Family Slavery Free Online Drama dual audio actor Sharon Ifedi


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If it wasn't for slavery there would be no famous blacks like Sammy Davis jr

Cool movie. Archie for president. Wooow I love dis movie 😍😍😍. That my sweet girl Etuk here for u babe. Nice one. I think the Edwards from Vicksburg is my tree also. Most Afross from the Midwest are from Vicksburg, Hattiesburg. Jackson Miss. When Carson offered him tea it reminded me of Get Out. Sounds like a great movie too bad its not in English. How they did not start laughing during this skit, I'll never know. This lady needs a team of assistants like Johnny Cochran. She's got methods, knowledge that MUST go on. It has to be taught to a few predecessors. This work is important and should be funded by hustlers, ball players, etc. 点击这里阅读中文版本 (Chinese. Basahin ang artikulong ito sa Tagalog (Tagalog) Alex Tizon passed away in March. He was a Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist and the author of Big Little Man: In Search of My Asian Self. For more about Alex, please see this editors note. T he ashes filled a black plastic box about the size of a toaster. It weighed three and a half pounds. I put it in a canvas tote bag and packed it in my suitcase this past July for the transpacific flight to Manila. From there I would travel by car to a rural village. When I arrived, I would hand over all that was left of the woman who had spent 56 years as a slave in my familys household. Her name was Eudocia Tomas Pulido. We called her Lola. She was 4 foot 11, with mocha-brown skin and almond eyes that I can still see looking into mine—my first memory. She was 18 years old when my grandfather gave her to my mother as a gift, and when my family moved to the United States, we brought her with us. No other word but slave encompassed the life she lived. Her days began before everyone else woke and ended after we went to bed. She prepared three meals a day, cleaned the house, waited on my parents, and took care of my four siblings and me. My parents never paid her, and they scolded her constantly. She wasnt kept in leg irons, but she might as well have been. So many nights, on my way to the bathroom, Id spot her sleeping in a corner, slumped against a mound of laundry, her fingers clutching a garment she was in the middle of folding. Listen to the audio version of this article: Feature stories, read aloud: download the Audm app for your iPhone. To our American neighbors, we were model immigrants, a poster family. They told us so. My father had a law degree, my mother was on her way to becoming a doctor, and my siblings and I got good grades and always said “please” and “thank you. ” We never talked about Lola. Our secret went to the core of who we were and, at least for us kids, who we wanted to be. After my mother died of leukemia, in 1999, Lola came to live with me in a small town north of Seattle. I had a family, a career, a house in the suburbs—the American dream. And then I had a slave. At baggage claim in Manila, I unzipped my suitcase to make sure Lolas ashes were still there. Outside, I inhaled the familiar smell: a thick blend of exhaust and waste, of ocean and sweet fruit and sweat. Early the next morning I found a driver, an affable middle-aged man who went by the nickname “Doods, ” and we hit the road in his truck, weaving through traffic. The scene always stunned me. The sheer number of cars and motorcycles and jeepneys. The people weaving between them and moving on the sidewalks in great brown rivers. The street vendors in bare feet trotting alongside cars, hawking cigarettes and cough drops and sacks of boiled peanuts. The child beggars pressing their faces against the windows. Doods and I were headed to the place where Lolas story began, up north in the central plains: Tarlac province. Rice country. The home of a cigar-chomping army lieutenant named Tomas Asuncion, my grandfather. The family stories paint Lieutenant Tom as a formidable man given to eccentricity and dark moods, who had lots of land but little money and kept mistresses in separate houses on his property. His wife died giving birth to their only child, my mother. She was raised by a series of utusans, or “people who take commands. ” Slavery has a long history on the islands. Before the Spanish came, islanders enslaved other islanders, usually war captives, criminals, or debtors. Slaves came in different varieties, from warriors who could earn their freedom through valor to household servants who were regarded as property and could be bought and sold or traded. High-status slaves could own low-status slaves, and the low could own the lowliest. Some chose to enter servitude simply to survive: In exchange for their labor, they might be given food, shelter, and protection. When the Spanish arrived, in the 1500s, they enslaved islanders and later brought African and Indian slaves. The Spanish Crown eventually began phasing out slavery at home and in its colonies, but parts of the Philippines were so far-flung that authorities couldnt keep a close eye. Traditions persisted under different guises, even after the U. S. took control of the islands in 1898. Today even the poor can have utusans or katulongs (“helpers”) or kasambahays (“domestics”) as long as there are people even poorer. The pool is deep. Lieutenant Tom had as many as three families of utusans living on his property. In the spring of 1943, with the islands under Japanese occupation, he brought home a girl from a village down the road. She was a cousin from a marginal side of the family, rice farmers. The lieutenant was shrewd—he saw that this girl was penniless, unschooled, and likely to be malleable. Her parents wanted her to marry a pig farmer twice her age, and she was desperately unhappy but had nowhere to go. Tom approached her with an offer: She could have food and shelter if she would commit to taking care of his daughter, who had just turned 12. Lola agreed, not grasping that the deal was for life. “She is my gift to you, ” Lieutenant Tom told my mother. “I dont want her, ” my mother said, knowing she had no choice. Lieutenant Tom went off to fight the Japanese, leaving Mom behind with Lola in his creaky house in the provinces. Lola fed, groomed, and dressed my mother. When they walked to the market, Lola held an umbrella to shield her from the sun. At night, when Lolas other tasks were done—feeding the dogs, sweeping the floors, folding the laundry that she had washed by hand in the Camiling River—she sat at the edge of my mothers bed and fanned her to sleep. Lola Pulido (shown on the left at age 18) came from a poor family in a rural part of the Philippines. The authors grandfather “gave” her to his daughter as a gift.   