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THE AMERICAN BLACKSTORY 2020

DAY 1 — The Sugar Land 95

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A single backhoe’s load of dirt in early 2018 was all it took to unearth 95 battered and discarded skeletons and a history that the Imperial Sugar Corporation, the State of Texas, and the entire southern United States might have preferred remain buried.

But they had been well-warned. Reginald Moore, a former prison guard and caretaker of the state’s Old Imperial Farm Prison Cemetery had spent over 25 years researching the history of prisons, plantations and slavery in the southeastern “Sugar Bowl of Texas,” and he’d pleaded with city officials to conduct archaeological surveys before continuing development. He cautioned them that eventually, the dark history of the region’s sugar economy would come back to haunt the town just outside of Houston so aptly named Sugar Land.

Sugar caning had a long-standing reputation of being such miserable, back-breaking work that farms couldn’t even pay people to work the fields. It didn’t take long for most of the local sugar plantations to go entirely bankrupt once their unwilling workforce found freedom in 1865 when Texas was emancipated.

But the enterprising owners of a successful plantation that would go on to become the Imperial Sugar Company had another gambit to play. Since 1844, their neighbors in Louisiana had engaged in a practice known as “convict leasing.” Despite its relatively unassuming name, convict leasing was state-sanctioned slavery that was mutually beneficial for both plantation owners AND southern states. The enactment of “Black Codes” in southern states ensured a constant supply of prisoners (and thus constant income) by frivolously jailing black men for things like failing to get their employer’s permission to change jobs or flirting with white women, and plantation owners now had hassle-free labor with an added bonus: unlike slaves, leased convicts were easily replaceable and didn’t need to be well-fed or particularly cared for at all. If they died, plantation owners buried them where they fell, chains and all, and simply requisitioned another.

Victims of the “Black Codes” at work as prison laborers. Children.

And so in 1878, just 13 years after slaves were freed in Texas, the Imperial Sugar Company became one of the largest convict lease owners in American history, buying rights to the ENTIRE state’s prison population, and gaining a brand new nickname that reflected the horrific conditions that convict leasing allowed them to inflict on workers: “The Hellhole on the Brazos.” One inmate wrote that Imperial’s prison guards routinely reminded them that “the men did not cost them any money and the mules did,” a mentality that led to treatment so bad that “nobody was relieved until he dropped in his tracks.”

The painful legacy that Reginald Moore had begged Sugar Land officials to face was now one that they couldn’t look away from.

“The Sugar Land 95” (94 men and 1 woman) unearthed that day ranged from 14 to 70 years old, all with significant trauma to their bones. Despite outcry by 225 Texas historians asking the Fort Bend county officials to “make choices that acknowledge the national significance of this discovery… a burial ground [like which none other] has been found,” after DNA collection and artifact cataloguing, the Sugar Land 95 were reinterred back at the Fort Bend ISD construction site where they were found, with a memorial ceremony planned for this Spring.

When he spoke to the school district on behalf of the Sugar Land 95 he’d long fought to see acknowledged, Mr. Moore mourned that they were “being treated today in death the way they were treated when they were alive,” but took comfort in knowing that finally their truth could not be denied: “They existed.”

“A contract for convict labor, used during the convict leasing system that forced thousands of African Americans to work as forced labor after slavery ended specifically asks for ‘Negro workers.’”
(Read on at USA Today)

KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Read details of Reginald Moore’s campaign for justice for the Sugar Land 95 at Texas Monthly.

The Houston Chronicle dives into the dark history of contract labor surrounding the “Hellhole on the Brazos.”
Sam Collins of the Convict Leasing and Labor Project speaks about their purpose and the history of convict leasing and the Sugar Land 95 on the Texas State Capitol, built by convict laborers.

In 2009, Douglas A. Blackmon’s book “Slavery By Another Name” won the Pulitzer Prize, and it’s another excellent source should you want to learn more about the convict leasing system.

Caleb McDaniel, a historian at Rice University, has been one of the most vocal allies of preserving the entire site where the Sugar Land 95 were found. Find his official statement and petition (endorsed by the 225 historians referenced above) here.

