Sentimental Sunday

Make new friends but keep the old

Some are silver and the other gold

This week, if you’ve been following Luckie, Our Georgia Roots, Felicia, My Nola Heritage, Sandra, I Never Knew My Father, and yes, even me, then you know about the fun that we had last weekend in Savannah.

I haven’t really written anything about our trip. I was initially aiming to write something for Treasure Chest Thursday because the sisterhood developed on line was even more special in real life and it is truly treasured. But as I started to write that post, the words never flowed exactly the way I wanted so Thursday came and went. And for awhile there, I begin to think there was nothing else for me to add to what my pals had said but there was something inside me that kept saying you too must speak. So, here goes.

For me, I have two heritages that belong to Savannah. As a former Girl Scout, my earliest recollections of hearing about Savannah were always in regard to it being the birthplace of Juliette Gordon Low, founder of the Girl Scouts, and on a previous trip to Savannah, I did have the pleasure of seeing her birthplace. But, it was the home of her cook, seen during this visit, which served as a bridge to my feelings and connections with my other Savannah heritage.

As we watched the enormous shipping vessels coming in and out of port, you couldn’t help but drift to thoughts of the middle passage. Reflecting, I've often wondered what gave them the will and strength to survive that long, arduous voyage toward an unknown and uncertain future. Yet, if they hadn’t, our families would have been lost even before they began on these shores.

I feel the pain and suffering of the ancestors as they endured the oppressive sweltering heat and humidity that most surely existed in the barracoons. Yet, they still had the will to survive.






I can only wonder about the thoughts that raced through their minds as they were auctioned off at the slave market. What next? And yet they carried on.

They carried on even when they could not set foot in a park their tax dollars helped pay for.










They made their own way during slavery, reconstruction, and Jim Crow. They left their imprint on a city, a state, a region, and a country.

The bricks that can't be duplicated, although many have tried.

In the ironwork

In worship

And in education

But for me, their ultimate legacy is us, their descendants

And so we carry on, not just for us, but for them, our ancestors.

Until Next Time!

Pictures taken by M. Jones, L. Daniels, S. Taliaferro, and F. Mathis.