My grandfather wrote in his little notebook in 1940,
“Bonzo taken away by Humane Society Sept. 3rd 1940 $1.00 donation made. This dog was about 12 years old.”
In this photograph my mother, Doris was 10 years old. Bonzo must be about 5. They are in the backyard of my grandparents house on the east side of Detroit. Bonzo was an outside dog and had a place under the porch to sleep and get out of the weather. He went through the cold winters there. When he was taken away by the Humane Society he was suffering terribly from rheumatism.
Before my mother’s family had Bonzo, they had a dog named Toodles. Toodles was allowed in the house sometimes because once, when there was company and he was in the basement, he fell down the steps and, as I remember the story, broke his neck. Which is why Bonzo always stayed in the yard.
For more fine old photographs, some of girls and animals, click on the link below.
A letter written home to Detroit by my parents on New Year’s Eve, 1944. My father was studying Cinema with the plan to use it in his ministry in the future.
The inside of the bulletin from the New Year service.
2130 S. Hobart Blvd. #4 Los Angeles 7, California December 31, 1944
Hi Folks: (HAPPY NEW YEAR)
Well it’s New Year’s Eve…10:25 p.m. here…so we’re waitin’ for the New Year…and its 1:25 a.m. there… so you-all are already into 1945. I suppose you-all had a little Coffee-Ice-Cream and Tuna-fish salad n’ that celebration.. and since Hugh was in for Christmas I suppose Henry was in… leavin’ po’ little Hugh out at Plum Nelly by his lonesome. We just finished supper and my “worster-half” is stretched out on the couch reading Soroyan’s “Human Comedy”. I can’t remember whether you-all read it or not. If not get it (Barbara) cause it’s good… in its own way. Henry and Hugh ought to like it.
I preached this morning at the Congregational Church. The minister, Reverend Galloway went up to some “Snow Mountain” with his young-people for some sort of New Year’s Conference. He asked me sort of late… but Doris made me do it…so I did. We had sort of a time getting ready at the last minute n’ that. Doris had to put my one still presentable suit back together with a needle and thread (they all fell to pieces at the same time) … and press my robe which I haven’t used since leaving Lexington… and I had to “prepare my message” Saturday night. We got to bed about three A.M…and got up at eight-thirty because it takes about an hour to get down off of Sugar-Hill and across town to the East Side…on the Streetcar.
Major Dean assisted me in the Pulpit as a Deacon and introduced me to the Congregation (again). See enclosed Bulletin. I arrived at 11:03 (late as usual)…Me and the choir rushed in at the same time. (Negroes is Negroes the world over…like Daddy’s Fried Chicken) The service went very well…and the attendance was very good in spite of the absence of the young-people…bigger crowd than the other times we’ve been present. I brought them a powerful New Year’s Message (which I will have Doris describe in detail in as much as I’m modest!) After the service the people were very nice…invited us to the annual church supper and that. Mrs. Dean was present and threatened to have us over soon. She said that she’s been ill for the past three months…and has planned to write you-all for lo these many months but… first one thing and then another n’ that. Her brother Captain York has been sick in the hospital for some several months…but seems to be improving she said. A young woman and her little son of about six (or so) joined the church under the power of the message and that. The officers didn’t quite know what to do when they said they wanted to join but we finally fellowshipped them N’ that. Everyody was very nice but all neglected to mention the customary “HONORARIUM”… which, of course, I didn’t mention…but thought about nevertheless!
(Handwritten note by my mother along the side of the letter:)
Dear Folks, Wish you all could have been at Church this morning. Toddy preached one of the best sermons he’s ever preached – and that I’ve ever heard. A very simple theme – Text: “the Kingdom of God comes not with observation; the Kingdom of god is within you” – with his own pecular interpretation and illustration. It was good. Thank you for the lovely Christmas presents and a very Happy New Year.
P.S. After the sermon “Montgomery” rose as a body and testified for the reverend. My aunt Gwen’s cousin from Alabama said, “I have been in Los Angeles six weeks and I belong to the Episcopalian church, but this is the first time since I’ve been here that I really feel like I’ve been to church.” Amen!
This is the final page of the letter my father wrote home on Christmas Day, 1944. He talks about wanting to come back to Detroit and various ideas he has for finding a church there. It would be another 8 years before he made it back to Detroit as pastor of St. Marks Presbyterian Church. That is a post for another day.
