History
My ancestry research took a dark turn tonight. My great-aunt emailed me some information I was unable to find on my own, which allowed me to go back several generations on my mother's side. While I was searching for historical records on my great-great-great-great-great-grandfather, several entries in the 1860 Federal Census-Slave Schedule appeared. It seems he owned seven slaves, all adults ranging in age from 50 to 21.
For some reason, I had convinced myself that I had escaped this part of my Southern heritage. "They were just poor farmers," I told myself. "Kentucky was a border state." But, apparently, the reason I had not found any other records yet was I just wasn't looking hard enough. More searching of the Slave Schedule revealed several other family members.
I know it was naive to think that my family was not a part of this history. I proudly proclaimed that I felt more fully American after finding out so many of my family members had come here before America was even founded. However, I should have realized that this long history comes with pride and shame.
I also can't help but recognize the irony in discovering this information after a week when race in America filled the news. I guess it gives some helpful perspective. Less than 150 years ago, my family owned human beings, like property. However, that concept was so far out of my realm of reality it was all but completely unfathomable...at least until today.
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