Williams mag rough2 by Emma Agnew

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The 40th Annual Williams Family Reunion August 4-7, 2016 Memphis, TN

Theme: Getting To Know Your Family Thursday

3:00 p.m. Arrival & Hotel Check-in Join Team Memphis in the Hospitality Suite - Until 9:00 p.m. Salad Bar and Smoothie Bar, meet and greet. Find out who your reunion buddy will be for the weekend! Friday Celebrate Memphis You will have the day to explore Memphis on your forget to check-in with your reunion buddy. Suggestions will be provided by Team Memphis

6:00 p.m. Banquet – An All White Affair: Join us on the red carpet and strike a pose for the paparazzi. There will be plenty of family photo opps, so make sure those cell phone and camera batteries are fully charged! Talent show for the brave, the talented, and the not so talented. Join in as Emma leads a discussion about her research and book. Saturday “Back to My Roots Tour” 10:00 Depart Hotel Mt. Sinai Cemetery – Several of our ancestors attended Mt. Sinai Church and are buried in Mt. Sinai Cemetery Wesley Cemetery – another cemetery where several ancestors are buried.

First Baptist Keeling Cemetery – A third ancestoral cemetery

Oak Hill Farms - We will end our tour at Oak Hill. Oak Hill is the plantation where most (probably all) of our Maclin slave ancestors were enslaved (Lucy Maclin was Grandma Emily’s mother) 1:00 Lunch at Gus’s World Famous Fried Chicken – You haven’t had fried chicken until you eaten Gus’s chicken. This is where it all started – and guess what we found out—they are family! 2:30 Depart for Hotel

4:00 Family Meeting 6:00 Celebrate Pam's 29th Birthday! Join Pam & Regina for Cake & Ice Cream Evening Free Sunday Hotel Checkout 8:00 Betty Celebrates 10 years Cancer-Free! Woo Whoo! Go Betty! The Codys invite you to join them for a “Pink Breakfast” 10:30 Depart for Greater Bush Grove

1:00 Memorial Service for Esterine Williams Burial of Time Capsule Depart

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Contents

Image Caption: Mirum est notare quam littera gothica, quam nunc putamus parum claram, anteposuerit litterarum formas humanitatis per seacula quarta decima et quinta decima.

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Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, ďŹ ant sollemnes in futurum. Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem. Investigationes demonstraverunt lectores legere me lius quod ii legunt saepius. Claritas est etiam processus dynamicus, qui sequitur mutationem gothica consuetudium lectorum. Mirum est notare quam littera gothica. ypi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem. Investigationes demonstraverunt lectores legere me lius quod ii legunt saepius. Claritas est etiam processus dynamicus, qui sequitur mutationem.

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Contents 44 Feature Title Name Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis

videntur parum clari, ﬁant sollemnes in futurum. Typi non habent.

55 Feature Title Name Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis

videntur parum clari, ﬁant sollemnes in futurum. Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legeniis qui facit eorum claritatem.

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Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, ﬁant sollemnes in futurum. Typi non habent claritatem

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Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, ﬁant sollemnes in futurum. Typi non habent claritatem

33 Feature Title Name Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur

parum clari, ﬁant sollemn in futurum. Typi non claritatem insitam; est usus lege is qui facit eorum claritatem.

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A pull-quote gives any layout an extra punch and helps break up large bodies of text.

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In This Issue 10

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Eodem modo typi, qui nunc nobis videntur parum clari, ﬁant sollemnes in futurum. Typi non habent claritatem insitam; est usus legentis in iis qui facit eorum claritatem.

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Charles Eddie Williams .

Charles Eddie Williams My siblings and I have often joked about how our father, Charles Williams, had us convinced that we were not poor. He would say to us “We may not have much money, but we are not poor!” As we became older, we would laugh and say daddy had brain washed us, and that we were adults before we realized we were, indeed, poor. But you know what? As we became mature adults (we are all over 55 now), we understand what daddy meant. As it turns out, he was right, we were not poor afterall—we were anything but. My dad, dropped out of school in the 11th grade, due to unfortunate circumstances, which I won’t go into here. He later married my mother, Elmira Middlebrook and they were married for 37 years, until he died in 1976. My daddy was one of, if not the most humble, God-fearing man I have ever known. He loved God and raised all nine of his children to love God as well. Sunday morning devotion was the norm at the Williams household. We would sing, daddy would pray, and each of us would recite a Bible verse from memory. I don’t remember NOT going to church. We grew up in the church! When we became teenagers and wanted to go out on the weekend, we could go out as long as we got up and went to church that Sunday morning. If you missed church one Sunday or had trouble getting out of bed the following Sunday, you could forget about going out the next weekend. Daddy didn’t believe in getting up on Sunday washing or ironing an outfit for church, you had better take care of that before you head out on Saturday. My father was very active in church and the community. He was an active 33rd Degree Mason, a member of the local Political Action Committee, and other local groups. He was a deacon and Sunday School Superintendent for many years, and also worked with the Baptist Training Union (BTU). I loved to her my daddy sing an old-fashioned Dr. Watt. You could feel the power and anointed of the Holy Spirit. “Father I stretch my hands to thee; No other help I know If thou withdraw thyself from me; Oh whither shall I go?”