Last night (Christmas eve n’ that) we practically decided to return to Detroit in July and organize some sort of a church there. We ain’t too particular…Congregational, Presbyterian..Triumph, the Church and the Prophet…or what have you. Perhaps a Presbyterian would be best…in as much as Daddy and Uncle Henry could then talk someone out of some sort of a building! could it it be done…you-all? (or do we just want to come home) if it was Presbyterian I would try to get something over in the Bible-belt with Rev. White…and the rest…you know over there with Bethel…Plymouth…etc. Buddy would be glad to look around for me…he loves to transact big business. (He looked up that big church at the end of Scotten at Grand River for me earlier…The Real EstateCompany sent me
full particulars…95 thousand will handle and that…so we had to sort of let it go…since they wouldn’t take fifty dollars down and rent it! Said they didn’t care who they sold it too however…long as the money was available. But back to the subject…my mind wanders…there is a modest little Church on Forest near John R. (I think…it could be Warren) which is almost unused…I think a few lingering white-folks still worship there…brick…and not bad looking..but small oughtn’t cost too much. If you-all (at a family council assembled) think such an undertaking wouldn’t be too foolish…
Church at John R. and Forest from Google street view today.
I’ll get Buddy to look up the Trustees or whatever there is and see what they want for it. WILL THE UNITED PRESBYTERIANS DO ANYTHING TO SUPPORT SUCH A VENTURE!!! Well let me know…I’m barkin’ up many a tree…tryin to uncover something or other OUT OF THE SOUTH (my stomach ulcers don’t thrive so well in Dixie…the fog is too heavy or something). And I seem to be headin’ for Detroit both consciously and unconsciously it seems like ‘twould be better to just go on and get it over with! But perhaps ’tis just Christmas. Lee, the Boy who was by today wants me to go in partnership with him in a Portrait Photographic Studio down on Central Avenue. He can get some money (Wants me to get some…but can get it all if I want to work for him I’d like to know what you-all think of the church idea, though…FIRST! HOW LONG WOULD IT TAKE SOMEBODY TO FIND OUT WHAT THE PRESBYTERIAN BOARD WOULD DO IF ANYTHING! If nothing can be done…I’ll continue my gentle hints to the Congregational brethern in Philadelphia that they enter the field of Mission work. Them dern Congregationalists are so lacking in enthusiasm, however, it’s like pulling eye-teeth. (I am not again indicating my indecision…I’m talking about next summer…by which time I will have all the CINEMA they have here…and would be ready to go to New York for a Doctorate..if I could get to New York… If I could get a church IN THE NORTH, never fear, I would use my CINEMA. I would build the biggest youth organization in America right around CINEMA PRODUCTION and its allied arts!) So there…I am not changing my mind again! Well so-long…Write sometime you-all!
Now that the holiday rush is past I’m getting caught up on my blog reading. I hope that you had a wonderful Christmas.
I really enjoyed reading this letter. It’s fun to read your father’s thoughts as he thinks about how to organize a church in Detroit–and I’m looking forward to future posts about how he eventually gets back there.
Here is my Uncle Henry Cleage with his adoring mother, Pearl. Henry was born March 22, 1916, the third of my grandparents 7 children. He always told us his nickname was “Happy”. He looks pretty happy here. Henry grew up to be an attorney, a printer, an editor, a writer, a farmer and a philosopher. Not in that particular order. He lived until 1996, when he died from cancer.
Click the logo for more photographs of mother’s and children and other exciting subjects. –>
I found this photograph in my Graham album. I have no idea who it is. I don’t know who’s sister it is. I know it isn’t my grandmother Fannie’s sister because I would recognize them. I don’t think it’s my grandfather Mershell’s sister because as far as I know she was a servant with several children by 1918. I looked for information about nursing schools for African Americans Kansas City, MO. in 1918 and turned up nothing, but Zann, a friend of mine, found several short pieces and some photos of the General Hospital for Negroes in Kansas. The uniforms the nurses are wearing look like the same uniforms. So, here is my mystery nurse for this weeks Sepia Saturday.
I can’t make most of this out very well, but here is what I make of it “Made in K.C. Mo. but just found a duplicate and had this developed – 10-10-1918. Over……….your….F. A dm………Normal Ala.”