THE AMERICAN BLACKSTORY 2019

DAY 26 — Victor Green & The Green Book

Victor Green - The Black Guide to America

“Would a Negro like to pursue a little happiness at a theater, a beach, pool, hotel, restaurant, on a train, plane, or ship, a golf course, summer or winter resort? Would he like to stop overnight at a tourist camp while he motors about his native land ‘Seeing America First?’ Well, just let him try!”

That was the state of affairs according to the NAACP’s magazine in 1947, as they warned black people against buying into the Great Northern Railway & National Park Service’s ad campaign encouraging Americans to vacation close to home. And lest someone doubt it, they need only look to examples of the plain warnings posted just outside thousands of “sundown towns”:

“N—–, Don’t Let The Sun Go Down On You.”

These weren’t just occasional backwoods towns. As late as the 1960’s there were still as many as 10,000 active sundown towns documented in the United States, some that were well-known and well-populated like Glendale, CA and over half of the incorporated towns in Illinois.

It was a difficult dilemma for black people who’d been encouraged to buy cars as soon as they could to avoid the humiliation of being forced to the back of public transportation vehicles, but couldn’t freely use those cars to travel beyond the relative safety of their immediate surroundings. If they did, they often packed extra food, gas and portable facilities to avoid being forced in dangerous situations for necessities.

Victor Hugo Green had done his share of getting around. As a postal worker, and later World War II soldier and music manager, he’d learned to navigate where he was welcome and would repeatedly visit those same establishments for both his own safety and to contribute to their continued success.

After some close calls himself and hearing stories from strangers and friends alike about running into racism whether traveling for business or pleasure, he decided that he’d curate a book to help “give the Negro traveler information that will keep him from running into difficulties, embarrassments and to make his trip more enjoyable.”

When he ran his inaugural 10-page issue in 1936, it was titled the “Negro Motorist Green Book,” and it primarily focused on lodgings, gas stations, restaurants and travel advice in New York, but by the very next year, it was popular enough to reach national distribution. By picking the brains of his fellow postal workers and offering to pay the Green Book’s readers $1 for providing new leads, Victor grew his publication annually until he left for the war in 1940, and when he returned in 1946, he began expanding the Green Book to include safe spaces in international destinations like Mexico, Canada, the Bahamas and Europe. By 1949, the Green Book was up to 80 pages including ads, many of which were from black female entrepreneurs who found freedom and greater personal wealth in running their own businesses and benefited from the word-of-mouth.

But what the Green Book omitted was as much a warning as inclusion was a welcome. Not a single restaurant was featured in Alabama in the 1949 issue. In Texas, only Austin and Waco were included in ANY Green Book. On the contrary, New Mexico was highlighted as a state that primarily practiced “cash over color.” The information contained (or not) within the pages of the Green Book was so extensive and reputable, a member of the Little Rock Nine even called it “one of the survival tools of segregated life.”

Recognizing that ultimately, black travelers just wanted to have positive experiences, Victor always ensured that the tone of the Green Book, while cautious was always uplifting, and he often featured travel quotes like his twist on Mark Twain’s “Travel is fatal to prejudice” to reassure black travelers that eventually things would change. In fact, at their peak of printing 15,000 copies annually, Victor himself once wrote, “There will be a day sometime in the near future when this guide will not have to be published… It will be a great day for us to suspend this publication for then we can go wherever we please, and without embarrassment.”

Victor passed away in 1960 and didn’t live to see the signing of the Civil Rights Act of 1964 outlawing discrimination on the basis of race, but his hope was indeed realized. With the passage of the Act, the dire necessity for his guide slowly decreased, and after nearly 30 years in circulation, the Green Book was finally retired in 1966, having made a whole era of travel possible for black people who wanted to take their growing freedoms on the road too.

KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Explore the New York Public Library’s digital catalogue of Green Books published 1936-1967.

The Bitter Southerner created a really lovely featurette illustrating personal vignettes about using the Green Book.