One day during the war Lieutenant Tom came home and caught my mother in a lie—something to do with a boy she wasnt supposed to talk to. Tom, furious, ordered her to “stand at the table. ” Mom cowered with Lola in a corner. Then, in a quivering voice, she told her father that Lola would take her punishment. Lola looked at Mom pleadingly, then without a word walked to the dining table and held on to the edge. Tom raised the belt and delivered 12 lashes, punctuating each one with a word. You. Do. Not. Lie. To. Me. Lola made no sound. My mother, in recounting this story late in her life, delighted in the outrageousness of it, her tone seeming to say, Can you believe I did that? When I brought it up with Lola, she asked to hear Moms version. She listened intently, eyes lowered, and afterward she looked at me with sadness and said simply, “Yes. It was like that. ” Seven years later, in 1950, Mom married my father and moved to Manila, bringing Lola along. Lieutenant Tom had long been haunted by demons, and in 1951 he silenced them with a. 32‑caliber slug to his temple. Mom almost never talked about it. She had his temperament—moody, imperial, secretly fragile—and she took his lessons to heart, among them the proper way to be a provincial matrona: You must embrace your role as the giver of commands. You must keep those beneath you in their place at all times, for their own good and the good of the household. They might cry and complain, but their souls will thank you. They will love you for helping them be what God intended. Lola at age 27 with Arthur, the authors older brother, before coming to the U. My brother Arthur was born in 1951. I came next, followed by three more siblings in rapid succession. My parents expected Lola to be as devoted to us kids as she was to them. While she looked after us, my parents went to school and earned advanced degrees, joining the ranks of so many others with fancy diplomas but no jobs. Then the big break: Dad was offered a job in Foreign Affairs as a commercial analyst. The salary would be meager, but the position was in America—a place he and Mom had grown up dreaming of, where everything they hoped for could come true. Dad was allowed to bring his family and one domestic. Figuring they would both have to work, my parents needed Lola to care for the kids and the house. My mother informed Lola, and to her great irritation, Lola didnt immediately acquiesce. Years later Lola told me she was terrified. “It was too far, ” she said. “Maybe your Mom and Dad wont let me go home. ” In the end what convinced Lola was my fathers promise that things would be different in America. He told her that as soon as he and Mom got on their feet, theyd give her an “allowance. ” Lola could send money to her parents, to all her relations in the village. Her parents lived in a hut with a dirt floor. Lola could build them a concrete house, could change their lives forever. Imagine. We landed in Los Angeles on May 12, 1964, all our belongings in cardboard boxes tied with rope. Lola had been with my mother for 21 years by then. In many ways she was more of a parent to me than either my mother or my father. Hers was the first face I saw in the morning and the last one I saw at night. As a baby, I uttered Lolas name (which I first pronounced “Oh-ah”) long before I learned to say “Mom” or “Dad. ” As a toddler, I refused to go to sleep unless Lola was holding me, or at least nearby. I was 4 years old when we arrived in the U. —too young to question Lolas place in our family. But as my siblings and I grew up on this other shore, we came to see the world differently. The leap across the ocean brought about a leap in consciousness that Mom and Dad couldnt, or wouldnt, make. Lola never got that allowance. She asked my parents about it in a roundabout way a couple of years into our life in America. Her mother had fallen ill (with what I would later learn was dysentery) and her family couldnt afford the medicine she needed. “ Pwede ba? ” she said to my parents. Is it possible? Mom let out a sigh. “How could you even ask? ” Dad responded in Tagalog. “You see how hard up we are. Dont you have any shame? ” My parents had borrowed money for the move to the U. S., and then borrowed more in order to stay. My father was transferred from the consulate general in L. A. to the Philippine consulate in Seattle. He was paid 5, 600 a year. He took a second job cleaning trailers, and a third as a debt collector. Mom got work as a technician in a couple of medical labs. We barely saw them, and when we did they were often exhausted and snappish. Mom would come home and upbraid Lola for not cleaning the house well enough or for forgetting to bring in the mail. “Didnt I tell you I want the letters here when I come home? ” she would say in Tagalog, her voice venomous. “Its not hard naman! An idiot could remember. ” Then my father would arrive and take his turn. When Dad raised his voice, everyone in the house shrank. Sometimes my parents would team up until Lola broke down crying, almost as though that was their goal. It confused me: My parents were good to my siblings and me, and we loved them. But theyd be affectionate to us kids one moment and vile to Lola the next. I was 11 or 12 when I began to see Lolas situation clearly. By then Arthur, eight years my senior, had been seething for a long time. He was the one who introduced the word slave into my understanding of what Lola was. Before he said it Id thought of her as just an unfortunate member of the household. I hated when my parents yelled at her, but it hadnt occurred to me that they—and the whole arrangement—could be immoral. L: Lola raised the author (left) and his siblings, and was sometimes the only adult at home for days at a time. R: The author (second from the left) with his parents, siblings, and Lola five years after they arrived in the U. “Do you know anybody treated the way shes treated? ” Arthur said. “Who lives the way she lives? ” He summed up Lolas reality: Wasnt paid. Toiled every day. Was tongue-lashed for sitting too long or falling asleep too early. Was struck for talking back. Wore hand-me-downs. Ate scraps and leftovers by herself in the kitchen. Rarely left the house. Had no friends or hobbies outside the family. Had no private quarters. (Her designated place to sleep in each house we lived in was always whatever was left—a couch or storage area or corner in my sisters bedroom. She often slept among piles of laundry. We couldnt identify a parallel anywhere except in slave characters on TV and in the movies. I remember watching a Western called The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance. John Wayne plays Tom Doniphon, a gunslinging rancher who