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Memoriam for Ella Jackson Lewis
(August 11, 1910--December 28,
2009)
Remembering Ella Rena
Jackson Lewis
Sister Ella Rena Lewis, age
“99,” affectionately known as “Big Mama” quietly and
peacefully surrendered to the Master’s call at her home
on the evening of Monday, December 28 at Approximately
8:57 pm.
Big Mama’s journey began 99
years ago on August 11, 1910. Can you imagine what her
eyes have seen and what her ears have heard? One of
eight children born of the union of the ate Thomas
Jefferson and Laura Mason Jackson in Sussex County,
Virginia. Hers was an awesome journey. She was a history
book all unto herself. She lived through Jim Crow, the
Wars, the Civil Rights Movement, Martin Luther King, Jr.
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Voters Rights,
radio, television, and now the more advanced
technology of computers and cell phones just
to name a few. Imagine the joy in her heart
when on January 12 our first black President
of the United States was sworn in. Lord
Jesus!
Big Mama was a
true servant of the Lord. She loved the Lord
and accepted Him as her Lord and savior at
an early age. She was a faithful and
dedicated member to Jerusalem Baptist
Church. She loved her church and Jerusalem
loved her. She sang in the choir to His
glory and honor. She attended Sunday School
regularly learning more and more of what
saith the Lord. She was a member of the
Missionary Ministry, Pastor’s Aide Ministry
and a proud Deaconess.
She was educated
in the Sussex County School system and
employed at the Jarratt Motel Restaurant.
Big Mama was a mother that was loved and
adored by her children, grandchildren, and
her community. A love for people kept her
doors open on “welcome hinges.” Her
grandchildren came home every summer and
farmed with joy and pleasure alongside their
“Big Mama.”
She was a
great storyteller.
Close your eyes and you were there with her seeing
all as it was being told. Now that’s a great
storyteller. As much as she loved home, she also
loved to travel to see the world made by her God.
photo
left: Mama, Buster Rivers, and Daddy
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She was a
great storyteller.
Close your eyes and you were there with her seeing
all as it was being told. Now that’s a great
storyteller. As much as she loved home, she also
loved to travel to see the world made by her God.
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Big Mama’s
longevity is attributed to her love
of the Lord, her commitment to
family and friends and simply being
the kind of person God would have
her to be. Happy is the person that
has their hands in God’s hand.
Big Mama lived
a full life. She was married for 44
years to the late William Norman Lewis
(died January 1970). They were blessed
with six children; four of whom preceded
her in death; the late William Thomas
Lewis; the late Virginia Rivers; the
late Lucinda Reid, and the late Edith
Taylor.
photo left:
Jerusalem Baptist Church |
She leaves to cherish her
legacy of love, her daughters, Susie Threatt and Annie
Givens—both of Jarratt, Virginia; 34 grandchildren; 31
great grandchildren; a cherished friend and her running
buddy of 50 years, Lula bell Givens; and a host of
relatives and friends.
But as it is written, "Eye
hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into
the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for
them that love him."—The
Family
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Balance Due,
Always
For Ella Jackson Lewis
(August 11, 1910—December 28, 2009)
The sweet
loam of earth
draws her walnut body like a magnet
iron in a distant embrace
as she tap-taps from room to room.
Her memories of youth & hardship
are ever
clear as a bobwhite’s whistle
as humorous as the echo of
a mockingbird’s song as refreshing
as the
falling morning dew in drought.
What heart forgets
those sacrifices made—
the steered course that freed me
from the racial slights and clutches
that bound her inevitably
to the back porches & kitchens of other
folk,
to the cold cotton fields & scrub boards?
Forgiven but not forgotten
the horrid years of backbreaking sweat
planting, chopping, picking
harvesting—no Xmas of gifts
for five daughters against
the bogus books of balance due.
The sun is
in its downward wing.
as the
shades shorten in the open field.
Old
pleasures and conquests
recede heavily in bloated, sagging flesh.
Her suffering has not been unto death.
Her ship’s spirit still advances
as the grave draws nigh.
Praise-singers are now silent, as a burnish
leaf falls
from ancient oak.
Without pity
or pardon, earth reclaims
the flesh as her spirit
climbs the heavens.
Rudolph
Lewis
December 30,
2009 |
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Friends Respond to a Poet's Loss
Dear Rudy,
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Thank you for
letting me know about the death of your
mama. She had a long and significant life,
and left a tribe of descendants to remember
her and continue, in their various and
sundry ways, her legacy. You should feel no
guilt or feeling of having abandoned her
because you moved and remarried; I'm sure
that she was unaware of your absence. She
was ready to leave. Just think what her
death would have meant to your precarious
residence in her house—a house that now
belongs to her daughters (and not you).