Grandpa Eddie is a missing piece of the paternal puzzle. He died very young at age 22, while Grandma Betty was pregnant with my dad. With the exception of very limited census data and a marriage certificate, I have not been able to locate any other information on Grandpa Eddie. Of particular interest and value is the missing death certificate. Grandpa Eddie was the son of John Williams and Fannie Shaw. He had a younger sister name Anna. Anna was 12 years younger than Eddie, and she most likely had a different father than John. John’s Father was Atlas Williams, our great great grandfather. Atlas Williams I believe Atlas Williams to be Joe Pluma. Daddy often told the story about his great grandfather, Joe Pluma. It seems Joe was a favored and trusted slave on the plantation. It was not uncommon for the master to send Joe into town with cash to shop or deposit in the bank. Well on this particular occasion, when the master sent Joe into town with cash, Ole Joe just kept right on going! That’s right...he ran away! He ran away from Virginia to Arkansas, changed his name to Atas Williams and stated a family!

The Williams family lineage is one generational. We were told this to be the case because Eddie Williams The Bible teaches us in James 5:16 that the fervent prayers was an only son of an only son. According to census of the righteous availeth much. I am convinced that our data, Atlas Williams had one son, John; who had one family is still living on the fervent prayers of Charles son, Eddie; who had one son, Charles. I believe this Williams and his ancestors. supports the Joe Pluma story enough, to add it to this history. The good news is, of course, Charles Williams Charles Williams was an ethical, humble and hard working broke the ‘one-son syndrom’ and had five sons. ................................................................................................................................................................................................... man. He worked hard right up until the day he died from 8 complications from an automobile accident. He was a proud man, but not too proud to do what was necessary to support his family. Proof Copy: Not optimized for high quality printing or digital distribution

Emma Agnew

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GREAT GREAT GRANDPA ANTHONY (ANDY) Skilled tracker, medicine man, devoted father, wonderful grandfather FLOWERS Anthony (Andy Flowers) It was believed that my maternal great great grandfather, Anthony Flowers, was a full-blooded Cherokee Indian; However, the 1870 and the 1880 Census lists Anthony Flowers as ‘Negro’. I am convinced, therefore, that Grandpa Anthony (Andy) Flowers was at least half Native American or half Caucasian. After all, for a rumor to start that he was Cherokee, he must have had some resemblance to a Native American.

Grandpa Anthony bought Grandma Sarah out of slavery for the sum of a few horses. Grandma Sarah was a short, round, dark skinned woman. She died from a gunshot wound while trying to break up a fight. She and Grandpa Anthony had five sons and four daughters. One of which was my Great Grandfather, Charlie.

The history of the Cherokee Indians and African slaves was a complex one. More complex than I care to research at this point. The Cherokee were once slaves themselves. They also held slaves much like the Europeans. They worked with the Europeans to return runaway slaves, and to a lesser degree, accepted African/ Cherokee children into their tribes. So it is highly possible that at most Grandpa Andy was a Cherokee Indian, or at the least a Cherokee of mixed blood (Black or White). The undocumented oral stories about Grandpa certainly suggests one or the other. Based on stories passed down by his grandchildren, Grandpa Anthony was a skilled tracker, medicine man, devoted father, and a wonderful grandfather. The story is told that when Grandpa Anthony would come for a visit, he had this call he would do that could be heard from miles away. The grandchildren would get excited because they knew that noise meant that grandpa would be there tomorrow. Grandpa Anthony was a skilled tracker and scout. The Confederate Army tried to recruit him on more than one occasion, but he refused. He wanted no part of helping the Confederate soldiers defeat the North. He became concerned for his life if he kept refusing to work for the Confederacy, or perhaps he was threatened. So he hid out in the woods for several weeks. His wife great great grandmother, Sarah, sent my great grandfather, Charlie, to take food to Grandpa Anthony every day. One day while delivering the food to Grandpa Anthony, Grandpa Charlie was bitten by a venomous snake. After removing the venom and mixing a potion from leaves he gathered from the woods, Grandpa Anthony dug a hole in the ground and put Grandpa Charlie in it and covered him with dirt up to his neck. This was the equivalent of an ice bath and served to lower Grandpa Charlie’s fever. Grandpa Anthony bought Grandma Sarah out of slavery 10 for the sum of a few horses. Grandma Sarah was a short, round, dark skinned woman. She died from a gunshot wound while trying to break up a fight. She Proof Copy: Not optimized for high quality printing or digital distribution and Grandpa Anthony had five sons and four daughters.

GREAT GRANDPA CHARLIE FLOWERS

He became concerned for his life if he kept refusing to work for the Confederacy

Remembering Daddy Nathan Williams As for me: I recall an incident when I left one of daddy's files outside overnight. Somehow he determined that I was the guilty party. He probably just asked me. As you may recall, lying to momma and daddy was not an option, not like the children of today. He let me have it for leaving that file outside where the dew could get on it and rust it. I vividly remember him telling me "boy I paid 39 cents for that file." I remember thinking, all this for a 39 cent file, but of course I had enough sense to keep that thought in my head. My momma didn't raise no fools.

I recall another event when daddy was going to let me drive the car home from Brunswick School after an activity up there one night. This was when we lived in the Brunswick Subdivision, Society Rd, I think and we had the old 53 Chevy that I believe Sam gave daddy. It was dark and daddy sat on the passengers side. I had to back up to get out of the parking space and daddy was all over me looking and turning and suddenly the car accelerated violently and I pressed the brake pedal as hard as I could and daddy started yelling at me "GET OFF THE GAS!!!!", and I said "I'm not on the gas", and for some reason daddy had a flash light in his hand and he spotted it down on the gas pedal and discovered that it was his foot on the gas. Now, I don't recall daddy being one to apologize to us children, so he just removed his foot and said in a much more subdued voice "now back-up"

NATHAN WILLIAMS

came up with the bright idea to burn the rose bush down so that we could get the ball and we did just that. Well when momma and daddy got home, Joe got a well deserved whopping for not watching us more closely. To this day, Joe thinks that we (at least me) should have gotton a whopping too.