barks orders at his servant, Pompey, whom he calls his “boy. ” Pick him up, Pompey. Pompey, go find the doctor. Get on back to work, Pompey! Docile and obedient, Pompey calls his master “Mistah Tom. ” They have a complex relationship. Tom forbids Pompey from attending school but opens the way for Pompey to drink in a whites-only saloon. Near the end, Pompey saves his master from a fire. Its clear Pompey both fears and loves Tom, and he mourns when Tom dies. All of this is peripheral to the main story of Toms showdown with bad guy Liberty Valance, but I couldnt take my eyes off Pompey. I remember thinking: Lola is Pompey, Pompey is Lola. One night when Dad found out that my sister Ling, who was then 9, had missed dinner, he barked at Lola for being lazy. “I tried to feed her, ” Lola said, as Dad stood over her and glared. Her feeble defense only made him angrier, and he punched her just below the shoulder. Lola ran out of the room and I could hear her wailing, an animal cry. “Ling said she wasnt hungry, ” I said. My parents turned to look at me. They seemed startled. I felt the twitching in my face that usually preceded tears, but I wouldnt cry this time. In Moms eyes was a shadow of something I hadnt seen before. Jealousy? “Are you defending your Lola? ” Dad said. “Is that what youre doing? ” “Ling said she wasnt hungry, ” I said again, almost in a whisper. I was 13. It was my first attempt to stick up for the woman who spent her days watching over me. The woman who used to hum Tagalog melodies as she rocked me to sleep, and when I got older would dress and feed me and walk me to school in the mornings and pick me up in the afternoons. Once, when I was sick for a long time and too weak to eat, she chewed my food for me and put the small pieces in my mouth to swallow. One summer when I had plaster casts on both legs (I had problem joints) she bathed me with a washcloth, brought medicine in the middle of the night, and helped me through months of rehabilitation. I was cranky through it all. She didnt complain or lose patience, ever. To now hear her wailing made me crazy. In the old country, my parents felt no need to hide their treatment of Lola. In America, they treated her worse but took pains to conceal it. When guests came over, my parents would either ignore her or, if questioned, lie and quickly change the subject. For five years in North Seattle, we lived across the street from the Misslers, a rambunctious family of eight who introduced us to things like mustard, salmon fishing, and mowing the lawn. Football on TV. Yelling during football. Lola would come out to serve food and drinks during games, and my parents would smile and thank her before she quickly disappeared. “Whos that little lady you keep in the kitchen? ” Big Jim, the Missler patriarch, once asked. A relative from back home, Dad said. Very shy. Billy Missler, my best friend, didnt buy it. He spent enough time at our house, whole weekends sometimes, to catch glimpses of my familys secret. He once overheard my mother yelling in the kitchen, and when he barged in to investigate found Mom red-faced and glaring at Lola, who was quaking in a corner. I came in a few seconds later. The look on Billys face was a mix of embarrassment and perplexity. What was that? I waved it off and told him to forget it. I think Billy felt sorry for Lola. Hed rave about her cooking, and make her laugh like Id never seen. During sleepovers, shed make his favorite Filipino dish, beef tapa over white rice. Cooking was Lolas only eloquence. I could tell by what she served whether she was merely feeding us or saying she loved us. When I once referred to Lola as a distant aunt, Billy reminded me that when wed first met Id said she was my grandmother. “Well, shes kind of both, ” I said mysteriously. “Why is she always working? ” “She likes to work, ” I said. “Your dad and mom—why do they yell at her? ” “Her hearing isnt so good …” Admitting the truth would have meant exposing us all. We spent our first decade in the country learning the ways of the new land and trying to fit in. Having a slave did not fit. Having a slave gave me grave doubts about what kind of people we were, what kind of place we came from. Whether we deserved to be accepted. I was ashamed of it all, including my complicity. Didnt I eat the food she cooked, and wear the clothes she washed and ironed and hung in the closet? But losing her would have been devastating. There was another reason for secrecy: Lolas travel papers had expired in 1969, five years after we arrived in the U. Shed come on a special passport linked to my fathers job. After a series of fallings-out with his superiors, Dad quit the consulate and declared his intent to stay in the United States. He arranged for permanent-resident status for his family, but Lola wasnt eligible. He was supposed to send her back. Lola at age 51, in 1976. Her mother died a few years before this picture was taken; her father a few years after. Both times, she wanted desperately to go home. Lolas mother, Fermina, died in 1973; her father, Hilario, in 1979. Both times she wanted desperately to go home. Both times my parents said “Sorry. ” No money, no time. The kids needed her. My parents also feared for themselves, they admitted to me later. If the authorities had found out about Lola, as they surely would have if shed tried to leave, my parents could have gotten into trouble, possibly even been deported. They couldnt risk it. Lolas legal status became what Filipinos call tago nang tago, or TNT—“on the run. ” She stayed TNT for almost 20 years. After each of her parents died, Lola was sullen and silent for months. She barely responded when my parents badgered her. But the badgering never let up. Lola kept her head down and did her work. My fathers resignation started a turbulent period. Money got tighter, and my parents turned on each other. They uprooted the family again and again—Seattle to Honolulu back to Seattle to the southeast Bronx and finally to the truck-stop town of Umatilla, Oregon, population 750. During all this moving around, Mom often worked 24-hour shifts, first as a medical intern and then as a resident, and Dad would disappear for days, working odd jobs but also (wed later learn) womanizing and who knows what else. Once, he came home and told us that hed lost our new station wagon playing blackjack. For days in a row Lola would be the only adult in the house. She got to know the details of our lives in a way that my parents never had the mental space for. We brought friends home, and shed listen to us talk about school and girls and boys and whatever else was on our minds. Just from conversations she overheard, she could list the first name of every girl I had a crush