Frankly, my dear, you got out of there just
in time.
Yes, you must
write something about her. I have meant to
tease you about the fact that now that you
have a personal life, you don't write as
much. Remember all those long periods of
silence when I seldom wrote, when you didn't
seem to understand that I was caught up in
some weeks of joy or moments of family
crisis? Well, now you know how it is, and I
have to smile.—Much
love,
Miriam
So Sorry to hear Rudy—will remember
her in my prayers—Pat
Rudy, my
sincere condolences . . . and the best to you & yours
this forth coming year!—bev |
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Rudy, just opened this.
Please, accept my family's condolence on the death of
your grandmother who had been a mother to you. You
loved, and wrote about her so often living in Jerusalem
that she became a familiar figure to readers of
ChickenBones: a Journal.
I remember that so much
of your feelings for your Mama and mine for my mother
Bessie Chiege Iwuji Okeke (d. Nov. 6, 2008) seemed
similar. Today in fact, there was in my hometown
Umuediabali, Ahiazu - a one-year Memorial Service held
for my mother ("Mama,
I Still Think of You").
May the soul of your Mama rest
in peace.—Dr. Rose Ure Mezu
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Dear Rudolph
Return
If we could see that endless point in time
when we shall know for certain that
our journey here has reached its final end
and in some way reel in the flow of life
and from that soaring pinnacle
look back upon this state
when we can live and love
and walk and breathe and
sing and talk and eat and act
and then come back
remembering what we'd seen
no longer lost inside the crashing now
and now of world wave history
smashed in a broken compound eye
a shattered image of a breaking time
then with that timeless vision
we'd live each golden heartbeat
with such a fierce intensity
to drink the music of the sky
study the winding ivy on the branch
feel the excitement of the water in the
stream
dance to the rhythms of the wave
and learn to live in such a way
that joy is everywhere.
Richard
Lawson
2002
The spirit lives on.
Love, Richard
http://greenerblog.blogspot.com/ |
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Rudy, You have may deepest sympathy
for your mother. Stay strong and remember time heals all
wounds.—Craig A.
Garner
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That story
"Conjuring and
Doctoring" is wonderful. I love the
phrase "sweet-water pants" and the language
and the acts of conjuring. I see that the
story was published. Did your papa ever stop
"fooling around"? Whatever happened to
Rebecca? Your mama endured a lotta crap—she's
a better woman than I am! As they say, "The
Lord don't like ugly," so she had the best
revenge: she out-lived him by a long shot.
Which one of your aunts was Busta married
to? —Miriam
painting
by Kaki |
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Miriam, it is quite interesting the
story of Rebecca and Daddy. Of course, I do not know the
truth of the story; however as a boy I did know Rebecca
and her children by John Parker, her husband. From a
story told by Susie, Daddy tried to make it out that it
was Mama and John Parker and that Mama's youngest
daughter, Ann, was John Parker's child. Why Susie would
make her mama out to be a whore I am unsure. But she was
Daddy's favorite and she was the only daughter who drank
daily. I suppose the tear between Mama and her daughter
had a lot to do with Susie's public behavior of running
a bawdy house. Mama often said Susie was going to Hell.
Maybe it was that "tear" that prevented Susie, even in
her late 70s, visiting her mama who lived right across
the field in walking distance. As you know, I was there
at Jerusalem three years and not once did she visit
Mama. One could see her working in her garden in the
mornings and afternoons. She did visit Mama a year ago
at the hospital, shedding crocodile tears, when she
thought Mama was near death. Ann thought such behavior
was unseemly. As I recall, Susie, escorted by her oldest
son Norman (my nemesis as a boy), shed no tears. I do
not think they even clouded up. Well, Susie is 80 now
and maybe with all she has been through nothing phases
her.—Rudy
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Rudy,
Our sincerest condolences on the transition of your
beloved mother. May your memories of her, the love and
wisdom she shared with you sustain you in the days and
months to come. Keep your head up and allow the
knowledge that death is not a final end, only a change
in status lift your spirits as you continue your journey
and life purpose. Stay strong!—Junious
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Dear Rudy, what a
lovely poem of tribute to your mama, a woman strong and
loving, who left a wonderful legacy to her tribe of five
daughters (at least one gone now), grandchildren and
other kinfolk. You did her proud in this poem and the
other words that you spun in her behalf.