Ohhh, by the way Joe that airplane ride by June, Charles, Ori Airlines was mine. I checked with the pilot.

I probably remember the story more than the incident but I am sure Joe remembers it better because he was the baby sitter when we lived on Jack Bond Rd, when the sisters and I were playing with a rubber ball outside in the front yard. You may remember a rose bush out front, well out ball ended up in that rose bush and we couldn't get it out no matter how hard we tried. I'm not sure but I must have been the one who

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MEMORIES OF GROWING UP IN THE WILLIAMS FAMILY BY Betty Williams Cody

Family Reunion 2015 hosted by me contained a lot of my childhood memories. That is why my theme was “Down Memory Lane”. I have so many memories to share. I remember holidays. Christmas was the biggest. We didn’t have Christmas stockings but brown paper bags that our parents wrote our names on and sat them around the Christmas tree. The bag would contain candy, mixed nuts and oranges and apples. The bags were in our full control when Christmas morning came. We tried hard to make the contents last as long as possible but for children, that was hard. As I look back, I realize that my parents were in a better financial state for some Christmases than others. We got more for some Christmases than others. Our “Auntie”, Aunt Clara often helped “Santa” out. We were children so every Christmas was a merry time for us. I do remember one year our parents said they were not going to put up a tree. I don’t know if they were just kidding or trying to keep us from bugging them about hurrying to get the tree up. I will never know because when they went shopping, I too an axe and went into the woods and cut down a tree and brought it home. Problem solved. All Christmas trees were live in those days. They were not too happy with me when they got home when they found out what property the tree came from. None the less, they kept the tree and decorated it for Christmas that year. Mama always did a lot of cake baking for Christmas. She made many different kinds of cake. There was plenty of cake for us to eat and to share with any holiday visitors. Her plan was for the cakes to last from Christmas day to New Year’s Day. On New Year’s Day, she would

bake a cake for our dessert that day because only small pieces of the other cake were left by then. Favorites were usually all gone. My favorites were coconut and yellow cake with chocolate icing. It was very important to Mama for us to look nice for Easter. I know her girls always had a new dress for Easter. She usually made our dresses. Sometimes she was up late the Saturday night before Easter putting the finishing touches on four cute dresses. She knew other children would look nice on Easter and she wanted us to look nice too. She felt proud when we got up and said our Easter speeches at church on Easter Sunday and said she was happy to claim us. She never worried about a new Easter outfit for herself in those days but said when she no longer had children to dress, she would buy outfits for herself and people would say “that is dressiest woman I have ever seen”. Since there were nine sibling, we had our own Easter Egg Hunt on Easter. The ones I remember, the oldest brothers would hide the eggs. There is a true Easter story that Mama would tell over and over. When the eggs were hidden and it was time for the hunt, we would be called into the yard. The bigger children were quicker so they were out the door first. Margaret was a toddler so she was out the door last. There was a big flower pot near the back door. Each child paused to look for an egg. Margaret came along last and found the egg hidden there. Mama was so thrilled that her baby found the egg that all of her older siblings overlooked as they rushed to find eggs. I think it made her day that Easter. Not only did she make her daughters dresses for Easter but she also made dressed for Mother’s Day and

Children’s Day because we had speeches then too. I just don’t remember too much the boys’ attire. The boys were older and she did not make their clothes. Maybe the brothers can talk about that. On Mother’s Day, daddy would always get red roses for us to wear. His mother was still alive so he wore a red rose also. Mama’s mother was not alive so he got her a white rose to wear. The entire family wore roses for Mother’s Day. When our birthdays came, Mama would bake a cake for the birthday person. You didn’t have to ask for the bowl or spoon because on your birthday, they belonged to you. She was quite generous with the amount of batter she left in the bowl. On Sundays, we always had family devotion before breakfast. The format was always the same and two siblings were assigned to be in charge each Sunday. We started with a song. Then scripture was read by one sibling. Another sibling prayed after that. We ended with a bible verse by everyone. The youngest child would say “Jesus wept”. If you were old enough to talk, they taught you to say that verse. The rest of us tried not to repeat a verse someone else said that morning. After breakfast, it was off to Sunday school. Daddy was superintendent of Sunday school so we were expected to go. We actually enjoyed going. His rule was go to Sunday school but you didn’t have to stay for service.