on from sixth grade through high school. When I was 15, Dad left the family for good. I didnt want to believe it at the time, but the fact was that he deserted us kids and abandoned Mom after 25 years of marriage. She wouldnt become a licensed physician for another year, and her specialty—internal medicine—wasnt especially lucrative. Dad didnt pay child support, so money was always a struggle. My mom kept herself together enough to go to work, but at night shed crumble in self-pity and despair. Her main source of comfort during this time: Lola. As Mom snapped at her over small things, Lola attended to her even more—cooking Moms favorite meals, cleaning her bedroom with extra care. Id find the two of them late at night at the kitchen counter, griping and telling stories about Dad, sometimes laughing wickedly, other times working themselves into a fury over his transgressions. They barely noticed us kids flitting in and out. One night I heard Mom weeping and ran into the living room to find her slumped in Lolas arms. Lola was talking softly to her, the way she used to with my siblings and me when we were young. I lingered, then went back to my room, scared for my mom and awed by Lola. Doods was humming. Id dozed for what felt like a minute and awoke to his happy melody. “Two hours more, ” he said. I checked the plastic box in the tote bag by my side—still there—and looked up to see open road. The MacArthur Highway. I glanced at the time. “Hey, you said ‘two hours two hours ago, ” I said. Doods just hummed. His not knowing anything about the purpose of my journey was a relief. I had enough interior dialogue going on. I was no better than my parents. I could have done more to free Lola. To make her life better. Why didnt I? I could have turned in my parents, I suppose. It would have blown up my family in an instant. Instead, my siblings and I kept everything to ourselves, and rather than blowing up in an instant, my family broke apart slowly. Doods and I passed through beautiful country. Not travel-brochure beautiful but real and alive and, compared with the city, elegantly spare. Mountains ran parallel to the highway on each side, the Zambales Mountains to the west, the Sierra Madre Range to the east. From ridge to ridge, west to east, I could see every shade of green all the way to almost black. Doods pointed to a shadowy outline in the distance. Mount Pinatubo. Id come here in 1991 to report on the aftermath of its eruption, the second-largest of the 20th century. Volcanic mudflows called lahars continued for more than a decade, burying ancient villages, filling in rivers and valleys, and wiping out entire ecosystems. The lahars reached deep into the foothills of Tarlac province, where Lolas parents had spent their entire lives, and where she and my mother had once lived together. So much of our family record had been lost in wars and floods, and now parts were buried under 20 feet of mud. Life here is routinely visited by cataclysm. Killer typhoons that strike several times a year. Bandit insurgencies that never end. Somnolent mountains that one day decide to wake up. The Philippines isnt like China or Brazil, whose mass might absorb the trauma. This is a nation of scattered rocks in the sea. When disaster hits, the place goes under for a while. Then it resurfaces and life proceeds, and you can behold a scene like the one Doods and I were driving through, and the simple fact that its still there makes it beautiful. Rice fields in Mayantoc, near where Lola was born A couple of years after my parents split, my mother remarried and demanded Lolas fealty to her new husband, a Croatian immigrant named Ivan, whom she had met through a friend. Ivan had never finished high school. Hed been married four times and was an inveterate gambler who enjoyed being supported by my mother and attended to by Lola. Ivan brought out a side of Lola Id never seen. His marriage to my mother was volatile from the start, and money—especially his use of her money—was the main issue. Once, during an argument in which Mom was crying and Ivan was yelling, Lola walked over and stood between them. She turned to Ivan and firmly said his name. He looked at Lola, blinked, and sat down. My sister Inday and I were floored. Ivan was about 250 pounds, and his baritone could shake the walls. Lola put him in his place with a single word. I saw this happen a few other times, but for the most part Lola served Ivan unquestioningly, just as Mom wanted her to. I had a hard time watching Lola vassalize herself to another person, especially someone like Ivan. But what set the stage for my blowup with Mom was something more mundane. She used to get angry whenever Lola felt ill. She didnt want to deal with the disruption and the expense, and would accuse Lola of faking or failing to take care of herself. Mom chose the second tack when, in the late 1970s, Lolas teeth started falling out. Shed been saying for months that her mouth hurt. “Thats what happens when you dont brush properly, ” Mom told her. I said that Lola needed to see a dentist. She was in her 50s and had never been to one. I was attending college an hour away, and I brought it up again and again on my frequent trips home. A year went by, then two. Lola took aspirin every day for the pain, and her teeth looked like a crumbling Stonehenge. One night, after watching her chew bread on the side of her mouth that still had a few good molars, I lost it. Mom and I argued into the night, each of us sobbing at different points. She said she was tired of working her fingers to the bone supporting everybody, and sick of her children always taking Lolas side, and why didnt we just take our goddamn Lola, shed never wanted her in the first place, and she wished to God she hadnt given birth to an arrogant, sanctimonious phony like me. I let her words sink in. Then I came back at her, saying she would know all about being a phony, her whole life was a masquerade, and if she stopped feeling sorry for herself for one minute shed see that Lola could barely eat because her goddamn teeth were rotting out of her goddamn head, and couldnt she think of her just this once as a real person instead of a slave kept alive to serve her? “A slave, ” Mom said, weighing the word. “A slave? ” The night ended when she declared that I would never understand her relationship with Lola. Never. Her voice was so guttural and pained that thinking of it even now, so many years later, feels like a punch to the stomach. Its a terrible thing to hate your own mother, and that night I did. The look in her eyes made clear that she felt the same way about me. The fight only fed Moms fear that Lola had stolen the kids from her, and she made Lola pay for it. Mom drove her