Ransom Allen was the oldest son of Dock and Eliza (Williams) Allen. He was born free in Alabama about 1860. He and his 7 siblings grew up in Montgomery. He was my great grandmother Jennie’s older brother. His father was a carpenter. His mother was a seamstress. He became a barber.
In 1883 Ransom married Callie Whitaker in Troup County, GA. I don’t know how or where they met, but she was born in Georgia. In 1888 their son, John Wesley, was born in Montgomery. John was the only one of their three children to survive childhood.
The family relocated to Chicago, IL about 1917 where Ransom continued to barber and John worked as a Mechanic. John married Bobbie Conyer and their only son, Harold Thomas, was born in 1932 in Chicago, IL.
In 1933 Ransom’s wife Callie died. The following year Ransom died at age 74. Their only grandson died in 1946 at 14 years of age. That was the end of Ransom’s branch of Dock and Eliza’s family.
My first inclination on thinking of a post for this final episode of “Many Rivers To Cross” was to make a list and talk about all the things Gates didn’t mention. It was getting so long that I decided I wasn’t going to do that. This did spark a lively discussion between my daughters, my husband and myself on Thanksgiving Day.
There was something in my archives that related to this last episode directly – some clippings about “Detroit’s First Survival Day”, a food give-a-way by the Black Panther Party. I was never in the Panthers, I knew some of them and worked with some of them when I was part of the Black conscience Library. I showed a few films put out by the California branch. One line I remember about organizing, “… house by house, block by block, city by city across this racist nation…”. The Detroit Panthers were about 10 years younger than the leaders of the California Panthers. While Huey P. Newton was 30 in 1972, the Detroit Panthers were in their late teens and early 20s.
To read other African American bloggers posting about the “Many Rivers To Cross Series”, plus a link to my other posts in the series CLICK HERE!
In the latest episode of Many Rivers To Cross, the Great Migration was briefly discussed. It got me to thinking about my family who pretty much all left the south in the early 1900s. I wrote an earlier series about the Graham side of my family and their move from Montgomery, Alabama to Detroit in 1917. You can read about that at these links:
To continue the story, I will start by writing about my Grandfather Albert B. Cleage and his siblings move from Athens, TN to Indianapolis, IN and finally to Detroit, Michigan, with mention of Uncle Edward Cleage and his family who remained in Athens.
Next I will cover my Grandmother Pearl Reed Cleage and the Reed family’s move from Lebanon, KY first to Indianapolis in the 1890s and on to Benton Harbor and Detroit, Michigan, with Uncle Hugh (Reed) Averette moving out to Los Angeles California.
Finally I will write about Eliza and Dock Allen’s children leaving Montgomery for Chicago, Detroit and New York.
I wanted to add my husband’s family, not sure if I will write them up soon though. They started in Dermott, AR. Catherine Williams went to Seattle, WA. Vennie Jean Williams went to Arkadelphia. Sterling Williams spent time in Little Rock before going to Chicago. Chester and Theola (my in-laws) moved to St. Louis, MO. Members of both the Davenports and the Williams migrated to Chicago. Many relatives remained in rural AR, although none of my husband’s aunts or uncles.
As I write I will probably come up with stories within stories. This should provide me with writing material for weeks!
To see other posts I’ve written about this series , click this link My Responses to Many Rivers to Cross. You will also find links to other bloggers responding to this series by sharing their own personal family stories.
For those interested, I found the map I used at this site about the Great Migration.
These photographs were taken in the winter of 1958 at my Graham grandparent’s house on Theodore Street, East side of Detroit. My grandmother, Fannie Turner Graham, is looking through the side door. When you entered through this door you were on a landing, you could go down to the basement or up into the kitchen. The window with the lace curtain we can see above the door was on the landing between the downstairs and the upstairs. The phone sat on this landing on a little table my grandfather made. This table now sits near me holding several plants in the sunshine.
Nanny at the side door.
Poppy on the side of the house. You can see more of the side of the house here. Taken on the same day.
Front, Poppy and cousin Marilyn. Back, Kristin( that is me with my hand on Poppy’s head) and Pearl. I remember those green plaid scarves.