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Mama did not go to Sunday school. She had lots of hair to comb and children to dress as well as get a head start on Sunday dinner. Daddy would drive home after Sunday school and any of us that wanted to go home could ride home with him when he went back home to pick Mama up. Most Sundays we stayed at church for service. I had a chance to find out that Mama was picky about Sunday dinner. One Sunday I was home while she was at church so I decided to cook Sunday dinner. I fixed something I liked, fish sticks, mashed potatoes and green peas. I thought Mama would be happy but she was not. She told me that was not a Sunday dinner. We ate it that Sunday but I realized she usually had some type of a beef roast or some type of chicken for Sunday dinner, never anything like fish sticks. I remember the watermelon patch and there being enough watermelon that we could eat all we wanted, and we did. We grew lots of other things too but I loved watermelon the best. I still love watermelon. I still remember Mama canning. She would store the jars for winter and they would be stored with the same vegetable contents together. I also remember when she got the upright freezer. She did not want a chest freezer because she felt the food would be hard to find. With the upright, the same vegetable would occupy a shelf. I remember platting grass hair and taking our hair bows and barrettes outside to decorate our creations. I remember to Miss Syreese’s house. She was a pretend person but it was great fun. There was even an old car in the pasture that we would pretend drive to get to her pretend house. My sisters and I had quite an imagination. We played “stick things”. We broke green twigs to make them pretend people. We snapped them to make men and

boys. We broke them gently to make girls and women so the bark would peel and that would be there hair. We even played with feathers from the chicken coop as pretend people. Concrete blocks made great houses with each opening in the block representing a room in the house. Our favorite was probably the Sears catalogue once it was out of date. We would get scissors and cut out pictures of people. We liked the paper because it would bend. We would play church by folding small pieces of cardboard to make pews. We would then fold our catalogue people to sit on the pews and then we could have pretend church, singing and all. I remember having one TV, black and white in those days, 3 channels, no cable. On Saturday mornings the boys wanted to watch Sky King and Flicker. The girls wanted to watch Shirley Temple and Pride of the Southland (a children’s talent show). The only way the girls got to watch sometimes what we wanted was tell Mama. She was our advocate and would tell the brothers to let us watch what we wanted. I remember before I started school, Emma and I loved playing in the boys’ room. They had marbles and small treasured trinkets that they kept on a shelf in a box. The boxes had once held government cheese. Emma and I would entertain ourselves for hours. Mama had her baby Carol to take care of during that time. I think it made Mama happy that we would entertain ourselves for so long. When the brothers would come home from school and see that we had played with their processions, they would complain to Mama to keep us out of their room. Mama never said one word about us staying out. I remember Mama sewing. She sewed a lot. I remember her Singer peddle sewing machine. I also remember her getting an Atlas electric machine. I remember her showing me and Emma how to make

a doll dress with a rectangle of cloth that could be made without sewing a stitch. I still remember this simple but effective technique. When we did want something sewed, we would show her where we wanted the seam when she was sewing. When she got to the end of her seam, she would just continue to sew our seam. She never said no or acted like we were bothering her. I remember her sewing quilt tops and then she and some friends would get together and quilt. They would meet and put a quilt on the quilt horses (wooden frames). Quilting was by hand. They would quilt and talk. Underneath the quilt on the horses was a great place to play. I remember when I was about 12 years old, daddy brought home and assortment of fabric and told me he wanted me to sew more and play dolls with my sisters less. I did because I enjoyed sewing. When I got in 9th grade I took Home Economics and I found I had sewing talent. When Emma and I were growing up we were best friends. Carol and Margaret were younger. Emma and I never fought. The closest encounter I remember us having was over a stick. Not a small stick people stick but a larger stick. Neither wanted to be the first to let go but we were unable to get it from the grip of the other person. We tried but when we found we could not take the stick, we sat down while still holding on to the stick. When Daddy got home we were still sitting there holding on to the stick. He gave us something to do so we had to let the stick go. We were careful to let it go at the same time. I don’t even remember what that was about. We never hit each other. I did hit another girl once for bothering Emma on the playground at school.

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Activities included a day at the race track, where many suited up and took a few laps around the track.

1 Family Reunion 2015 was hosted by William (Bill) and Betty Cody in Daytonna Beach, Florida. What an awesome time we had. We enjoyed the pleasant weather on the beach. Activities included a day at the race track, where many suited up and took a few laps around the track, All white photos on the beach, swimming (pool and ocean) 70's night, and of course, food, food, food, and more food. The theme of the reunion was 'Memory Lane". Thanks Cody's for a memorable reunion. There is nothing like family.

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5 Left Page: Top Left: Todd, Robyn and the girls. Bottom Left: Margaret and her nieces This Page: Top Left: Nathan and Reiga Top Right: Moriah and Noah Center Left: Williams's on the beach\ Bottom Right: Taylor and Angie Bottom Left: Bill, Betty, and Laurel

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Bold Headline The House On the Hill Across From Uncle James and Aunt Josie I seem to remember back to about the age of three, that would be about 61 years ago. This was before electricity and radio. We lived on Jack Bond Road in the house up on the hill across from Uncle James and Aunt Josie. I remember the well out back which furnished our water and Sam and June riding what I thought were mules but Sam says they were horses. I remember June (that's what we called Ori back in the day) giving me an airplane ride against my wishes his feet got tangled or he stumbled and dropped me. We used to go down and play with Uncle James and Aunt Josie's children who were double cousins, Uncle James being Daddy's half-brother and Aunt Josie being Momma's sister. There was a thicket back of the little green house where they stayed and an eroded red clay bank along the side of Jack Bond Road. We used to climb the smaller saplings in the thicket ride them down, cut the tops off and ride what was left rooted in the ground as pretend horses. We used to also eat the red clay from the bank along the side of the road, it was called eatin' dirt. The adults used to partake also but probably in smaller quantities than the kids. Momma and Aunt Josie used to warn us that if ate too much of the dirt that they would have to get it out of us with a "goody picker". I have heard later that it is or was customary to do something similar in parts of Africa. Anybody familiar with that? I also remember sneaking across the field to a pecan orchard getting pecans.

