This postcard was written to my grandmother, Pearl Reed, after a visit to two of her sisters in Benton Harbor, MI in 1909. Pearl was 23 and her niece was about 15. I wonder why she chose a picture of the Ohio Penitentiary.
Dear Pearl, I am glad you got home and I worst (sic) you were here know (sic). Margaret Busby
Miss Pearl Reed 2730 Kenwood Indianapolis, Indiana
I didn’t have any castles in my photo stash, but this morning I remembered this postcard of the Ohio Penitentiary that my grandmother Pearl’s niece sent to her in 1909. Surrounded by stone walls, like the castle below, it is my entry for Sepia Saturday 171. I did post this in 2010 but I don’t think anyone ever saw it, so here it is again. The Penitentiary was demolished in 1998. To see photos of then and now – including a photograph that shows a little tower – go to Old Ohio Penitentiary.
My father took many photographs that now help me document my family’s life. There are photographs houses, street scenes and my mother in San Francisco and Los Angeles. In Springfield, MA he took pictures of my sister, my mother, me and along with those of St. John’s Congregational Church and members. For the first few years after we moved back to Detroit, there were photos and then, he stopped taking pictures.
Taking photographs – 1940s.
A few months ago I noticed that my father took no more photographs of our family after we moved from 2212 Atkinson to 2254 Chicago Blvd. Pictures taken during that time were not taken at home. We were at one of my grandparents houses, or in Idlewild. And the photographer was not my father, my mother or other family members were. I wondered what happened during that time that made him stop.
In 1953, at the time we moved from Atkinson to the house on Chicago, there had just been a church split and my father, a minister, was involved in building a new church from the ground up, something he hadn’t done before. This involved finding a church building and raising the money to purchase it. New members had to be found and a program that would get those new members involved and feeling a part of the church, had to be developed. There were constant meetings at our house, a combination parsonage/church activity building. And my parent’s marriage was ending. My parents separated in 1954. Maybe, on top of everything else, his camera broke and he couldn’t afford to replace it because he kept donating his salary back to the church.
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You can see some of the photographs my father took in these earlier posts:
Today’s post is about the Michigan Freedom Now Party. My photographs were taken during the first convention, which took place in Detroit in September 1964. It was held at Central Congregational Church, now the Shrine of the Black Madonna. To read an interview with Henry Cleage about organizing the party and what happened during the election, click this link – Freedom Now Party,.
Freedom Now Party Convention.
On the far left, back of my sister’s head and the back of my head. Standing in the checked shirt is Oscar Hand. Behind Mr. Hand, in the white shirt, is Richard Henry (later Imari Obadele) Writing on the wall is Leontine Smith. Against the wall in the white dress is Annabelle Washington. I cannot name the others.
Henry Cleage reading platform. Grace Lee Boggs in left corner.
Preamble to the Freedom Now Party Platform
Four of the many candidates on the Michigan Freedom Now Party slate. From left to right: Loy Cohen, secretary of state; James Jackson, lieutenant governor ; Albert Cleage (later Jaramogi Abebe Agyeman), govenor and Milton Henry (later Gaide Abiodun Obadele), representative of the 14th Congressional District.
Black star line of Ghana in Rotterdam 22nd March 1980. Afram River <- click to see original photo.
The articles below originally appeared in the official organ of the Group on Advanced Leadership (GOAL), Now! News of Detroit and the World. It was published by Imari Obadeli, known as Richard Henry, at the time. It was printed at Cleage Printers, my uncle Hugh’s and Henry’s printing shop. The first article was written by my aunt Barbara Cleage Martin, who was Barbara Smith in 1964.
The only think I really remember about the Freedom School, which I attended between high school graduation and entering college, is the visit to the ship, the Afram River and the gift certificate to Vaughn’s Bookstore that my sister and I received for being #1 students. I don’t know what we did that made us outstanding.
Unfortunately, I don’t have the rest of the article, but I know that Marcus Garvey organized the first Black Star Line. You can read more about it here – The Black Star Line.
Freedom School posed photograph 1964.
I don’t have a photograph of myself with the Afram River. What were they thinking? We should have all been lined up next to the ship and photographed. It would have been a great photograph. This is the only photograph I have of myself that summer. I am seated on the left, front. Next to me is my cousin Dale Evans. The other seated person on the right is the twin of the young man standing next to my father on the right. Their sister is behind the seated twin. I can’t remember their names or the name of the other youth on that side. On the other side of my father (reading the book and then known as Rev. Albert B. Cleage, JR) is my cousin, Ernie. Next to him is my sister Pearl. I can’t remember the name of the person behind me on the end but I know she became an actor for at least awhile.