I was born in Springfield, Massachusetts and lived there until I was almost 5. We moved in April of 1951 when my father got a church in Detroit, Michigan. Here we are on moving day, my sister and I, with two little girls I knew then but I don’t remember their names. I have a photo of the oldest girl, my sister and myself, standing on the parsonage porch. I also have a memory of the oldest girl pouring milk in my dinner, which I wasn’t going to eat anyway, but still… we were sitting at the little table in our room eating. My mother said if I’d eaten it in a timely fashion it wouldn’t have happened. No sympathy there. I remember another time when this little girl hit me and my mother told me if I didn’t hit her back, my mother was going to hit me. I hit her back. Don’t remember that she ever hit me again.
Me, sisters I cannot remember the names of, my sister Pearl
I saw them one more time, after we moved to Detroit. In the winter of 1967 my father returned to Springfield to preach for the Men’s Club. I went with him. We also went to New York on this trip where I bought my first pair of bell bottom jeans. My grandmother was so disappointed that I didn’t get a nice dress. But that isn’t this story. I remember the living quarters in the parsonage seemed so small on this trip. Nobody was living in them at the time. I’m sure the next minister got the congregation to move him back into separate quarters. We stayed with the family of these two girls. I was 20 so they were probably 20 and 18. The oldest one was going to a party. Well, actually she wasn’t going to the party, she was going to meet her boyfriend there and they were going elsewhere. Her father had forbidden her to see this boy. I was never a big party person and I sure didn’t want to be left at a strange party with a bunch of strangers. Needless to say, I didn’t go. The adults tried to persuade me that it would be “fun”. Ha. I didn’t give away her plan but I didn’t go. Wish I could remember her name, I’d look her up on facebook and see what she remembers about any of this.
I’m bringing this one back for Sepia Saturday this week because the theme has a car from about the same time period, give or take a year or two. I think my grandmother is wearing the same type hat as the woman who is looking at the car. A later photograph of the same car has “Lexington” written across the back. You can see that one here The Lexington.
Barbara, Albert Jr, Gladys, Anna, Mother Pearl and Father Albert about 1928.
My Aunt Gladys sends word by her daughter that “It was a Lincoln, could fit all nine plus a dog or two, the second row faced the back and the back row faced the front. she’s not sure where the photo was taken. It is big ain’t it! must be the precursor to the limo! She doesn’t think it’s Bell Isle, and it’s not Athens(TN). She thinks it might be the Meadows, that’s the only place with the trees and all the grass. Barbara looks like a miniature flapper!
In 2009 Alan Burnett and Kate Mortensen founded Sepia Saturday. This week we celebrate it’s 100th week of existence. I contributed my first post to Sepia Saturday #48 on November 7, 2010. Since then I have usually been a “themer” and enjoy coming up with something from my family photograph collection related to whatever theme Alan comes up with each week. I also enjoy seeing what others come up with. I have chosen to celebrate the occasion by posting 100 photographs of my father, who would have been 100 years old this year.
Albert Cleage is Dead at 88; Led Black Nationalist Church
Published February 27, 2000
Bishop Albert B. Cleage, who after the urban riots of the 1960’s built his Detroit church, the Shrine of the Black Madonna, into an important center for black theology and political power, died on Feb. 20 in Calhoun Falls, S.C. He was 88.
Bishop Cleage died while visiting Beulah Land, his church’s new farm, where he planned to raise food for the needy and give city youths peaceful summer vacations.
The bishop, who changed his name in the early 1970’s to Jaramogi Abebe Agyeman, presided for more than three decades at the Shrine of the Black Madonna, originally a Congregational church. The change came in the late 1960’s.
There were other black secessionist churches but Bishop Cleage’s became one of the biggest and most influential emphasizing black interpretations but retaining some traditional Protestant teachings.
Bishop Cleage was also drawn to politics. in 1973, Black Slate Inc., his political organization, helped Coleman A. Young become the first black mayor of Detroit, and the bishop was important in the careers of United States Representative Carolyn Cheeks Kilpatrick, Democrat of Michigan; former United States Representative Barbara-Rose Collins; and blacks who ran for smaller offices.
“He taught me the importance of organizing,” Ms. Kilpatrick said, “and he created networks of political activists that continue to have a profound impact on Detroit’s political landscape.”
Bishop Cleage became a focus of national attention during the 1968 Detroit riot, when 43 people were killed, and in the turbulent years afterward. Splitting with both the white power structure and more moderate black leaders, he emphasized black separatism in economics, politics and religion.
“The basic problem facing black people is their powerlessness,” he said. “You can’t integrate power and powerlessness.”