I seem to remember that being the house where Daddy came through one morning and woke us with a singing handsaw. He was holding it in his hand and shaking it somehow and the saw was making music. I only remember him doing it once. He would do stuff like that and laugh and would not repeat it, remember the

talking cat? But that was later.

Well, that's about all I remember from the house on the hill across from James and Josie. I am sure that the older heads have a lot more memories than mine. Next my memories take me to the house down from where Momma M and Grandpa Charlie Flowers stayed, also on Jack Bond Road.

I can’t remember when we moved but I remember us living next door to Grandma Emma (Momma Em) and Grandpa Charlie Flowers. I don’t know how old I was when we lived there but I would guess 3-4 years of age because I was preschool. I started school after we moved further down Jack Bond road to Sevell Carter’s farm, but that comes later. I remember that the house by Momma Em had a fireplace and we used to bury sweet potatoes in the ashes to cook. Momma used two big black pots or kettles in the backyard to heat water for washing clothes. These were the same or similar pots that I remember later being used to heat water for cleaning Hogs and rendering the fat and skin to make lard and cracklings. I am sure there were but I don’t remember any hogs being killed in the house by Momma Em. I remember we raised ducks as

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well as chickens and we would have duck sometimes during the holidays. I don’t remember any geese.

I still don’t know who owned the farm. I always associated it with Robert McClanahan (probably misspelled) but I think that he was just the overseer. And I don’t remember him until after we moved to the Carter Farm. Momma somehow used lye for cleaning clothes. I don’t know if she used it to make lye soap but I remember the little blue and white box, striped I think it was. And I have always associated it with her washing clothes. I remember lye being used because I got some in my mouth. Don’t remember how it got in my mouth but get in my mouth some of it did. I wonder if one of my brothers…… nah. I remember there was not much to be done after spitting and rinsing except let the saliva flow and man did it flow. I drooled for what seem like forever. I remember the big black kettles, with fire around them, the smoke the lye and me drooling uncontrollably.

I remember James Hayes (Momma’s baby brother) visiting when we lived there. I have heard that he lived with us for a while but that I don’t remember. There was also a horse named Prince a pretty animal very spirited and could ridden but would not pull a plough. I remember daddy deciding that Prince had to earn his keep and hooked him up to, I believe a turning plough. I remember witnessing the battle between the two of them through Momma Em’s back window. Why Momma Em’s back window I don’t know. Both daddy and Prince were wringing wet with sweat before it was over. I don’t know who won but I don’t

remember Old Prince being hitched to a plough again. I seem to remember that Uncle James using Prince for transportation from time to time. There were family gatherings on occasion at the Flowers house, not sure if a birthday celebration or just what. But we would have to attend, at least long enough to meet everyone. I remember that there was a light skinned, red headed boy they called Bubnose. I don’t remember who he was related to but for some reason always remembered the nick name….. well it was kind of unusual. I think he was related to Connie Jo and Glenda Ann. I first remember meeting them at Momma Em’s along with Cousin Doris. I think they were Whites at that time. Cousin Doris was married to (was his name GlennyWhite). I remember Melvin or Mel (MB back in the day) was Cousin Doris’s favorite.

I don’t remember any actual farming until we moved further down Jack Bond Road to the Carter place, but I am sure daddy was engaged. This all occurred before I was 5(five) years old, but some of the old heads would know more about that. I remember the field across from Momma Em as well as the fields in the back of her house, the two ponds and us swimming in the ponds but we farmed the land there even after we moved and a lot of my memories associated with Momma Em and the farming that occurred on that farm are after we moved. It was walking distance so we were consistently back and forth. I don’t remember much about Grandpa Charley Flowers though he was alive when we moved because I remember him giving us (Nathan and myself) a shot of whiskey while we were back visiting and us running home, down Jack Bond Road to get

water. That stuff set my mouth on fire, must have been 180 proof at least. So he was alive when we moved.

I also remember being there when Bobbie Kirk was visiting and someone had given her apiece of orange and she offered some to Grandpa Charley….”Have some orange grandpa? Yeah baby, don’t mine if I do.” He took her piece of orange and ate the whole thing and told her “now let that be a lesson to you baby, if you don’t have enough to offer someone that don’t offer it to them.” I don’t know about Bobbie but it sure taught me a lesson. It was either Grandpa Charley Flowers or Grandpa Charlie Kirk that tried to get a reluctant Mel to come to him. Grandpa reached our hooked his walking stick around the back of his head and pulled while telling him “come here you little snake-a-faced rascal”. Mel probably remembers.

I don’t remember the actual move down Jack Bond Road to the Carter place but we were there for about 11(eleven) years. I was there from about 5 (started school, Barret’s Chapel at 6), until the Great Fire occurred when I was in the 10(tenth) grade. Most of my memories are tied to that time forward though I am not able to assign specific years.

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Elmira Williams Elmira Middlebrook Williams was God-fearing, funny, witty, intelligent, a great cook, a wonderful, wife, mother, grandmother, and yes—she was a beautiful woman. She took great pride in her appearance and enjoyed looking chic. She was a hat lady and had dozens of beautiful hats. She once told me that she didn’t feel completely dressed unless she was wearing a hat.

My mother grew up in and around Brownsville, Mason, and Arlington, Tennessee. Her ancestors are the Adams and Middlebrook families. Her mama was Emily (Emma) Adams (my namesake) and her daddy was Sam Middlebrook, Jr. (my second brother’s namesake).