Back in November of 2011 I wrote Moving – Springfield to Detroit 1951 for Sepia Saturday 102. I mentioned that I remembered the little girls in the photograph, but I couldn’t remember their names. Well, I found them!
Moving day (note the boxed up stuff behind me) L to R: Kristin (me), Lynn, Sherrie, Pearl and in the back is Mrs. Johnson. I still have the rocking chair back there.
Left to right – Kristin (me), Lynn, Sherrie and Pearl
During February, I was working on a post about turtles I have owned, when I came across the photograph below.
Mr. and Mrs. Funn with me (Kristin) in front and my mother in the middle holding sister Pearl.
I recognized them as the Funns and realized that the other man’s name that I remembered from Springfield, “Lindsey”,must be the name of the father of the girls in the photographs. How could I find the last name? I decided to Google “Lindsey St. John’s Congregational Church, Springfield, MA”. The first item that came up gave me his last name, Johnson. I Googled “Lindsey Johnson, Springfield, MA” and came up with several articles. This was them! Sherrie was the oldest daughter, the one who poured milk in my dinner on that day so long ago. Below are some of the articles I found and some photographs of the Johnsons and also an article about Mr. Funn. Goggle and newspapers – it’s hard to beat them sometimes.
Articles about Lindsey Johnson and family. The house they talk about is the one I visited with my father in the winter 1968. Click to enlarge and read.
To see more posts about boxes and other things, click!
The photograph for today was taken during the Black Arts Convention in Detroit. It was 1966. I was 19 and Jim was 21. This was LaSalle Park, which was located a few blocks from my father’s church on Linwood. I don’t remember why this session was held at the park, but I do remember walking back to church where other closing activities were held.
Black Arts Convention 1966 at LaSalle Park, Detroit. That is Jim and me over in the lower left corner.
Me looking adoringly at Jim. Click to enlarge.
During that week, from Thursday through Sunday, The Black Arts Convention was held at Central United Church of Christ. There were workshops on the visual arts, theater, literature, religion and politics. There were arguments and sincere discussions. People from all over the country attended. I was going to write it all up, but I cut my finger last night while cooking dinner and typing is s-l-o-w today.
I am linking to this article, A Report On the Black Arts Convention, by Dudley Randall from The Negro Digest, Aug. 1966, on Google Books. It is a very good description of the convention.
A letter of thanks from “Forum ’66”, the group that organized the Black Arts Convention.
This is the 22nd post in the February Photo Collage Festival and a Sepia Saturday offering. Today I am sharing a mystery photograph from my Graham collection. This week’s prompt is “unknown people”.
I don’t know who they are. I assume they are friends of my grandparents from Montgomery, Alabama who spent the day beating carpets and then posed for this photo. The older woman doesn’t look very happy about any of it. I would date them in the early 1900s.
“We were beating carpets in the backyard and don’t we look like it.”
Verso of the photo above.
This seems to be the same family on a different day.
This is the 16th post in the February Photo Collage Festival and the Family History Writing Challenge. Today’s prompt includes a turtle tortoise. None the less, I am going to write about my experience with turtles. My sister and I owned several turtles when we were growing up. We always named them PJ and Pete and they always got soft shells and died. They lived in a little plastic turtle scape much like this one. We added small, colorful rocks to the bottom.
Their bowl sat on top of our bookcase in the bedroom. The room was bright but there wasn’t any direct sunshine there. The turtles were fed a diet of dried food that came in an orange little container. Sometimes we supplemented it with a fly we caught, or some lettuce. As the shells began to go soft, we would try to get them to drink some cod liver oil and moved their island home into the sunlight. All to no avail. They all died. I don’t remember any turtle funerals but there might have been at least one. Perhaps my sister will remember. Pearl says, yes we did bury some of them. I don’t remember being upset, or even minding, when they died.
Our mother didn’t want any real large pets, like cats or dogs, because nobody was home during the day. Maybe because both of her childhood dogs died rather sad deaths too. She was happy to buy us fish and turtles. I think the turtles replaced the fish because it was easier to keep their habitat clean. Once my sister and I took them out on the porch for a walk with strings tied around their shells. Not a big success.
I have since learned that turtles are salmonella carriers. Luckily we never had that problem. My children never had turtles for pets but my husband used to find turtles trying to cross the road and bring them home for them to see before releasing them into the nearby woods or lake. After writing this, I have to wonder if they were disoriented from being moved like this. In fact, this whole thing sounds like the torture of turtles.
My sister Pearl and I pretending to race on the upper front porch of the flat on Calvert. This was the house and the ages we were when we had turtles.