I can see her
strength and beauty in that magnificent portrait. She
lived a long and valuable life, but she was ready to go.
(Who is Buster?) I hope that the family will include
your poem in the obituary. Will you attend the funeral?
—Love and peace,
Miriam
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Rudy,
I join you in mourning, to the extent I can.
"Conjuring and Doctoring" is a wonderful story, and
scary. Wishing you and your new wife a happy and healthy
2010.—
David
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I so sorry to hear about your
grandmother passing. She lived a long life. I enjoyed
her hospitality when I visited your home many years
ago. She will be truly missed. Please let me know the
arrangements I would like to send something to the
family.—Sheila
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Dear Rudy, your grandmother
suffered much hardship, but it is good to know that you
made every effort in your power to ease her pain.— Wilson
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Hi Rudy,
I was very sorry to
read your email and learn of your Mom's passing,
December 27.My Mom died December 22nd, just 3 weeks
short of turning 96.
Your poem was very
touching and I know your Mom's life was never easy. I
think there must have been some happiness in her heart,
from you and the care you gave her and from church and
her faith. She did the very best she could under the
extreme circumstances surrounding her in life and now
in heaven, she will be an angel. Some people deserve so
much more than the burden they carried on this earth.
There is nothing fair on this earth, it seems to me.
My Mom told my
sister the day before she died, that her mother and
father came to see her.She was so pleased to have seen
them! When my sister asked, “How is that possible,
they'd be 140 years old,” Mom said, laughing “I know,
isn't it crazy... but honey it's true, they were here.”
It was her time. She used to say
she would not live her life any differently if she could
live it over!
I'll never know where she got her
perseverance! It didn't pass to me! More later. Love and
sympathy—Anita
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Dear Rudy,
I am very sorry to hear of the passing your mother.
Thank you for sharing that beautiful poem. You and your
family are in my thoughts and prayers. May God's peace
be your comfort during your time of mourning. Please
let me know the arrangements. Praying with you—Jennifer
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Dear Rudolph, we are so
sorry to hear about your Mama. You have our sincerest
and deepest sympathy. The poem, Balance Due, Always, is
beautiful! Love never dies.—Elmore
and Jerhretta Dafina
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Rudy, I enjoyed reading
"Balance Due, Always." It reminds me so much of my own
Mama. She was 76. Raised 4 of her own and then me and
about 9 or 10 more children. I remember her working in
white folk's homes so that we could survive. What
memories! She often told me of the fields and washboards
and going without shoes and good underwear sometimes.
It was a hard life. She was born in 1932. Her mom died
after having her. Thanks for reminding me that I, too,
need to write more of Mama's story in memory of her and
her times. I'm sorry for the loss of your beloved.
Hang in there.
I'm down in Southampton today
. Actually, we've been here since Saturday. My
husband's parents live at Cross Keys (an old stomping
ground for Nat Turner-smile). Take care—Latorial
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Greetings
Rudolph...I am so sorry for your loss...my Mom joined
the Ancestors four recent years ago in Nov....it's still
hard...you will have those moments that no words can
console...one day at a time...and somehow time has a way
of easing the pain...I love your poem and the
photograph...what an incredible generation of Black Men
and Women . . . guess this makes you an elder now . . .
hold that torch up high . . . peace.—Tarika
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Rudy, sorry for you
loss. Hope all is well on other fronts. I have a check
set for ChickenBones on 1/17/09. Unfortunately, it will
be the last. it has been really challenging to keep this
in place but I’m glad that we have been able to do it
for the past year and hope that it has been helpful. All
the best—Paul
Coates
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Rudy: My sincerest condolences . .
. You hang in there . . .
Later.—Louis
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I offer my condolences. Memories
will keep her alive. the poem is lovingly crafted.—Dorothy
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Rudy: Sincere sorrow for your loss.—Ben
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Dear Rudy, many condolences, my
brother. My own mother passed Sept. 12, 2001; after the
planes hit the twin towers. Your mom produced a griot/fighter
who expands our Memories. In Solidarity—Askia
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Dear Rudy, "We
shall all meet in heaven, white and black, white and
black." Andrew Jackson on his death-bed." As you know,
dear Rudy, I witnessed the death and home-going of my
mother on her 90th birthday in July.
Like your Mama, she
was born in poverty, hard poverty in SW Missouri. Her
Mama died in child birth when she was 12 and she quit
school to take care of that baby brother and two younger
brothers. Their father was an alcoholic. I will forward
from e mail my son Sam's tribute to her, which was read
as part of her home-going service.