THE AMERICAN BLACKSTORY 2019

DAY 23 — Robert Abbott

Robert Abbott - Defender of Black Voices

Twice, Robert Abbott had risen to his full potential only to be thwarted by the color of his skin.

He’d studied the printing trade in college, but when he graduated, the only jobs he was offered were in unskilled labor for which he was overqualified.

He’d gone back to school and graduated with a law degree, but before he could build his own practice, an established Chicago lawyer informed him that he was “a little too dark to make any impression on a court.”

So Robert combined his talents and went to work for someone who’d never stand in his way: himself and the people who looked just like him.

In 1905, The Chicago Defender was established.

What started with a 25 cent investment and a 300-copy first run printed from Robert’s landlady’s kitchen grew to 250,000 copies per week and became the most highly circulated black newspaper in the country.

When Robert read white mainstream papers, he was disheartened that the primary news of black people revolved around their crimes, lynchings and the riots against them. He knew better.

His newspaper painted black people in a whole new light. He featured black successes, ran news of black interest, promoted black landlords and properties, rallied for black equality, and once his paper’s distribution reached over 100,000 with nearly two-thirds of that beyond Chicago, he created a whole campaign designed to improve the lot of black readers everywhere. Having noticed that a large number of the derogatory stories and negative events around black people were coming from Southern states where slavery (and thus its effects) had lingered, he appealed to those affected readers to move to Chicago where there was more freedom, a richly cultured and diverse black community and most importantly, personal opportunity.

The “Great Migration” as the surge of black Southerners to northern states was called, began in 1915, but Robert put an urgency to it, even calling for a “Great Northern Drive” on May 15, 1917 as a mass protest exodus of sorts. Between 1916 when The Defender’s campaign began and 1918, Chicago’s black population more than tripled from 40,000 to 150,000, a growth rate that many today and back then largely attributed to Robert’s successful advertising.

It’s no surprise that such a positive force for black people quickly drew the wrong kind of attention and in many southern states, The Defender became anathema. Just before World War I, the U.S. government investigated Robert on charges of sedition after he called for black servicemen to demand equal rights in the military. Klansmen began attacking anyone black seen reading the The Defender, news outlets refused to carry it, and for a very short time, the paper was in jeopardy.

But by then, Robert was a master at using his hustle to overcome adversity.

He bundled the paper in luggage and distributed it among black railroad porters who created a network that gained him an even greater readership than he’d had before. They’d deliver individual copies to riders covertly, redistribute weekly editions among themselves, or drop off whole stacks in local black barber shops, churches and community centers where they’d be seen and shared by up to 500,000 black readers per edition.

While the Defender had long grown from its kitchen production, its distribution eventually had such a high volume that it had to be moved to its own building entirely, becoming the first black newspaper with its own printing press, and in the early 1920’s, its founder who originally couldn’t break into the printing industry became one of America’s first self-made black millionaires.

Robert Abbott died in 1940, but by 1956, The Chicago Defender had become the largest black owned daily newspaper in the world. Although it’s circulation is much smaller now, (as are most newspapers) it’s still in print today, and the goals of its founding principles are just as relevant in 2019 as they were in 1905 when one man determined to overcome racism made a difference for millions.

“The Chicago Defender’s Bible”

1. American race prejudice must be destroyed;
2. Opening up all trade unions to blacks as well as whites;
3. Representation in the President’s Cabinet;
4. Hiring black engineers, firemen, and conductors on all American railroads, and to all jobs in government;
5. Gaining representation in all departments of the police forces over the entire United States;
6. Government schools giving preference to American citizens before foreigners;
7. Hiring black motormen and conductors on surface, elevated, and motor bus lines throughout America;
8. Federal legislation to abolish lynching; and
9. Full enfranchisement of all American citizens.

KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

The Chicago Defender continues its legacy of reporting on positivity in the Black community still today.

THE AMERICAN BLACKSTORY 2019

DAY 11 — Seneca Village

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Seneca Village - Central Park’s Stolen Foundation

There’s a dark secret buried beneath the greenery of Central Park.

In the mid-1850s, New York was was just beginning to blossom into the global city it’s now become. Brimming with tourists, businessmen and immigrants from around the world, the city needed a grand outdoor space to rival those of London, Paris and other European metropolises, according to New York’s officials and prominent residents too.

