7 Generations – My Foundation

“Why you never bought a house?” I said to Granddad one day on a college school break. He didn’t get offended. Nor did he shift his posture, remote in hand, sitting up watching jeopardy to turn to me on the other end of his full-size bed. Instead, he chuckled. Charles E. Hunnicutt, my maternal granddad…

7 Generations – The Promise Land

Mary C. Galley, my 2nd Great-grandma was born one day in January 1865 in Wilmington, North Carolina. She was only months old when the 13th amendment abolished slavery. She wouldn’t have known if she was a black girl born enslaved unless her namesake mother Mary Pearce told her point blank, “You were born free.” Like…

7 Generations – Pulling Off the Plaster

It always irked me that Granddad Charles who I lived with once my single parent Mom died advocated for my father. He often said, “Give Jamel a chance.” You know let him be involved in my life. Jamel was only around the corner of Breukelen projects between his mother, Grandma Arlene’s home and Glenwood Road.…

7 Generations – Not Black, Nor White

“I was the darkest of my siblings,” Grandma said, “he reminded me everyday how he treated me.”  Arlene Allen, is my paternal Grandma, the matriarch of the Allen family. But at this moment, she was the child her father hurt. I doubt I showed shock. My jaw didn’t drop. Nor did my eyes bulge. We…

7 Generations – Paper Trail

I was looking for a photo of my Great-grandma – Gracie Johnson. It was a black and white photo that showed her wearing a full-length coat with a matching hat. I wanted a second look to get a glimpse of her life – a black woman born about 1892 in North Carolina, whose marriage in…

7 Generations – What Lies Within a Marriage Certificate

“Your battery is low,” popped up on my laptop’s screen a moment after I discovered the marriage certificate information of my Great-Grandparents – Japheth Trumpet and Irene DePeiza on Ancestry.com. I raced through the living room and kitchen looking for the power cord as I thought this could be the breakthrough I needed. My information…

7 Generations – The Bonds that Bind

I’ve been curious about my family tree for sometime. I don’t know when it started. It could have been when my aunt Grace told a story about re-connecting with our family in Saint Vincent. Maybe it was the silence that swept my maternal Granddad’s face when I asked him about his father. Maybe it was…