My parents were not openly affectionate, but they truly completed each other. They had each other’s back; they supported each other strengths and frailties. Mama, like daddy, was also active in the church and the community. She was a proud Mother of the church (sometimes referred to as a deaconness). She had a beautiful voice and would often break out in a ‘moan’ while daddy or one of the other deacons were praying: I can hear her in my head “If it wasn’t for Jesus, I wouldn’t have a friend----if it wasn’t for Jesus, I wouldn’t have a friend”. “When I rose this morning, I said thank you Lord—when I rose this morning, I said thank you Lord”! YES MAMA! Seems to me that after daddy passed, Mama picked up the mantle and would sometimes sing those Dr. Watt’s like daddy use to. Mama was well-know for her Sour Cream and Chocolate Pound Cakes, sometimes baking several cakes for friends, neighbors, and the sick on holidays— for free. Mama had a Sunday morning ‘call list’ of about six people. She would call these ladies every morning to check on them. It got to the point, that if she was running behind, they would start calling her to make sure she was okay! This was her telephone ministry. Mama was a proud grandmother, affectionately known as ‘’Granny’’, she loved each and every grandchild. She always seemed the happiest when she was surrounded by her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren. Some of my hardest, most gut busting, tears rolling down the cheek laughter was with my mother and three sisters. We would all laugh so hard at something, at nothing, it didn’t matter—we would all be rolling, tears rolling down our cheeks! God I love and miss that woman! WRITTEN BY EMMA WILLIAMS AGNEW .................................................................................................................................................................................................... 18

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Five Things to Know About the Descendants of Cherokee’s Black Slaves Thousands of Freedmen are still fighting for basic citizenship—from the Cherokee nation By Elizabeth Kulze Mar 07, 2014 at 3:27 PM ET Yes, the Cherokee had slaves, and no, their descendants are not happy. They’re so unhappy, in fact, that they’ve sued the Cherokee nation that enslaved and freed their ancestors, only to kick them out a century later. The group, known as the Freedmen, have been fighting the Cherokee government for citizenship since it was revoked in the early 1980s on the basis that they lacked proof of native blood. Today around 3,000 reservation residents claim lineage from blacks once enslaved by the Cherokee and the rights they were entitled to. Here’s what you need to know.

So the Cherokee had slaves? Thousands, actually. And it wasn’t just the Cherokee. Many members the Five Civilized Tribes—Cherokee, Choctaw, Chickasaws, Creeks and Seminoles—all of them had slaves, though the Cherokee were the primary holders. By 1860, the tribe had 4,600 enslaved blacks under their dominion, owned mainly by a minority of elite members. Beginning in the late 18th century, white leaders encouraged the tribe to adopt the practice in order to facilitate large-scale agricultural production and their assimilation into the white way of life. In 1827, the Cherokee even created a slave code virtually indistinguishable from that of white Southern plantation owners. The document explicitly barred slaves and their descendants (including those of mixed race) from owning property, making money, drinking alcohol and marrying into the tribe. Blacks were also categorically disenfranchised, even if they were free or partially Cherokee. During removal in the 1830s, 2,000 slaves were forced to march westward with their masters on the Trail of Tears. The tribe eventually settled in what is now Oklahoma, and their agrarian nation prospered, largely because of slave labor. So when Lincoln threatened the practice of slavery at the start of the Civil War, the slavedependent Cherokee pledged allegiance to the Confederacy.

Their ancestors were eventually freed. What’s the Freedmen’s main gripe? In a nutshell, they want to be reinstated as rightful members of the Cherokee tribe. In 1866, after the Civil War, the Cherokee agreed with the federal government to grant full tribal citizenship to all freed slaves and their descendants in the wake of the Cherokee Emancipation Proclamation. The tribe’s newest members became known as the Freedman. But the Freedmen’s rights were not easily won. The Cherokee became possessive and resisted the division of their assests. The U.S. government was able to overrule their efforts to shut the Freedman out of land and financial allocations, but nearly a century later, all progress was reversed. Ross O. Swimmer, the Chief of Cherokee Nation, issued an executive order in 1983 requiring that all citizens have a “Certificate of Degree of Indian Blood” in order to vote. The certificates were based on the Dawes Rolls, a tribal census taken between 1899 and 1906. At the time, mixed-blood Cherokees were treated as full members, while Freedman were listed separately, regardless of any native ancestry. Following Swimmer’s declaration in 1983, 25,000 Freedman descendants were effectively cut off from their heritage, initiating a racially heated rumpus, which endures to this day.