May your health be as restored as
Yvonne has restored your happyness in 2010!—Ralph
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Familistic Condolences & Kwanzaalove 2 u/yrs Rudy . . .—eugene
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What a beautiful tribute to your
mother. I hope they printed it on the funeral program.
She produced a world class poet.—Patricia
Churchill
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Dear Rudy, I am
deeply saddened by your Mama's passing, but
grateful to have known you and your mother
over the years even if its only by Internet
communication. Your mother has done all that
God had her to do, and now she can rest in
peace eternally. I believe that there is a
place where God awaits his children, where
he will wipe away all of the tears of the
years and give them laughter and youth
again. Please accept my and my family's
sympathy as you go through this difficult
time. No matter what, our mothers remain one
of the greatest mysteries and the greatest
blessing of life because without them, where
would we be?
I lost my own mother more than
nine years ago at the young age of 63, and I
continue to grieve, laugh, and ponder each
moment of the time I knew her nearly every
day. I am sure your own mother has left many
great memories with you that will keep you
strong and joyful about the one life that
she was given and how she took care of it
for so long. Thanks for sharing one of the
best poems I have ever read from you. There
is power and passion in the poem even as it
remains a poem. Blessings, and please let us
know how we can be of support as a
community. Much love and hugs—Patricia
Jabbeh Wesley |
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You have my sympathy. My father
used to tell me "There is nothing like a mother's love."—Sandra
L. West
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Sorry
to hear this news. Sending prayers and love.—Ethelbert
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My Prayers for
comfort are with you, Rudy. In this your time of
grieving, you have my deepest sympathy--there are no
words for grief—surely,
your tribute let's me see her, feel her life. Thank you
for sharing. Live. Red Beans and Nicely Sad with You—Mona Lisa
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Dear Rudy, I am
sending you my sincerest condolences at this your most
personal and private loss. Please know that you will
write of many strengths and sacrifices that she showed
you in the course of your life with her. Value these
memories and embrace them as an important part of your
OWN great existence. Prayers, peace and victory—Beverly
Fields Burnette
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Rudy, just beautiful
and timely. I am pleased she is at rest
and I thank God as an eight year old or
younger I got to know your aunt Sal's
baby sister. I will never forget the
young woman in her early forties to the
woman I reacquainted all but two decades
ago. I treasure the time I spent with
her this year and the promise I kept to
her while others doubted my intentions.
She was most happy after the birthday
party given this year and I thanked God
for my daily prayers as her body of clay
made a prisoner of the physical but
could never imprison the true Ella
within. My brother, Rudy I am sad but
relieved her daily suffering is over. I
will see you on Thursday, Lord willing—Buggy
Photo right:
Lucinda , me,
Mama, my sister Theresa, 1997
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Rudy, you have my
utmost sympathy and that of the entire Baraka B'day
Committee. There are no slick words or phrases that
can fill the void. Be glad you had her as long as
you did—Brother
Ted
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Mama’s funeral
Miriam, the funeral for Mama was last
Thursday. Yvonne and I drove down to Jerusalem, taking a
room in nearby Emporia. The grave was dug in the
traditional way, namely, by shovel and hoe wheeled by
human hands. They reached water at 3 feet and you need
at least four for the vault. A removable green grass rug
kept the mud off our shoes. Buster (Samuel Rivers)—the
husband of her oldest daughter, who died sometime
ago—gave directions to the gravedigger. Mama was buried
on Daddy’s left side. Daddy died January 1970.
The ceremonies in word and song from
the pulpit and choir stand were dominated by voices that
truly loved Mama and appreciated her measurement of her
own life and others when faith is at the center of one's
life. There was a family car that followed the hearse
and it included Mama's two remaining daughters, Ann
(70) and Susie (80), their escorts (Norman escorted his
mother Susie), me and Yvonne.
It was a nice service led by two
female religious persons—one was a well-known local
pastor Albertine Mason and the other Vanessa
Rivers (Mama’s niece in law) in training. Clarence
“Peter” Williams led one song of praise, “If You Love
Jesus,” and Sandra Rivers Turner led Mama’s favorite
“Walking in Jerusalem Just Like John.”
The “will” has yet to be read. The
legal handling of Mama’s death will probably begin
Monday following her burial. In short, Mrs. Lewis no
longer lives at Jerusalem.