This is the 10th post in the February Photo Collage Festival and the Family History Writing Challenge, and the last post in the present series about the Hugh Marion Reed Averette family. Today I am going to write about Hugh Reed Averette’s US Navy experience.
Hugh joined the US Army on July 13, 1898 in Indianapolis, Indiana. He was discharged on November 13, 1898 in Willets Pointe, Queens, New York. He joined the US Navy a month later on December 8, 1898 in New York City. He worked as a Coal Passer on the USS Newark. The Newark saw action in South America and Asia. In 1900, Hugh was in China. Here is a description of the ship’s activity during the time Hugh was a member of the crew from The Dictionary of American Fighting Ships.
The USS Newark
Departing New York 23 March 1899, the cruiser steamed down the coast of South America on patrol, stopping at numerous ports along the way. In the middle of her cruise 7 April, she was ordered to proceed through the Straits of Magellan to San Francisco. The ship, low on coal, was forced to put into Port Low, Chile, from 31 May to 22 June to cut wood for fuel. Finally arriving Mare Island Navy Yard 4 September, Newark underwent repairs and then sailed 17 October via Honolulu for the Philippines arriving Cavite 25 November. The warship took station off Vigan, Luzon, landed troops for garrison duty, then moved on to Aparri 10 December, receiving the surrender of insurrectionists in the provinces of Cagayan, Isabela, and Bataan.
On 19 March 1900, she sailed for Hong Kong to rendezvous with monitor Monadnock 22 March and convoy that ship to Cavite, arriving 3 April and staying there until sailing for Yokohama 24 April, arriving 3 days later. The ship then hoisted the flag of Rear Admiral Louis Kempff, Assistant Commander of the Asiatic Station and sailed 20 May for China to help land reinforcements to relieve the legations tinder siege by the Boxers at Peking. Arriving Tientsin 22 May, Newark operated in that port and out of Taku and Chefoo, protecting American interests and aiding the relief expedition under Vice Admiral Seymour, R.N., until sailing at the end of July for Kure, Japan, and then Cavite where she hoisted the pennant of the Senior Squadron Commander in the Philippines. She sailed for home in mid-April 1901, via Hong Kong, Ceylon and Suez, arriving Boston late July 1901. She decommissioned there 29 July.
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Hugh Marion Reed Averette left the Navy on December 2, 1901, in Boston, Massachusetts. He returned to Indianapolis, Indiana and resumed life as a civilian.
No photos of me in the blizzard but this one of my sister and me was taken before I left. I’m the tall one with the blue scarf. Nanny is peeking out the window behind us.
This weeks prompt is fittingly snow. Forty four years ago today I was in the middle of the New York snowstorm of February 9, 1969. I was nearing the end of my cross country after college trip during which I was looking for somewhere to be besides “home”. I had just about figured out that I could be in Detroit without moving back home. As soon as the planes were flying again, I caught one back to Detroit. As I was riding the bus in from the airport I thought Detroit was the dirtiest city I had seen during the whole trip. Within a month I was out and on my own. Here is a letter I wrote home while the snow fell.
February 11, 1969 Sunday 3:30PM During a Blizzard
Dear Mommy and Henry,
I’m staying at the YWCA. It’s O.K. The room here is smaller then the one in San Francisco. The address is
YMCA Morgan Hall 132 E. 45th Street NYC, New York
Right now there’s a blizzard going on outside. I was out earlier to wash and I got soaked.
You can’t hardly see a block and it’s already at least 5 inches (maybe 3) and giving no sign of stopping. I talked to Pearl and she’s sending me a letter from you. She’s o.k. in case she hasn’t written. My job is o.k. dull though. I’m thinking of returning to Detroit in about a month but I’m not sure, I’ll let you know more about that as it happens. I discovered I’m spending all my time figuring how to meet people like those I already know at home and that didn’t make sense.
I think housing here is worse than anywhere else and so expensive for a condemned bldg. Even if I do come back to Detroit I’m glad I left and went all those places because now I know what they’re like and can quit wishing I was there and spend my time where I am. It’s like getting my ears pierced. For about 7 years I spent half my time wishing I could get them done then when I did, I didn’t have to think about it any more. How’s school? Write soon. Don’t worry about me. I’m not crazy or depressed.
Love, Kris
For other photos and stories of blizzards, snow storms and other interesting topics…
This postcard was written to my grandmother, Pearl Reed, after a visit to two of her sisters in Benton Harbor, MI in 1909. Pearl was 23 and her niece was about 15. I wonder why she chose a picture of the Ohio Penitentiary.