Where they didn’t have space to build, city planners took what they needed from the nearby “shanty wasteland” inhabited by “insects, squatters, and bloodsuckers,” as the local papers characterized the small enclave of Seneca Village and its people.

But those descriptions couldn’t have been further from the truth. No one was more invested in the well-being and upkeep of their small corner of the Big Apple than Seneca Village’s own citizens – it had stood as New York’s first community of free black people for 30 years.

Despite the fact that the state of New York didn’t officially free slaves until 1827 and the United States didn’t follow until 1863, the free black men and women of Seneca Village established their middle-class settlement by purchasing adjacent plots of property in 1825. But so much more than pride bound them so fiercely to their estates. In those days, black men were only eligible to vote if they owned at least $250 of land. Of the nearly 14,000 black people documented in New York at the time, only 91 had voting rights and of those, 10 lived in Seneca Village. For their small town, preservation was power.

Albro and Mary Beth Lyons were two prominent abolitionists who were also known citizens of Seneca Village.

But unbeknownst to all of them, just two weeks before the church’s cornerstone was set, city officials had ordered the entire village, from 81st to 89th Streets between 7th and 8th Avenues (near what’s now Central Park West), condemned to make space for their vanity.

With 3 churches, 3 schools, 2 cemeteries and dozens of free-standing homes up to three stories tall, Seneca Village was a thriving community with nearly 600 total residents during the 3 decades it existed. And they had plans for greater longevity. When the cornerstone for their First African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church was laid in 1853, a time capsule was placed inside to preserve the significance for future residents. As a suspected Underground Railroad stop due to the presence of so many abolitionists and the constant influx of new residents, it had become a place of hope for all who passed through and a realized vision of what free black people could be.

An article from the New York Herald documents the coffins unearthed in 1871, noting that they had not been there just 5 years before when trees were planted in the park. Unlikely, as excavations later established it as the location of one of Seneca Village’s cemeteries. (Also note the coffin’s description.)

4 years later in 1857, it was all gone. Despite protests from the citizens and lawsuits that they brought against the city for failing to pay what the property was worth, if they paid anything at all, the then 300 or so men, women and children of Seneca Village didn’t stand a chance against New York’s elite.

It wasn’t just black history that was destroyed either. By the time it was razed, Seneca Village was a shining example of an integrated community, with as many as 30% of its residents having been Irish or German, all attending the same schools, churches and local gatherings.

Seneca Village was only one of many black communities, cemeteries and landmarks lost to the rise of New York, and the city has begun to address this shameful history through places like the African Burial Ground National Monument and historical markers. But some mistakes can never be undone. As signified on the plaque where Seneca Village once stood, after their property and voting rights were lost, Seneca Village was never rebuilt, and while remains have been unearthed there sporadically since 1871, not a single living descendant of the community’s black citizens has ever been found. to make something brand new.

Where Seneca Village would have stood today

KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Explore the study & excavation of this historic community at Columbia University’s Seneca Village Project.
THE AMERICAN BLACKSTORY 2017

DAY 19 — Greenwood, Tulsa

Greenwood District, Tulsa, Oklahoma - The Black Wall Street Massacre

In the early 20th century, black businessmen bought land in Tulsa, Oklahoma, and developed it into one of the most successful & affluent black communities ever built in America.

The Greenwood district in Tulsa, Oklahoma was once so self-sufficient & financially stable that it was known as “Black Wall Street” where black people lived, worked, bought, sold & traded with others, and everyone succeeded for it. Greenwood had its own banks, pharmacies, lawyers, doctors (including a Mayo Clinic endorsed surgeon), and published two newspapers. Large segments of the population lived with trappings of wealth that were rare even for black people in integrated northern states, like private planes.

But on May 31, 1921, it all literally burned to the ground. In a story that plays like a broken record, a rumor about a black man assaulting a white woman somehow justified genocide, and Tulsa’s racists, bolstered by the KKK, destroyed EVERYTHING in Greenwood. The community was bombed from the air & torched from below in a 2-day riot that no law enforcement official stopped & no one was ever held accountable for.