Ann remains in legal charge of the
estate. She is not easily moved when it comes to
nonsense. Susie seems to have had two insurance policies
on Mama valued at $30,000. Mama left an estate of 20 or
so acres of land. Plus there is the house and property
at Jerusalem, whose disposition is very unclear: it's a
"family home" and the person who owns it is the person
living in it paying the taxes.
They included my poem in the obituary notice.—Love
always,
Rudy
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Dear Rudy,
You and your family
put your mama away beautifully, so I know that she's
smiling, up there with the angels. I didn't realize that
you have only two aunts left, and that their mother
outlived three of them and outlived her husband by
almost 40 years. That's amazing!
So, with water at 3
feet, were they able to bury her? I'm happy that they
included your poem, which is lovely.
Take care. She died
happy because she knew that you loved her, and it was so
good for both of you that you were able to spend those
last couple of years together.—Love,
Miriam
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Family Stories
Black
Mama, White Son
A Response to "Black
Mama, White Son" by Lewis Lawson
The
Confessions of Walter Cotton
Conjuring & Doctoring
Driving
the Blues Away: Or Dying by Degrees Responses
to “Driving the Blues Away”
Dwarf's Lament
Father Son and Mary
The Herbert Lewis Family (photo
exhibit)
Letters
of An Abiding Faith (
Table
of Contents)
Me & the Devil at CrossHairs
Tale for Sam Williams
TeeJay’s Song: Shadows at Midnight
Driving
the Blues Away: Or Dying by Degrees Responses
to “Driving the Blues Away”
Home to Jerusalem
Mockingbirds at Jerusalem
(poetry manuscript)
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Sister Citizen: Shame, Stereotypes, and Black Women in
America
By Melissa V.
Harris-Perry
According to the
author, this society has historically exerted
considerable pressure on black females to fit into one
of a handful of stereotypes, primarily, the Mammy, the
Matriarch or the Jezebel. The selfless
Mammy’s behavior is marked by a slavish devotion to
white folks’ domestic concerns, often at the expense of
those of her own family’s needs. By contrast, the
relatively-hedonistic Jezebel is a sexually-insatiable
temptress. And the Matriarch is generally thought of as
an emasculating figure who denigrates black men, ala the
characters Sapphire and Aunt Esther on the television
shows Amos and Andy and Sanford and Son, respectively.
Professor Perry
points out how the propagation of these harmful myths
have served the mainstream culture well. For instance,
the Mammy suggests that it is almost second nature for
black females to feel a maternal instinct towards
Caucasian babies.
As for the source
of the Jezebel, black women had no control over their
own bodies during slavery given that they were being
auctioned off and bred to maximize profits. Nonetheless,
it was in the interest of plantation owners to propagate
the lie that sisters were sluts inclined to mate
indiscriminately.
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Sex at the Margins
Migration, Labour Markets and the Rescue Industry
By Laura María Agustín
This book explodes several myths: that selling sex is completely different from any other kind of work, that migrants who sell sex are passive victims and that the multitude of people out to save them are without self-interest. Laura Agustín makes a passionate case against these stereotypes, arguing that the label 'trafficked' does not accurately describe migrants' lives and that the 'rescue industry' serves to disempower them. Based on extensive research amongst both migrants who sell sex and social helpers, Sex at the Margins provides a radically different analysis. Frequently, says Agustin, migrants make rational choices to travel and work in the sex industry, and although they are treated like a marginalised group they form part of the dynamic global economy. Both powerful and controversial, this book is essential reading for all those who want to understand the increasingly important relationship between sex markets, migration and the desire for social justice. "Sex at the Margins rips apart distinctions between migrants, service work and sexual labour and reveals the utter complexity of the contemporary sex industry. This book is set to be a trailblazer in the study of sexuality."—Lisa Adkins, University of London |
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The White Masters of the
World
From
The World and Africa, 1965
By W. E. B. Du Bois
W. E. B. Du Bois’
Arraignment and Indictment of White Civilization
(Fletcher)
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Ancient African Nations
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If you like this page consider making a donation
* * * * *
Negro Digest /
Black World
Browse all issues
1950
1960
1965
1970
1975
1980
1985
1990
1995
2000
____ 2005
Enjoy!
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The Death of Emmett Till by Bob Dylan
/
The Lonesome Death of Hattie Carroll
/
Only a Pawn in Their Game
Rev. Jesse Lee Peterson Thanks America for
Slavery
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The Journal of Negro History issues at Project Gutenberg
The
Haitian Declaration of Independence 1804
/
January 1, 1804 -- The Founding of
Haiti
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posted 7 January 2010
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