John Baker - The Washingtons of Wessyngton Plantation: Stories of My Familys Journey to Freedom

I dont care what anybody says, the Lord meant for you to do all this. Look at all the Washingtons and others that have come along long before you and gone and never thought about this. This story had to be told before the end of time about what our people went through and He sent you to do it.

MAGGIE POLK WASHINGTON , 99 YEARS OLD

You really love to talk about your ancestors and all the other people from Washington that you have traced down. As long as you are living, they will never be dead.

MATTIE TERRY , 93 YEARS OLD

I think you are doing a fine job looking up all this history. Our people need to know what all those people went through back then for us to get to where we are now, especially the young folks.

HENRY POLK , 85 YEARS OLD

I am one of the tens of thousands of descendants of the hundreds of African Americans who were once enslaved on Wessyngton Plantation, the largest tobacco plantation in America. My ancestors were among the first to come to the plantation and the oldest who can be traced to present-day descendants. As many as ten generations of my family have lived in the area since the arrival of my first ancestors.

The human need to know where you come from and whom you come from runs deep in the African American psyche. The phenomenon that was Alex Haleys Roots is evidence of that, but so is the common practice of African American parents to raise their children emphasizing the importance of knowing your kin: those present as well as those who have passed away. We dont care if someone is our third cousin or our fiftieth cousin; were still family. I know that my family certainly instilled these values in me. And from that grew my passion for learning about the history of all the families on Wessyngton Plantation. This passion led me on a thirty-year journey of discovery.

I can only hope that each reader will come to see that the story of the African Americans on Wessyngton Plantation is a special story of individualsa proud history of family, hard work, and achievement. It is a perfect way for future generations to honor our ancestors.

Seated left: Emanuel Washington (18241907), the cook; seated right: Henny Washington (18391913), the head laundress; standing left: Allen Washington (18251890s), the head dairyman; standing right: Granville Washington (18311898), George A. Washingtons valet. Taken at Wessyngton Plantation, ca. 1891.

A s a young child in the 1960s, my maternal grandfather took me for a ride in the country nearly every Sunday afternoon after church. We would drive about ten miles northwest of Springfield, Tennessee, and would pass by an impressive mansion, which sat some distance off the road. My grandfather would say, Thats Washington, where your people came from on your grandmothers side.

I discovered the story of my ancestors by accident while flipping through the pages of my seventh-grade social studies book, Your Tennessee. At the beginning of the chapter Black Tennesseans, I spotted a photograph of four African Americans. In the 1970s little was taught in public schools about black history other than the Civil War period, so the picture really intrigued me. I kept being drawn to this photograph and examined it carefully. The people were dressed well and looked dignified. I knew from their clothing that the photo was nearly one hundred years old. Each time I went to class, I would turn to the photo because the couple seated reminded me of some of my family membersthe woman and my maternal grandmother especially.

My grandmother Sallie Washington Nicholson moved to Indianapolis in 1941 and from there to Chicago. Each year she would come home to visit. On her visit, in 1976, when I was thirteen years old, she spent the weekend with her brother and sister-in-law Bob and Maggie Washington in Cedar Hill. She called my mother and told her to have me bring a camera when we came to pick her up because she had something she wanted me to photograph. When my mother and I arrived, my grandmother showed us an article from the Robertson County Times , published in Springfield. I immediately realized that this was the same photograph I had seen in my school textbook. The caption under the photograph listed the names of the former slaves, the owner, and the name of the plantation: Wessyngton. The caption read: Another of the pictures from Wessyngton. Seated left: Emanuel Washington, Uncle Man the cook, seated right: Hettie Washington, Aunt Henny the head laundress (Uncle Mans wife), standing left: Allen Washington, the head dairyman, standing right: Granville Washington (George A. Washingtons valet or body servant). Taken at Wessyngton [1891].

I remember to this day what happened next:

Who are these people, Big Mama? I asked.

Thats my grandfather and grandmother, she said, pointing to the seated couple. My grandfather was the cook at Washington. I knew that she was really talking about Wessyngton because most black people in the area refer to the plantation as Washington. And that is where we got the Washington name.

Although I had seen the photograph in the textbook many times, it assumed a different meaning once I knew that those people were my ancestors. I was in shock. I could hardly wait to get back to school and tell my classmates that my ancestors were in our history book. I looked at each person in the photograph carefully. I looked at Emanuel, Henny, Allen, and then Granville. Pointing to Granville, I asked, Who is this white man? Was he the slave owner? My grandmother and uncle replied at the same time, Hes not white, he is related to us too! Granville was our cousin. Papa used to talk about him all the time. He said George Washington who owned the Washington farm was his father by a slave girl. Granvilles mother was kin to Papa on his mothers side of the family.