Trying to counter what he saw as white domination of religion, Mr. Cleage espoused a gospel of black nationalism. He installed a larger-than-life painting of a black Madonna holding a black baby Jesus, radical for its time, and preached that Jesus was a black revolutionary whose identity as such had been obscured by whites.
“That was the beginning of a whole new religious iconography” said Menelik Kimathi, chief executive officer of the Shrine of the Black Madonna. Mr. Kimathi, who joined a shrine youth group 30 years ago, added, “I think his legacy will be that he founded black liberation theology, the idea that the church could be more relevant to the day-to-day concerns of the community.”
The Rev. Jim Holley, pastor of Little Rock Baptist Church in Detroit, said: “He brought a black consciousness to the church community like it never had been brought before. And it translated into politics.”
In 1968, Life magazine called Bishop Cleage one of “the men who are speaking to black America,” along with Jesse Jackson, Julian Bond, Eldridge Cleaver and Dick Gregory.
The bishop was national chairman of the Black Christian Nationalist Church, an umbrella organization for similar churches, and he wrote “The Black Messiah” (1969) and “Black Christian Nationalism”(1972).
Albert Cleage was born in Indianapolis on Jun 13, 1911. his physician father moved the family to Detroit, and in 1937 the son received a sociology degree from Wayne State University. He received a divinity degree from Oberlin College, then served churches in Lexington Ky.; San Francisco; and Springfield, Mass. In 1951, he became pastor of St. Mark’s Community Church in Detroit, and two years later he formed the Central United Church of Christ, which later became the shrine.
Though he had believed in integration — some of the churches he served were racially mixed — Bishop Cleage came to despair of the hope that whites would ever willingly help blacks advance. He also befriended Malcolm X, the Muslim leader, who had Michigan roots.
Bishop Cleage’s vision of a church reemphasized social service programs reached out to young people and marched for civil rights. He organized black-owned businesses like grocery stores and bookstores, and built hundreds of units of housing.
All this activity made him frightening to many whites.
“When we take over, don’t worry,” he once responded. “We’ll treat you like you treated us.”
He later founded other shrines, including major ones in Atlanta and Houston. Today, Mr. Kimathi said, the church has about 50,000 members nationally.
In the 1970’s, Bishop Cleage backed out of the national spotlight to concentrate more on church programs and working with young people. In the late 80’s and much of the 90’s, he lived in Houston, then returned to Detroit.
Bishop Cleage married Doris Graham in 1943; they divorced in 1955. His survivors include their two daughters, Pearl Cleage of Atlanta and Kristin Williams of Idlewild, Mich.; three sisters; a brother; six grandchildren, and one great-grandchild.
As soon as I saw this weeks prompt for Sepia Saturday, I thought of this photograph. I decided to revisit an old post from Henry’s journal, written during several months of 1936, where he mentions playing the bass at a club.
January 11
Awoke to find that I had lost 2 dollars very depressed. Wrote on theme. Played tonight at Quinn’s Lone Pine with Duke Conte, played bass, terrible night. Fingers sore. Noticed how good-looking Lene is… Ought to throw a line – Police stopped us at about 1:00AM. No permit to play until two. I was glad. Very animal acting bunch in River Rouge. Most of them seem friendly though.
January 12
Played matinee dance at Elks rest with Heckes, Toddy and Bill – Dracee’s band came in and sat in awhile (no trouble) Kenneth was there. Too tired and sleepy to study history. Get up early tomorrow (no English) Toddy is going downtown to get some books is supposed to get me ‘American Tragedy” and ‘Bartlett’s Familiar Quotations”
January 13
Haliver Greene died this morning -spinal meningitis. Didn’t get up early to study History, however there was no class – lecture tomorrow so I won’t slide, tonight. Toddy bought back two books about lives of Educators (putrid!!) only 25 cents a piece though – awfully windy out today-not so cold thought – like March. I would like to have been in the country, wrapped up good, walking into the wind at the Meadows, down the road towards the sand pile or over the hill to the creek – zest, spice, life, health, clear eye, firm step and all that sort of thing.
January 14
Cold out this morning although it became somewhat spring like after school. Went to show after school. Another big fight this morning, I think they think I skip classes because I am sleepy, nonsense. Bought ‘Bartlett’s Quotations” $1.53. Seems worthwhile. Read one of dictator books – Good – tonight as I was going to the store the weather brought memories of spring. Roller-skating in street, if not roller skating then walking. Everybody walking and friendly. The crowd at Krueger’s and the tent. Perhaps riding through Belle isle – water, boats.