These photographs must have been taken soon after the Jordan’s house next door was bought by the factory across the street. The house was torn down, the trees were uprooted (we’re standing on a stump above), gravel was added and a parking lot was made. When these photos were taken, I was 12, my sister was 10, my grandparents were 70 and Marilyn was 5.
In St. Antoine the snow and sleet Whiten and glaze the drab old street And make the snow-clad houses gleam Like crystal castles in a dream. There, many swarthy people dwell; To some, ’tis heaven, to others, hell! To me the street seems like a movie stage Where Negros play and stars engage. They laugh and love and dance and sing While waiting the return of spring. Some drown their heart-aches deep In winter time on St. Antoine.
There, on the gutters frozen brink A dope-fiend lies, with eyes that blink And from a neighboring cabaret come sounds of song and music gay. At windows, tapping, here and there, Sit dusky maidens young and fair, With painted cheeks and brazen eyes. and silk clad legs crossed to the thigh Upon the icy pavements wide, Gay brown-faced children laugh and slide While tawny men in shiny cars Drive up and down the street like czars.
Into a church across the way There goes a bridal party gay. While down the street like a prairie-fire, Dash a bandit car and a cruising flyer. Around the corner whirls a truck, An old coal-peddler’s horse is struck; The horse falls on the frozen ground, The dark blood spouting from its wound. A motley crowd runs to the scene; A woman old, from shoulders lean, Unwraps a quilt her hands have pieced And spreads it o’er the shivering beast.
Among the swarthy folk who pass Along the slippery street of glass, Are some in furs and some in rags; Lovely women, wretched hags, White-haired migrants from the South; Some wrapped in blankets, pipes in mouth; Some smile while others seem to shiver, As though they long for Swanee River; But though they dream with tear wet eyes Of cotton-fields and sunny skies. They much prefer the heaven and hell On St Antoine, where free men dwell.
******
James Edward McCall
James Edward McCall was my Grandmother Fannie Turner Graham’s first cousin. He was a poet and a publisher. He lost his sight due to illness while a medical student at Howard University. He and his family migrated from Montgomery Alabama to Detroit Michigan about 1923.
Dr. Gamble died in 1948. Cousin Jan recently found part of a speech (page 1 is missing)that my grandfather Dr. Albert B. Cleage wrote for Dr. Gamble’s funeral. To read about his life follow this link Dr. Parker Blair Gamble – Solving Mysteries Part I. I wish I could have heard his famous laugh. Dr. Gamble is 3rd from the right in the header above. He is wearing a light suit. My grandfather is first on the right.
Dr. Gamble in front of Freedman’s Hospital. My grandparents are on the steps.
I decided to write about my maternal grandfather and the church he helped found in 1919, Plymouth Congregational Church. Please click on the images to enlarge them and read the articles below.
My grandparents, Mershell and Fannie (Turner) Graham met in the First Congregational Christian Church in Montgomery, Alabama. They were married there by Rev. Scott on June 14, 1919. After the ceremony, Mershell took his new bride back to Detroit to begin their new life. One thing that would be familiar was the worship service at the newly formed Plymouth Congregational Church.
Fannie and Mershell soon after their marriage in 1919.
When Mershell, migrated to Detroit from Montgomery, AL in 1917, many of his friends, were also leaving. In 1919, nine of them gathered together to form Plymouth Congregational Church. At first they met in members homes and in borrowed and rented spaces. In 1927 they were able to purchase their own building, a former Synagogue. They moved in May 15, 1927.
Plymouth Congregational Church at the corner of Garfield and Beaubien streets on the East Side of Detroit.After church about 1927. Mershell holding my mother Doris, Fannie standing behind Mary V. and Mershell Jr. in front.
Plymouth Congregational Church – September 30, 1928. Detroit, Michigan
Plymouth had been in the building about 1 year when this photo was taken. My grandfather, Mershell C. Graham, is standing behind his daughters, Mary V. and Doris (my mother). Their cousin, Margaret McCall, is standing between them. They are in the front row, towards the left side of center. The minister, Rev. Laviscount, is standing behind Mary V. My grandmother, Fannie, had just given birth to their youngest son, Howard, so she was not able to be there.