harder. Tormented her by saying, “I hope youre happy now that your kids hate me. ” When we helped Lola with housework, Mom would fume. “Youd better go to sleep now, Lola, ” shed say sarcastically. “Youve been working too hard. Your kids are worried about you. ” Later shed take Lola into a bedroom for a talk, and Lola would walk out with puffy eyes. Lola finally begged us to stop trying to help her. Why do you stay? we asked. “Who will cook? ” she said, which I took to mean, Who would do everything? Who would take care of us? Of Mom? Another time she said, “Where will I go? ” This struck me as closer to a real answer. Coming to America had been a mad dash, and before we caught a breath a decade had gone by. We turned around, and a second decade was closing out. Lolas hair had turned gray. Shed heard that relatives back home who hadnt received the promised support were wondering what had happened to her. She was ashamed to return. She had no contacts in America, and no facility for getting around. Phones puzzled her. Mechanical things—ATMs, intercoms, vending machines, anything with a keyboard—made her panic. Fast-talking people left her speechless, and her own broken English did the same to them. She couldnt make an appointment, arrange a trip, fill out a form, or order a meal without help. I got Lola an ATM card linked to my bank account and taught her how to use it. She succeeded once, but the second time she got flustered, and she never tried again. She kept the card because she considered it a gift from me. I also tried to teach her to drive. She dismissed the idea with a wave of her hand, but I picked her up and carried her to the car and planted her in the drivers seat, both of us laughing. I spent 20 minutes going over the controls and gauges. Her eyes went from mirthful to terrified. When I turned on the ignition and the dashboard lit up, she was out of the car and in the house before I could say another word. I tried a couple more times. I thought driving could change her life. She could go places. And if things ever got unbearable with Mom, she could drive away forever. Four lanes became two, pavement turned to gravel. Tricycle drivers wove between cars and water buffalo pulling loads of bamboo. An occasional dog or goat sprinted across the road in front of our truck, almost grazing the bumper. Doods never eased up. Whatever didnt make it across would be stew today instead of tomorrow—the rule of the road in the provinces. I took out a map and traced the route to the village of Mayantoc, our destination. Out the window, in the distance, tiny figures folded at the waist like so many bent nails. People harvesting rice, the same way they had for thousands of years. We were getting close. I tapped the cheap plastic box and regretted not buying a real urn, made of porcelain or rosewood. What would Lolas people think? Not that many were left. Only one sibling remained in the area, Gregoria, 98 years old, and I was told her memory was failing. Relatives said that whenever she heard Lolas name, shed burst out crying and then quickly forget why. L: Lola and the author in 2008. R: The author with Lolas sister Gregoria. Id been in touch with one of Lolas nieces. She had the day planned: When I arrived, a low-key memorial, then a prayer, followed by the lowering of the ashes into a plot at the Mayantoc Eternal Bliss Memorial Park. It had been five years since Lola died, but I hadnt yet said the final goodbye that I knew was about to happen. All day I had been feeling intense grief and resisting the urge to let it out, not wanting to wail in front of Doods. More than the shame I felt for the way my family had treated Lola, more than my anxiety about how her relatives in Mayantoc would treat me, I felt the terrible heaviness of losing her, as if she had died only the day before. Doods veered northwest on the Romulo Highway, then took a sharp left at Camiling, the town Mom and Lieutenant Tom came from. Two lanes became one, then gravel turned to dirt. The path ran along the Camiling River, clusters of bamboo houses off to the side, green hills ahead. The homestretch. I gave the eulogy at Moms funeral, and everything I said was true. That she was brave and spirited. That shed drawn some short straws, but had done the best she could. That she was radiant when she was happy. That she adored her children, and gave us a real home—in Salem, Oregon—that through the 80s and 90s became the permanent base wed never had before. That I wished we could thank her one more time. That we all loved her. I didnt talk about Lola. Just as I had selectively blocked Lola out of my mind when I was with Mom during her last years. Loving my mother required that kind of mental surgery. It was the only way we could be mother and son—which I wanted, especially after her health started to decline, in the mid‑90s. Diabetes. Breast cancer. Acute myelogenous leukemia, a fast-growing cancer of the blood and bone marrow. She went from robust to frail seemingly overnight. After the big fight, I mostly avoided going home, and at age 23 I moved to Seattle. When I did visit I saw a change. Mom was still Mom, but not as relentlessly. She got Lola a fine set of dentures and let her have her own bedroom. She cooperated when my siblings and I set out to change Lolas TNT status. Ronald Reagans landmark immigration bill of 1986 made millions of illegal immigrants eligible for amnesty. It was a long process, but Lola became a citizen in October 1998, four months after my mother was diagnosed with leukemia. Mom lived another year. During that time, she and Ivan took trips to Lincoln City, on the Oregon coast, and sometimes brought Lola along. Lola loved the ocean. On the other side were the islands she dreamed of returning to. And Lola was never happier than when Mom relaxed around her. An afternoon at the coast or just 15 minutes in the kitchen reminiscing about the old days in the province, and Lola would seem to forget years of torment. I couldnt forget so easily. But I did come to see Mom in a different light. Before she died, she gave me her journals, two steamer trunks full. Leafing through them as she slept a few feet away, I glimpsed slices of her life that Id refused to see for years. Shed gone to medical school when not many women did. Shed come to America and fought for respect as both a woman and an immigrant physician. Shed worked for two decades at Fairview Training Center, in Salem, a state institution for the developmentally disabled. The irony: She tended to underdogs most of her professional life. They worshipped her. Female colleagues became close friends. They did silly, girly things together—shoe shopping, throwing dress-up parties at one anothers homes, exchanging