandchildren of Jacob can rejoice in what is without a doubt a noble American family story of success and survival.  No doubt that there were mistakes along the way, but no one of us has to be concerned about any of those things.  By tracing back and sharing our family history, we can now give ourselves and our children wings upon which to soar.  We can now honor the legacy of grandpa Jim and aunt Candace.

So...for those reading this blog today or whenever, you can follow me starting next Monday, July 28, as I go back to my mother's roots and visit her home town and our relatives.  Who knows what other history that I will discover.