An article with some of the history of Plymouth Congregational Church.Mershell Graham’s name was misspelled as “Gardner” above.
My parents met at Plymouth’s youth group. My father was ordained there. In November of 1943, my parents were married at Plymouth by Rev. Horace White. On a visit home to Detroit while we were living in Springfield, MA, I was Baptized there, also by Rev. Horace White.
Invitation to my father’s Ordination.My grandmother Fannie, my grandfather Mershell and my mother Doris. I am standing on the table. I believe it was during this visit that I was Baptized at Plymouth.
Because I attended my father’s church on Sunday’s, I don’t have many memories of sitting in the pews at Plymouth. My memories are of going with my grandfather to fix thing, usually the furnace. My sister and my cousins and I would roam around the empty church while we waited for him to make the repairs.
Plymouth Congregational Church, now Plymouth United Church of Christ, was forced to relocate when the area was urban renewed in order to build the Medical Center in the 1970s. White churches were allowed to remain in the area while black churches were forced to relocate. The new church is located at 600 E. Warren Ave. and continues in use by Plymouth today.
Recently I posted about my Cleage grandparent’s household in 1950. I wondered what they had paid for the house when they bought it the year before. Information sent to me by my ever helpful cousin Jan shows that the price was $12,600.
In 1943 my Uncle Louis Cleage and family friend, Paul Payne bought some lots in Idlewild, Michigan. Idlewild is a black resort located in the Manistee National Forest in Lake County. It’s 5 hours north of Chicago and 4 hours northwest of Detroit. Lake Michigan is half an hour away at Ludington. I’ve posted some photographs, documents and letters showing the progress of the original cottages. They did much of the work themselves. If you find the letter my grandfather wrote back to Detroit hard to read, scroll down to the transcription below.
Original cottage under construction.
Dr. Albert B. Cleage, my grandfather.Louis Cleage on the patio.Paul Payne in Idlewild.On the dock looking at Lake Idlewild.
During WW 2, two of my uncle’s were conscientious objectors and farmed near Avoka, MI. They had milk cows and chickens, among other things. Their younger sister sold the eggs in Detroit around the neighborhood. While she was up in Idlewild, she needed someone at home – her mother – to handle the egg route. Like a paper route, but with eggs. Read more here.
P.S. “Pee Wee” speaking. My egg route book is in my room on the table in the small bookshelf. You know that black book, don’t you? Oh, yes, add Mrs. Duncan on Scotten to Monday’s list.
7/29/1944 Idlewild of Idle men and wild women.
Dear Folks –
We arrived about 2 o’clock. The trip was uneventful except for rain – on and off. Mrs. Hedgeman and Stith were here when we arrive just about ready to leave. Cottage is nice, was awfully cold and gloomy out. The rain seems over now and we are hoping for a brighter, warmer and happier day tomorrow.
The girls are now investigating the yard, lake, boats, etc. Gladys and I crossed the continent and visited the cottage with bad writing of J.L. Cleage and Payne – well, will say you have a nice location with huge possibilities. Nice beachhead etc, and hedgerows.
House is wired, but electricity has not been brought in from road. I have seen Mr. Ellison. He was not in when I first went but talked to the man who was and he wired it. He stated could not get the wire for bringing it into the house on account of it being a “tourist” cabin; and he didn’t think would be able to get it this year.
Later saw Mr. Ellison who said he would see about it again Monday and let me know what he can do. I will also see the Edison Co. if possible and urge the emergency toward the war effort etc.
There don’t seem to be many people here. However it is so cold they maybe in the house. Hope everything is alright. We will get the boat tomorrow. Everything will be ok. Write further instructions, if any – Anna Celia’s egg route book in her room on bookshelf –
Daddy
Starting work on the new cottage.Sketch on envelopeThe original cottage.The forms with the new patio. New cottage.Old stairs on the left. They were made of logs set in the sand. The new steps you can see on the right, all cement and even and smooth.