gag gifts like penis-shaped soaps and calendars of half-naked men, all while laughing hysterically. Looking through their party pictures reminded me that Mom had a life and an identity apart from the family and Lola. Of course. Mom wrote in great detail about each of her kids, and how she felt about us on a given day—proud or loving or resentful. And she devoted volumes to her husbands, trying to grasp them as complex characters in her story. We were all persons of consequence. Lola was incidental. When she was mentioned at all, she was a bit character in someone elses story. “Lola walked my beloved Alex to his new school this morning. I hope he makes new friends quickly so he doesnt feel so sad about moving again …” There might be two more pages about me, and no other mention of Lola. The day before Mom died, a Catholic priest came to the house to perform last rites. Lola sat next to my mothers bed, holding a cup with a straw, poised to raise it to Moms mouth. She had become extra attentive to my mother, and extra kind. She could have taken advantage of Mom in her feebleness, even exacted revenge, but she did the opposite. The priest asked Mom whether there was anything she wanted to forgive or be forgiven for. She scanned the room with heavy-lidded eyes, said nothing. Then, without looking at Lola, she reached over and placed an open hand on her head. She didnt say a word. Lola was 75 when she came to stay with me. I was married with two young daughters, living in a cozy house on a wooded lot. From the second story, we could see Puget Sound. We gave Lola a bedroom and license to do whatever she wanted: sleep in, watch soaps, do nothing all day. She could relax—and be free—for the first time in her life. I should have known it wouldnt be that simple. Id forgotten about all the things Lola did that drove me a little crazy. She was always telling me to put on a sweater so I wouldnt catch a cold (I was in my 40s. She groused incessantly about Dad and Ivan: My father was lazy, Ivan was a leech. I learned to tune her out. Harder to ignore was her fanatical thriftiness. She threw nothing out. And she used to go through the trash to make sure that the rest of us hadnt thrown out anything useful. She washed and reused paper towels again and again until they disintegrated in her hands. (No one else would go near them. The kitchen became glutted with grocery bags, yogurt containers, and pickle jars, and parts of our house turned into storage for—theres no other word for it—garbage. She cooked breakfast even though none of us ate more than a banana or a granola bar in the morning, usually while we were running out the door. She made our beds and did our laundry. She cleaned the house. I found myself saying to her, nicely at first, “Lola, you dont have to do that. ” “Lola, well do it ourselves. ” “Lola, thats the girls job. ” Okay, shed say, but keep right on doing it. It irritated me to catch her eating meals standing in the kitchen, or see her tense up and start cleaning when I walked into the room. One day, after several months, I sat her down. “Im not Dad. Youre not a slave here, ” I said, and went through a long list of slavelike things shed been doing. When I realized she was startled, I took a deep breath and cupped her face, that elfin face now looking at me searchingly. I kissed her forehead. “This is your house now, ” I said. “Youre not here to serve us. You can relax, okay? ” “Okay, ” she said. And went back to cleaning. She didnt know any other way to be. I realized I had to take my own advice and relax. If she wanted to make dinner, let her. Thank her and do the dishes. I had to remind myself constantly: Let her be. One night I came home to find her sitting on the couch doing a word puzzle, her feet up, the TV on. Next to her, a cup of tea. She glanced at me, smiled sheepishly with those perfect white dentures, and went back to the puzzle. Progress, I thought. She planted a garden in the backyard—roses and tulips and every kind of orchid—and spent whole afternoons tending it. She took walks around the neighborhood. At about 80, her arthritis got bad and she began walking with a cane. In the kitchen she went from being a fry cook to a kind of artisanal chef who created only when the spirit moved her. She made lavish meals and grinned with pleasure as we devoured them. Passing the door of Lolas bedroom, Id often hear her listening to a cassette of Filipino folk songs. The same tape over and over. I knew shed been sending almost all her money—my wife and I gave her 200 a week—to relatives back home. One afternoon, I found her sitting on the back deck gazing at a snapshot someone had sent of her village. “You want to go home, Lola? ” She turned the photograph over and traced her finger across the inscription, then flipped it back and seemed to study a single detail. “Yes, ” she said. Just after her 83rd birthday, I paid her airfare to go home. Id follow a month later to bring her back to the U. —if she wanted to return. The unspoken purpose of her trip was to see whether the place she had spent so many years longing for could still feel like home. She found her answer. “Everything was not the same, ” she told me as we walked around Mayantoc. The old farms were gone. Her house was gone. Her parents and most of her siblings were gone. Childhood friends, the ones still alive, were like strangers. It was nice to see them, but … everything was not the same. Shed still like to spend her last years here, she said, but she wasnt ready yet. “Youre ready to go back to your garden, ” I said. “Yes. Lets go home. ” L: Lola returned to the Philippines for an extended visit after her 83rd birthday. R: Lola with her sister Juliana, reunited after 65 years. Lola was as devoted to my daughters as shed been to my siblings and me when we were young. After school, shed listen to their stories and make them something to eat. And unlike my wife and me (especially me) Lola enjoyed every minute of every school event and performance. She couldnt get enough of them. She sat up front, kept the programs as mementos. It was so easy to make Lola happy. We took her on family vacations, but she was as excited to go to the farmers market down the hill. She became a wide-eyed kid on a field trip: “Look at those zucchinis! ” The first thing she did every morning was open all the blinds in the house, and at each window shed pause to look outside. And she taught herself to read. It was remarkable. Over the years, shed somehow learned to sound out letters. She did those puzzles where you find and circle words within a block of letters. Her room had stacks of word-puzzle booklets, thousands of words circled in pencil. Every day she watched the news and listened for words she