Why do they want to be identified with Cherokee when they were enslaved by Cherokee? Maybe history, maybe culture. Maybe free health care and other benefits. Freedman lived as citizens of the Cherokee nation for over a century before their rights were revoked, and some even served in the tribal government. They feel that to deny them Cherokee citizenship, is to deny them their cultural heritage. Excluding Freedmen from the Cherokee community also cuts them off from a host of benefits native populations now THE CAPTION INTRODUCTION should give the reader a receive from the federal government, not to mention their right to restitution. That includes everything from free quick description of the photograph. health care and housing assistance to scholarship money and employment opportunities. cont'd on page 23 - Cherokee

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Because I still lived at home for so long after I learned to drive, I have a few "driving Mr. Charles" stories. Reading Nathan's stories brought memories back and reminded me of a particular incident that occured I guess when I was about 19. You see my friend Peggy was having her 18th birthday party at her aunt's house. I managed to convince daddy to let me drive his car eventhough the party was only about a quarter of a mile down the road. I got all sharp, looking good, with the keys to daddy's still new Ford Maverick (His first and only new car ever) and proceeded down the road to the party. Long story short, I had too much to drink (legal drinking age at that time was 18). It started to rain cats and dogs. The driveway at Peggy's aunt's house was a very narrow gravel drive at that time with two large drainage ditches on either side. Normally when I drove down there, I would turn the car around in the yard so as not to have to back out onto Germantown road under the hill. Well the yard was full of cars that night and there was no room to turn the car aruond so in my somewhat inebriated state I determined that I would back the car out in the pouring down rain in the dark. I got about half way out the driveway and one of the wheels on the car slipped into one of the drainage ditches. I was stuck in the mud, but good. Some of the guys from the party came out, got drenched and muddy, but we got the car out of the ditch. Going home without that car was not an option. We knocked the back license plate off the car in the process, but I just drove it home that way. I was starting to sober up by this time, but I did not want to be out in the rain in the middle of the night trying to figure out how to put that license plate back on. I went home took a hot shower and went to bed determined that I would get up early the next morning, replace the license plate and no one would be the wiser. Well, it didn't quite work out that way. I overslept. When I woke up daddy was in the dinning room, sitting at the table with his coffee and his newspaper. I said good morning and kept right on out the front door hoping he hadn't been out to look at his car. When I got outside, not only had the license plate been replaced, but all the mud had been washed away.

Oh well, I thought "time to go inside and get this lecture over with. He'll probably ban me from driving for the rest of my life!" I went inside walked up to him and just stood there, braced for the worse. Daddy slowly lowered his newspaper, looked at me over the top of his eyeglasses and said in very calm voice, "Now, if you had been a boy you would have taken care of all that last night and I never would have known you wrecked my car." He then raised his newspaper back up and continued reading. That was the only time he ever spoke of it.

THE CAPTION INTRODUCTION should give the reader a quick description of the photograph.

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Article Heading Daddy told me of the time he was caught on a runaway wagon (horse & buggy, that is). He was caught between the single-tree and the double-tree (of course, he could explain what those were) and could not regain control of the horses. The horses were pulling the wagon down a bumpy dirt road along the side of a barbed wire fence. He wanted to jump off, but the fence was too high to jump over. The wire was too close together for him to jump between, and he could see no end to the fence. He couldn't get to the other side of the wagon and the horses were going too fast for him to just fall off. He would be trampled underneath or run over by the wagon. Suddenly a voice told him "jump". As I said the fence was too high to jump over. The wire was too close together for him to jump between, and he could see no end to the fence. He stayed on the wagon. Again he heard the voice say, louder this time, JUMP! This time he jumped. He didn't know how, but somehow, he landed on the other side of the fence without a scratch on him as the horses continued to run down the road. Mama told a story from her childhood. Her father farmed (or worked as a share-cropper) and everyone had to help. One year Mama's daddy (Grandpa Sam) recruited some help picking cotton from a lady (we'll call her Ms. Jones). Mama's mama (Grandma Emily) would get up early every morning and fix breakfast before going to the field to pick cotton. She also had to tend to the small children. At lunch time, she would go to the house and prepare lunch for everyone and feed them. At the end of the day she prepared dinner and fed everyone again. She would then clean up before going to bed to rest so she could rise early the next day and start all over again. Every morning Ms. Jones would come over to help. She may have lived-in during this time. All day long she worked in the field and took her meals with the other field hands. Every evening Grandpa Sam would brag on Ms. Jones while belittling Grandma Emily. Ms. Jones picked so much cotton. Why couldn't Grandma Emily work as hard and pick as much cotton as Ms. Jones? Mama decided

this was not right. She knew why Grandma Emily could not keep up with Ms. Jones. She didn't like the way her daddy held this other lady up while ridiculing her mother. One day in the field she decided to do something about it. When no one was looking, she would take cotton from Ms. Jones' bag and put it in Grandma Emily's bag. No one was ever the wiser. Years later, after she was grown with children of her own, the family sat around the table sharing stories. She told everyone what she had done and why. Everyone had a big laugh, including Grandpa Sam who threateaned to whip her right then and there.

WRITTEN BY AUTHORâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;S NAME PHOTOGRAPHY BY PHOTOGRAPHER'S NAME

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Remembering My Childhood Emma Agnew I remember growing up as a child on Jack Bond Road in Arlington, Tennessee (which wasn’t really Arlington but Arlington was the official post office for mail). Anyway, I grew up with my five older brothers: Charles, Jr. (June) who later changed his name to Ori; Samuel (Sam), Melvin (MB--and later known as Mel); Joe and Nathan; my three sisters are: Betty, Carol, and Annie Margaret (called Margaret)—I’m Emma, born between Carol and Betty. Percy James was our brother that died of crib death when he was 3 months--he was born between Mel and Sam. Our parents, Charles and Elmira Williams, were proud, God-fearing people who share-cropped the land on Jack Bond Road which belonged to Mr. Cvelle (?). Mom worked part-time as a domestic and daddy worked as a janitor at the Millington Naval Base. We grew our own vegetables, fruits and meats. There was a large truck-patch with a variety of greens and peas, green beans, lima beans, okra, squash and corn. There were also watermelons, cantaloupe, honey dew melons, sweet potatoes and Irish potatoes. There were fruit trees in the back yard as well as in the woods that surrounded our farm. I remember hogs being slaughtered, chickens being plucked, eggs gathered and cows (I think there were cows). I remember one of our mules, Ole Red, but forget the dark mule’s name (I was about 8 or 9 after all—can’t remember everything. The mules were used for plowing the truck-patch and the cotton fields we chopped in the summer and picked in the fall.