Over 800 people were injured, an estimated 10,000 were left homeless when 35 city blocks of over 1,256 residences were destroyed, more than a dozen churches and 600 successful businesses were lost, including 21 restaurants, 30 grocery stores, two movie theaters and a hospital. Greenwood’s founder alone lost over $200,000 in property assets. Archaeologists & historians estimate that as many as 300 died that day, and their bodies were dumped in a mass grave outside of the local cemetery. Known today as the Tulsa Race Riot, if estimates are correct, it ranks as the second deadliest attack on American soil behind 9/11.

Needless to say, Greenwood never recovered its original glory, and the story of what happened there only survived history because it destroyed a key milestone in black history. But it was hardly the only story of its kind. Between 1906 and 1923, notable mass murders of dozens of black people were carried out in Atlanta, East St. Louis, Rosewood, FL, and Slocum, TX. Similarly to the Tulsa Riot, ultimately, no one was held responsible for committing any of these crimes of murder, arson, kidnapping, rape, robbery and so on.

Today, when we point elsewhere to condemn senseless acts of terrorism, we should humbly acknowledge that our country has much to atone for to our own citizens in our not-so-distant past as well.

KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

The Tulsa Historical Society & Museum has preserved an incredible collection of images of the day of the massacre, but also of black life in Greenwood before it was stolen away.

CNN produced a very thorough 7-minute short featuring images of Greenwood & its citizens in their prime, more from the day of the massacre, newspaper articles, and an interview with an elderly survivor.
THE AMERICAN BLACKSTORY 2017

DAY 16 — Wereth 11

Wereth 11 - Heroic Artillery Battalion

World War II’s 333rd Field Army Battalion was composed of some of the first black enlisted men trained in combat, rather than service positions.

The 11 men who were the 333rd’s Charley Battery quickly made names for themselves through their deadly accuracy with artillery, destroying a German tank 9 miles away in 90 seconds. But that fame also made them targets to a German army gasping for its last breath.

On December 16, 1944, Charley Battery was separated from their unit. They found safety in the tiny 9-house hamlet of Wereth, Belgium, just on the German border. The Nazi SS was tipped off & raided the village, demanding the soldiers’ surrender. To prevent any harm to the locals, Charley Battery surrendered peacefully.

Rather than being kept as prisoners of war or executed immediately, the 11 men were brutally tortured. Many were missing fingers, had broken legs, suffered bayonet & barrel stock wounds to the eyes & head, and suffered multiple, non-lethal gunshot wounds before they were finally killed & left in the snow, where their bodies remained until documented by the Army in February 1945.

These weren’t the only American soldiers the SS committed war crimes against. But they were the only soldiers whose sacrifice went seemingly ignored. The 1949 Senate Armed Forces subcommittee recorded a dozen similar SS atrocities, but omitted the massacre of Charley Battery. On the 50th Anniversary of the soldiers’ deaths, the son of the man who’d sheltered them erected the monument pictured here, memorializing them as the “Wereth 11.” It’s the only known monument in Europe that honors the black soldiers who fought in World War II.

In 2013, Congress passed a resolution reissuing the original 1949 subcommittee report to include the Wereth 11, awarding them with multiple combat medals, including the Bronze Star and the Purple Heart.

Like many black soldiers who fought in American wars at home & abroad, the Wereth 11 bravely defended a country that didn’t defend them. Throughout our country’s history, but now more than ever, we’ve needed to be reminded that red-blooded Americans come in every color.

In honor of the sacrifices of:
Corporal Bradley Mager
Staff Sergeant Thomas J. Forte
Technical Corporal Robert L. Green
Technical Sergeant William E. Pritchett
Technical Sergeant James A. Stewart
PFC George Davis
PFC Jimmie L. Leatherwood
PFC George W. Moten
PFC Due W. Turner
Private Curtis Adams
Private Nathaniel Moss

KEEP GOING BLACK IN HISTORY:

Read the resolution that finally officially recognized the Wereth 11.