recognized. She triangulated them with words in the newspaper, and figured out the meanings. She came to read the paper every day, front to back. Dad used to say she was simple. I wondered what she could have been if, instead of working the rice fields at age 8, she had learned to read and write. Lola at age 82 During the 12 years she lived in our house, I asked her questions about herself, trying to piece together her life story, a habit she found curious. To my inquiries she would often respond first with “Why? ” Why did I want to know about her childhood? About how she met Lieutenant Tom? I tried to get my sister Ling to ask Lola about her love life, thinking Lola would be more comfortable with her. Ling cackled, which was her way of saying I was on my own. One day, while Lola and I were putting away groceries, I just blurted it out: “Lola, have you ever been romantic with anyone? ” She smiled, and then she told me the story of the only time shed come close. She was about 15, and there was a handsome boy named Pedro from a nearby farm. For several months they harvested rice together side by side. One time, she dropped her bolo —a cutting implement—and he quickly picked it up and handed it back to her. “I liked him, ” she said. Silence. “And? ” “Then he moved away, ” she said. “And? ” “Thats all. ” “Lola, have you ever had sex? ” I heard myself saying. “No, ” she said. She wasnt accustomed to being asked personal questions. “ Katulong lang ako, ” shed say. Im only a servant. She often gave one- or two-word answers, and teasing out even the simplest story was a game of 20 questions that could last days or weeks. Some of what I learned: She was mad at Mom for being so cruel all those years, but she nevertheless missed her. Sometimes, when Lola was young, shed felt so lonely that all she could do was cry. I knew there were years when shed dreamed of being with a man. I saw it in the way she wrapped herself around one large pillow at night. But what she told me in her old age was that living with Moms husbands made her think being alone wasnt so bad. She didnt miss those two at all. Maybe her life would have been better if shed stayed in Mayantoc, gotten married, and had a family like her siblings. But maybe it would have been worse. Two younger sisters, Francisca and Zepriana, got sick and died. A brother, Claudio, was killed. Whats the point of wondering about it now? she asked. Bahala na was her guiding principle. Come what may. What came her way was another kind of family. In that family, she had eight children: Mom, my four siblings and me, and now my two daughters. The eight of us, she said, made her life worth living. None of us was prepared for her to die so suddenly. Her heart attack started in the kitchen while she was making dinner and I was running an errand. When I returned she was in the middle of it. A couple of hours later at the hospital, before I could grasp what was happening, she was gone—10:56 p. m. All the kids and grandkids noted, but were unsure how to take, that she died on November 7, the same day as Mom. Twelve years apart. Lola made it to 86. I can still see her on the gurney. I remember looking at the medics standing above this brown woman no bigger than a child and thinking that they had no idea of the life she had lived. Shed had none of the self-serving ambition that drives most of us, and her willingness to give up everything for the people around her won her our love and utter loyalty. Shes become a hallowed figure in my extended family. Going through her boxes in the attic took me months. I found recipes she had cut out of magazines in the 1970s for when she would someday learn to read. Photo albums with pictures of my mom. Awards my siblings and I had won from grade school on, most of which we had thrown away and she had “saved. ” I almost lost it one night when at the bottom of a box I found a stack of yellowed newspaper articles Id written and long ago forgotten about. She couldnt read back then, but shed kept them anyway. The site of Lolas childhood home Doodss truck pulled up to a small concrete house in the middle of a cluster of homes mostly made of bamboo and plank wood. Surrounding the pod of houses: rice fields, green and seemingly endless. Before I even got out of the truck, people started coming outside. Doods reclined his seat to take a nap. I hung my tote bag on my shoulder, took a breath, and opened the door. “This way, ” a soft voice said, and I was led up a short walkway to the concrete house. Following close behind was a line of about 20 people, young and old, but mostly old. Once we were all inside, they sat down on chairs and benches arranged along the walls, leaving the middle of the room empty except for me. I remained standing, waiting to meet my host. It was a small room, and dark. People glanced at me expectantly. “Where is Lola? ” A voice from another room. The next moment, a middle-aged woman in a housedress sauntered in with a smile. Ebia, Lolas niece. This was her house. She gave me a hug and said again, “Where is Lola? ” Lolas grave site I slid the tote bag from my shoulder and handed it to her. She looked into my face, still smiling, gently grasped the bag, and walked over to a wooden bench and sat down. She reached inside and pulled out the box and looked at every side. “Where is Lola? ” she said softly. People in these parts dont often get their loved ones cremated. I dont think she knew what to expect. She set the box on her lap and bent over so her forehead rested on top of it, and at first I thought she was laughing (out of joy) but I quickly realized she was crying. Her shoulders began to heave, and then she was wailing—a deep, mournful, animal howl, like I once heard coming from Lola. I hadnt come sooner to deliver Lolas ashes in part because I wasnt sure anyone here cared that much about her. I hadnt expected this kind of grief. Before I could comfort Ebia, a woman walked in from the kitchen and wrapped her arms around her, and then she began wailing. The next thing I knew, the room erupted with sound. The old people—one of them blind, several with no teeth—were all crying and not holding anything back. It lasted about 10 minutes. I was so fascinated that I barely noticed the tears running down my own face. The sobs died down, and then it was quiet again. Ebia sniffled and said it was time to eat. Everybody started filing into the kitchen, puffy-eyed but suddenly lighter and ready to tell stories. I glanced at the empty tote bag on the bench, and knew it was right to bring Lola back to the place where shed been born. Related Video Alex Tizon was a Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist and the author of Big Little Man: In Search of My Asian Self.