We were happy, well-adjusted children who learned the value of hard work. We didn’t know what hunger was. There was always food at the Williams household. Mama would can fruits and vegetable during harvest season so we would have plenty to eat during the winter months. I remember watching mama make preserves, jams and jellies. The sweet smell from the kitchen would fill the house. Sometimes she would let me taste the sweet goodness before putting it into jars. Making Sorghum molasses was a process best reserved for outdoors and was usually performed by daddy and my brothers. There wasn’t much money but there was plenty of love. We were always clean, neat and well-groomed. Mama would often make dresses for us girls, sometimes from the 50 pound flour sacks that were purchased from the market in Brunswick. I

remember daddy saying “We may not have any money, but we are not poor.”—Oh how right he was. Family devotion was a given on Sunday mornings, followed by Sunday School, morning worship service and Baptist Training Union and/or Missionary Society Meetings (I was in the Sunshine Band and later the Red Circle).

In the fall of 1961 (there about) the house on Jack Bond burned to the ground and we lost everything except the clothes on our backs. Thank God no one was in the house. It was a turning point for the Williams family. By now, Ori, Sam, and Mel were adults and no longer living at home. Mama, Daddy and the rest of us moved into Grandma Betty’s house on Society Road in the Brunswick Subdivision (The Sub) Grandma was Daddy’s mother. The house was a small, 3-room shack in need of much repair. What was meant to be a temporary living condition for a few months turned into 3 years. Not having the ability to farm and grow our own food was devastating financially. There was no extra income from the cotton--and the food we once grew and raised—now had to be purchased. We moved into a nicer house on Shadowlawn Road for a couple years or so before Daddy and Mama were finally able to build the house on Germantown Road that our children and their children are familiar with.

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Great Great Grandpa Anthony (Andy) Flowers It was believed that my maternal great great grandfather, Anthony Flowers, was a full-blooded Cherokee Indian; However, the 1870 and the 1880 Census lists Anthony Flowers as ‘Negro’. I am convinced, therefore, that Grandpa Anthony (Andy) Flowers was at least half Native American or half Caucasian. After all, for a rumor to start that he was Cherokee, he must have had some resemblance to a Native American. The history of the Cherokee Indians and African slaves was a complex one. More complex than I care to research at this point. The Cherokee were once slaves themselves. They also held slaves much like the Europeans. They worked with the Europeans to return runaway slaves, and to a lesser degree, accepted African/Cherokee children into their tribes. So it is highly possible that at most Grandpa Andy was a Cherokee Indian, or at the least a Cherokee of mixed blood (Black or White). The undocumented oral stories about Grandpa certainly suggests one or the other. Based on stories passed down by his grandchildren, Grandpa Anthony was a skilled tracker, medicine man, devoted father, and a wonderful grandfather. The story is told that when Grandpa Anthony would come for a visit, he had this call he would do that could be heard from miles away. The grandchildren would get excited because they knew that noise meant that grandpa would be there tomorrow. Grandpa Anthony was a skilled tracker and scout. The Confederate Army tried to recruit him on more than one occasion, but he refused. He wanted no part of helping the Confederate soldiers defeat the North. He became concerned for his life if he kept refusing to work for the Confederacy, or perhaps he was threatened. So he hid out in the woods for several weeks. His wife great great grandmother, Sarah, sent my great grandfather, Charlie, to take food to Grandpa Anthony every day. One day while delivering the food to Grandpa Anthony, Grandpa Charlie was bitten by a venomous snake. After removing the venom and mixing a potion from leaves he gathered from the woods, Grandpa Anthony dug a hole in the ground and put Grandpa Charlie in it and covered him with dirt up to his neck. This was the equivalent of an ice bath and served to lower Grandpa Charlie’s fever.

Grandpa Anthony married my great great grandmother Sarah in _____. He bought Grandma Sarah out of slavery for the sum of a few horses. Grandma Sarah was a short, round, dark skinned woman. She died from a gunshot wound while trying to break up a fight. She and Grandpa Anthony had five sons and four daughters. One of which was my Great Grandfather, Charlie. ______________________________ Cont'd from Page 19 - Cherokee

So what’s happening now? It’s a bureaucratic mess, and both sides are back in the courts. In 2006 the Cherokee Supreme Court ruled that the Freedmen’s native citizenship should be restored, saying that their government’s actions were unconstitutional. In response, Chad “Corntassel” Smith, then chief, called for a special election to create an amendment to repeal the ruling. After the vote, Freedman descendants were stripped of their citizenship yet again, which led to another brutal onslaught of lawsuits and appeals, battled out in U.S. and Cherokee courts. In 2011, the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development even went so far as to freeze $33 million in funds unless the Cherokee government granted Freedman the right to vote in an upcoming election for chief. The native leadership eventually caved, allowing the Freedman to cast ballots, but refused to budge on the question of full citizenship. The latest complaints were filed by both sides in 2012, and a federal court will begin sorting out the matter next month—hopefully for good.

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