My grandmother, Pearl Doris Reed, was born in Lebanon, Kentucky in 1886. She the youngest of the seven children of Anna Allen Reed. Pearl’s father was Buford Averitt, a white physician. By 1888 Pearl’s oldest brother, George, had moved to Indianapolis Indiana to work at Van Camps cannery. The rest of the family soon followed.
My grandfather Albert Buford Cleage, Sr was born in Louden, Tennessee in 1883. He was the youngest of the five children of Louis and Celia (Rice) Cleage. The family eventually moved to Athens Tennessee. In 1906 he graduated from Knoxville College and moved to Indianapolis to attend Purdue University College of Medicine. Three of his older siblings were already there. He moved in with his brother Jacob and his wife Gertrude. His brother Henry also lived in the house.
Albert and Pearl met at church. They both signed the petition to organize a United Presbyterian Church on April 30, 1907. Pearl sang in the church choir and also at community and church events. By the time I heard her sing she had a frail, old voice. I wish I could have heard her back in her prime. In 1907 Pearl was 21. Albert was 24.
The courtship lasted for three years. Pearl’s mother was against the relationship because she thought Albert was “too dark”. Of course this caused problems with them meeting and going anywhere together. Many letters were exchanged and they met at church functions. Their houses were about 2.3 miles apart. It was a straight trolley ride down N. Illinois in those days. Today that would be a 23 minute ride by bus. I imagine it took a bit longer by trolley in the early 1900s.
As Albert neared the end of his course of study, his thoughts turned to where he would practice and to their marriage. They set the date for October, 1910. He graduated in June and as an intern was appointed to the City Hospital. On September 2 he received his Physicians License and on September 29, 1910 Albert and Pearl applied for a marriage license. Later that day, they were married in a quiet ceremony at Pearl’s house. The Indianapolis Star column “News of Colored Folk” contained this item,
“In the presence of relatives and immediate friends of the two families Dr. Albert B. Cleage, Intern at the City Dispensary and Miss Pearl D. Reed, 2730 Kenwood Avenue were married at noon Thursday. The Rev. D.F. White of the Witherspoon United Presbyterian Church officiated. Immediately after the ceremony Dr. and Mrs. Cleage left on their wedding tour, during which they will visit the Appalachian Exposition at Knoxville, Tenn., and points farther south.” The points farther south would have been his family’s home in Athens, Tennessee.
Another piece News of Colored Folk, dated Oct. 2, 1910 said, “The Witherspoon United Presbyterian Church and Sunday school gave a linen shower Friday evening in honor of Dr. and Mrs. Albert Cleage at the home of Mr. and Mrs. R.A. Kelley 1917 Highland Place. Dr. and Mrs. Cleage have returned recently from their bridal trip to Knoxville, Tenn, and are at home at 913 Fayette street.”
The add in the lower corner of the collage above has several pictures of women in traveling suits and big hats. The photograph of my grandmother over it shows her wearing a similar suit and hat, although not quite as flamboyant. Although this photograph was taken later in 1910 at a medical convention, I imagine this is the outfit she wore for her wedding tour. The little blue house is the one they came home to on Fayette street and the photo in the corner shows two women and my grandfather and my very happy looking grandmother at the medical convention later that year.
My grandparents ended up in Detroit where my grandfather practiced medicine and they raised their seven children. They were together 46 years, until my grandfather’s death in 1956. There are 9 grandchildren, 21 great grandchildren and 20 great great grandchildren. We’ve spread out over the United States and Canada.
This is a Sepia Saturday offering and an entry in the Fall Marriages Genealogy Carnival.
One Response to Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories – Christmas Day 1944 – Part 3
Kristin,
I know I’ve said before that you come by the writing gene naturally. It’s such a part of your family’s heritage. Beautiful!
Kathy, You got here! Good to see your comment.
A letter written on Christmas Day shows his dedication. These days people don’t seem to write letters other than the ’round robins’ that I hate.
Perfect fit for the theme. I can’t wait to hear the rest of the story unfold.
I love the determination, vision, and hope. A wonderful letter.
Now that the holiday rush is past I’m getting caught up on my blog reading. I hope that you had a wonderful Christmas.
I really enjoyed reading this letter. It’s fun to read your father’s thoughts as he thinks about how to organize a church in Detroit–and I’m looking forward to future posts about how he eventually gets back there.