Thankfully, A Silverback In the Mist of Slaves

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“I can’t go any further, you’ll have to walk the rest of the way,” our taxi driver informed us as he stopped in front of a wrought-iron gate below an aged stone arch.

My lady and I had decided on a whim to take a tour of the Wormsloe Plantation while we were spending a weekend in Savannah, Georgia.

Wormsloe, now a historic site, has deep roots in the American antebellum South. While touring the 822-acre plantation we learned of the history of the land upon which we were standing and even witnessed a reenactment of a Revolutionary War battle that had taken place there against the Red Coats. However as the tour was coming to an end, I was perplexed that there was no mention of slavery on the entire tour. Quite the omission, given that we were on a plantation deep in the American South.  

As we followed the path back through the woods to the end of the tour, we came upon a long tree-lined stretch of beautiful oak and moss trees. The sun had been beating down on us and as we came around the bend these gigantic moss trees had provided us with some momentary shade. I stopped dead in my tracks and was taken aback by an overwhelming sense of spiritualism. Almost as if a Black “Spidey sense” had been triggered at the sight of this one particularly massive tree that stood out among other trees. I was overcome with a feeling that something significant had taken place on the land upon which I stood; this was hallowed ground. However, the feeling that I was overcome with was not coming from a place of negativity but more a sense of community; a sense of togetherness.

The spirits were conjuring up a confluence of emotions that took place under this tree: there was refuge under this tree, there was laughter under this tree, wounds were exposed under this tree, there were tears under this tree, people embraced under this tree, folks joined hands under this tree, songs were sung under this tree, there was encouragement under this tree, news was delivered under this tree, community was formulated under this tree, courage was fortified under this tree, there was hope under this tree, but most importantly there was love under this tree.

Silence draped over us as we were overcome with a sense of awe, wonder, and respect for the ground upon which I stood. I took a few steps towards this tree and quickly accounting for what she sensed was transpiring at that moment, my lady asked me for my camera so she could capture the moment in time. I stood there drinking in this moment and feeling that I had been there before; that I was in the midst of ancestors. It was a strange spiritual feeling that I had never experienced before; not in the church or any other hallowed ground. Remaining present but silent in this glorious moment, I deeply inhaled the air and placed my palm on the tree.

We moved on down the path and continued to walk down this tree-lined stretch and I began to share with her what I had felt. We began to ponder aloud what may have taken place at that tree that would give rise to such strong emotions. We walked past a gift shop and decided to make a quick stop inside.

Exploding with curiosity I ask for someone who was in charge of the tour. Unsure of why he was being summoned, a park ranger emerged from the back office and I introduced myself. I politely shared with him that I found it interesting that there was no mention of slavery on the tour and I asked if there had been any slaves on this plantation. His eyes widened and he said that he was so glad that we had asked. He informed us that he had recently taken over responsibility for the plantation and that he had begun to intensely research the slave history of Wormsloe so that he could incorporate it into the tour.

What he said next blew us away and still gives me goosebumps. He said that in his research he had discovered that at any given time there were 1,500 enslaved humans (yes, fifteen hundred!) on the Wormsloe plantation. Still taken aback at the sheer volume of that figure, he then asked us if we saw the gigantic moss tree towards the end of the tour. Almost cutting off his sentence, I blurted out to affirm that we had seen the tree he was referring to. He then shared with us that he had recently found writings that had detailed many stories of slaves congregating under that tree!

Absolutely blown away that he had confirmed what I had felt, I shared with him what I had just experienced. We were all buzzing with excitement and I began firing off multiple questions for this ranger. We continued to talk for a while and he shared with us photos of some of the innovative agricultural tools they had dug up that had been crafted by the artisans. Then he shared with us photos of writings that they had discovered on the land. One of my last questions to him was where did all the emancipated slaves go on that first Juneteenth back in 1865. He then recalled to our memory that we had driven through a poor Black neighborhood to get to Wormsloe and that majority of the people that lived there today are direct descendants of the freed Wormsloe slaves. For a moment, I came down from my high and was saddened by the reminder of what the scourge of American slavery had done and is doing to my community. But then I remembered that although it took a bloody civil war, 1,500 men, women, and children proudly once walked under the Wormsloe stone arch for the last time to begin the hard work of recovering from the terrorism of American slavery.

As we celebrate a day of thanks, this week, I am reminded of the hope, courage, and love that engulfed me under that tree. In these perilous times, I pray we can bind together in the spirit of those emotions to continue the work that our brothers and sisters at Wormsloe - and the millions before them - began; a work that we have still yet to accomplish. 

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