My great, great grandfather, Edward Jonathan Thomas, is my maternal grandmother's grandfather. All throughout my life, my grandmother spoke so highly of him, how much he was different from other "slave owners" of the South. If I'm honest, I thought she was so crazy for bringing it up with me as often as she did. It was embarrassing, and it was wrong. We could get into some pretty heavy arguments even when I was a child, but I know my grandmother cared very deeply for her grandfather (and father). When she was getting closer to her last years of life (she lived to 103), she had a habit of asking the same question over and over and over again: "Daryl, did you find my granddaddy's memoir? I can't find it. I want you to have it."...I promised every time to look for it, and I did look for it. I knew it was important to her.
My mother had tons of boxes in her house in the attic at the time, and I remember going through them in the summer heat (sweltering) trying to find a book that I was pretty sure I never actually wanted to find. The boxes were next to my oldest brother's old soda bottle collections (I mean, he had tons of old sodas (still with liquid in them)), and I kept thinking one of them was going to explode on me in the heat in the attic.
My grandmother had dementia in her final years, but she was VERY present in the conversations she would have. She just didn't remember she had the conversation about five minutes later. I had listened to a great Fresh Air episode back in the '90s about Alzheimer's and how important it was for people to not say to their loved ones, "remember I already told you x,y,z." Instead, I just pretended like whatever she asked me was the very first time. Every. Single. Time. I even changed the answers sometimes, but she got a proper answer because every time she asked she was asking in earnest.
But she became obsessed with me having her grandfather's book. She would remind me every time, "it's called 'Memoirs of a Southerner', and it will show you that not all slave owners were the same...."
My grandparents lived on Hilton Head Island when I was born--back when Hilton Head was just a few households. The organization of the area was done via "plantations" and my grandparents lived in Sea Pines Plantation. Everything about Hilton Head Island reminded me of the South, large plots of land, gated entrances, all the best in this particular area. Incredible beaches, serene marshes, bicycle paths to go the entire island, and fancy golf courses and tennis clubs. When my brothers and I would visit in the summers, it was very "fancy," and I'd often complain of having to wear dresses as my grandmother insisted (but I had something to say about it all the time--the battles I waged, I wonder at it now that I look back--I would get so angry, but she loved me, and I loved her. Here's something I do know: families are complicated, and complicated still equals love). I loved my grandmother even when I hated being around her "backward" ways.
Years after my grandmother passed, my cousin knew I was looking for the Memoir. And thanks to her research at the Library of Congress, she found a digital copy of the book on file. She made the facsimile for me, and well, I've read the book. It's very well written in terms of storytelling, but it is one of those "Tales of the Old South" through the very flawed lenses of legends and myths of the Confederacy and the Lost Cause. I know we can't go back and "shake" sense into people and I know I still see folks with this disposition to this very day. It's at the heart of all the unrest in our own country to this very day. I wrestle with it. I don't mind facing it.
This memoir was written in 1912. Until now, I always thought it was written in 1923, but I came across about 5 handwritten pages of a speech E J Thomas wrote October (24 or 27) 1913, which he was going to give at the "Club of Savannah."
I'm sorry this is taking so long....My head hurts now! Anyway, in this very long speech, I recognize the voice of the author of his memoir. He is very detailed down to the Chinaberry trees that lined the streets of Savannah to the different people who headed churches, ran stores, and were prominent citizens. The lists of people, places, streets, monuments, everything is truly remarkable. It's a Who's Who of the early 20th century tossed in with what kind of candy my GG Grandfather ate and how much it cost.
But there is one thing: translating this handwriting is very, very slowgoing. I've been using a Word document and I write down every word according to the lines. If I cannot decipher the writing, I put in (?). There are some lines where I'll have 2 words and then (?)(?)(?).
It's getting late, and my research assistant, Dahlia the rat terrier, is calling. We actually will meet a potential adopter tomorrow. I know I wanted her to get adopted; I thought we might have her longer. She is just the sweetest little blind thing.
More to come....(and please note, I'll be editing pages -- I know this is a rough draft, and today, it's just rough stuff to cover).
https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/world-21057494