The Long Black Line

I spent this past week in East Texas, visiting sites connected to a documentary that I co-wrote a few years ago. “The Long Black Line” is the multi-generational story of an African-American family from Jasper County. It surveys their path from slavery to present day, simultaneously reflecting changes in American culture at large. Recently, the film has become part of a major historical preservation effort, revolving around hundreds of old schoolhouses throughout the South.

The schoolhouses are known as “Rosenwald schools,” in honor of Julius Rosenwald – a Jewish philanthropist from Chicago who contributed a fair amount of his fortune to the education of black children. Influenced by Booker T. Washington, Rosenwald formed a partnership with black “freedom colonies” in the rural South, helping them to build schools that would allow their children to carve out a future in 20th century America. These schools are the foundations of a hugely important, but largely unsung, movement for equal rights.

Among the surviving Rosenwald schools in Jasper County are Huff Creek and Rock Hill. The former has been preserved as a church; the latter remodeled as a community center. Both of these sites are included on the new Long Black Line Tour, hosted by filmmaker Herman Wright Jr. and supported by the National Historic Trust. The tour also includes a trip through Mt. Union – a one-time freedom colony situated in the middle of an original 4,000-acre land grant given by the Spanish colonial government to Texas pioneer Sherod Wright. Mt. Union was settled by, and remains home to, descendants of slaves that were owned by Sherod Wright’s family.

The patriarch of the Mt. Union community is Benjamin Wright, the filmmaker’s great grandfather. After Emancipation, Benjamin had 21 children with two wives, and these children populated a community that was thriving by the 1930s, when Mt. Union got its own Rosenwald school: Walnut Hill. Although the building is long gone, Walnut Hill survives in the memories of those who attended it. The present-day Wright Brothers ranch encompasses much of the community land owned by three of Benjamin’s youngest children: Tim, Obie, and Benjamin Jr. The patriarch’s original ranch house has been lovingly restored (twice, actually – it was badly damaged by Hurricane Rita in 2005), and is now receiving visitors.

For anyone looking to experience, first-hand, the history of the long black line – or anyone simply looking for a peaceful weekend escape – this is a destination filled with inspiring sights and inspiring people. For more information, visit www.thelongblackline.org... and stay tuned for more films and stories.

Huff Creek School

Rock Hill School (then)

Rock Hill School (now)

Wright Brothers Ranch

Benjamin Wright’s house - built in the 1890s, recently designated as a historic landmark by the state of Texas

Alton

This morning, I learned of the death of Alton Booker Sr., at age 56. I met Alton a few years ago, when I was working on a documentary called “The Long Black Line” – a multi-generational story of a family in East Texas. Alton was a great grandson of Benjamin Wright, one of the earliest settlers of Jasper County. I know this because he had thoroughly researched his family’s genealogy, and discovered that Benjamin was a common ancestor for most members of the present-day communities of Mount Union and Magnolia Springs. These communities literally grew up around Benjamin’s ranch house, built in the late 1860s, and around the Methodist and Baptist churches that were founded soon after. When Benjamin died in 1899, he was buried on the hill at Magnolia Springs Community Cemetery – a cemetery that Alton helped to maintain.

Alton was determined to preserve and share the history of his family and his community, because he believed that the voices of the past were what truly made a community. He helped his cousin, Herman Wright, make and promote the film “The Long Black Line,” which has found its way into Jasper schools. More recently, he oversaw the restoration of Benjamin’s ranch house, as well as the revitalization of the ranch itself, which is currently thriving. He served as a church pastor, a member of the local school board, and an organizer of annual family reunions. Most importantly, he was a loving husband, father and grandfather.

In an interview for “The Long Black Line,” Alton spoke about growing up in Magnolia Springs: “The people here in our community, my cousins and families that grew up here had a lot of pride in this community. They were good God-fearing people. They set examples for us kids coming up…. I think that still goes on today if you ride around this community and look around. That continues to be a solid fixture here: pride in community, pride in who you are and where you came from. I don’t see it going away any time soon.” He also spoke about his love for the rural piney woods, where his ancestors lived and died: “To experience the country life to me is to experience God’s goodness. Because when He says He provides, you know... there was never a want for anything.”

I read an article recently, which reinforced the idea that death creates communities by continually reminding us that we are merely a link to the past and the future: “The significance of life derives from the presence of the future, while the richness of life derives from the presence of the past. How we live is important only if we see the consequential future flowing toward us - beginning, always, with the fact that we will die and must prepare our children to assume the burdens of culture. How we live is thick and meaningful only if we see the momentous past, the ancient ghosts, dwelling among us - beginning, always, with the fact that our parents have died and left their corpses' care to us. Death is the anchor for every human association, from the family all the way up to the nation-state. It provides a reason for association; it keeps us from drifting by tying us to a temporal reality larger - richer and more significant - than our individual present.”

Alton knew that, like his ancestors, he would live on in his community, even after death. It’s hard for me to imagine that he won’t find peace there.