Two classy dudes. You'll never see guys like this on the TV again. What a golden era. How you never remember meeting a CHILDHOOD Friend. 1. How to Start Researching ancestors believed to have been enslaved can be challenging, since the record trail is spotty prior to 1865. The 1870 federal population census, the first on which former slaves are listed by name, can be confusing because individuals with shared surnames may be family members or former owners. Even if one knows that an ancestor was born during slavery, work backwards from the most current census (currently 1940) to the earliest known record of the ancestor(s. Searching all known and suspected family members' births, deaths, and marriages, often identifies connections not immediately obvious. Co-habitation records – available at the county level. not only indicate the number of years a couple has lived together as husband and wife but also confirm the family belief that the ancestor was born in slavery. Other county records, such as deeds, estates, and tax lists, cemetery records, Bible records, and church records, can also contain valuable information. Freedmens Bureau, Freedmans Savings and Trust Company records, and WPA slave narratives may also prove useful. 2. Census Records Slaves were enumerated on all federal census records from 1790 to 1860, but not by name. From the 1870 census (in which all persons were named) proceed backwards to the 1860 and 1850 slave schedules that list, under the name of the owner, each slave only by sex, specific age, and color. 1870 census excerpt with African Americans listed by name. Elizabeth City Township, Pasquotank County, NC, page 18. Look for a male or female (and his family, if appropriate) who is 10 and 20 years younger than the individual(s) previously identified on the 1870 census schedule. The 1790, 1800, and 1810 census schedules indicate only the total number of slaves, but the 1820, 1830, and 1840 censuses list slaves by sex and age range. Because slave information is only available from their former owners' records, you will need to learn as much as possible about the owner and his family: his wife and in-laws, his children and whom each married, even the church he attended. One could acquire slaves through purchase, inheritance, marriage, and natural "increase" the children, grandchildren, etc., of enslaved adults. 3. County Records Records of slave ownership may be public or private. Public records are those created by the owner as required by local, state, and national governments. Local records, i. e., the county records in North Carolina, are the most fruitful for genealogists. These record marriages of owners, deeds of gift or deeds of trust of slaves, purchase or sale of slaves, transfers of land among family members, property, and records of actions in the local county courts. The miscellaneous records of some North Carolina counties include some slave records. William L. Byrd III and John H. Smith, for example, have transcribed records for a number of counties in the series North Carolina Slaves and Free Persons of Color, published by Heritage Books. Most early North Carolina county records are housed in the State Archives of North Carolina. County Records Box Lists show records for each county, whether original or microfilmed, that are available for research in the Archives Search Room. 4. Private Records Private records  (family Bibles recording their births or deaths [like the one at right] business ledgers, contracts, leases, and other records relating to the health and work of their slaves) are kept by owner(s. Since these are personal records are for private use, they may be difficult to find. Those that have survived may still be in the possession of the former owner's family, in a manuscript collection, or in an archives. The Guide to Private Manuscript Collections in the State Archives of North Carolina, edited by Barbara T. Cain, Ellen Z. McGrew, and Charles E. Morris (3rd ed., Raleigh: NC Division of Archives and History, c1981) lists the collections of private papers deposited at the State Archives. The Southern Historical Collection at UNC—Chapel Hill and Perkins Library at Duke University also have outstanding manuscript collections. Records of white churches, generally held in their respective church repositories, are another category of private record to review, as slaves often were members of the local white churches or were permitted to worship at their owners churches. Slave Records Bibliography Websites Born in Slavery: Slave Narratives from the Federal Writers Project, 1936-1938. Online (American Memory) Manuscript Division and Prints and Photographs Division, Library of Congress. Freedmans Bank Records. 27 reels National Archives microfilm Record Group 101; CD-ROM, Salt Lake City, UT: Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 2000; HeritageQuest database. (Available remotely to NC residents via NC LIVE through their local libraries. Includes signatures of and personal identification data about depositors in 29 branch offices of the Freemans Savings and Trust Company, 1865-74. ] University Press of Virginia, Charlottesville, VA. Afro-American Sources in Virginia: A Guide to Manuscripts, Michael Plunkett, Editor, and Guide to African American Documentary Resources in North Carolina, Timothy D. Pyatt, Editor. Woodtor, Dee Parmer. Finding a Place Called Down home: A Guide to African American Genealogy and Historical Identity. New York: Random House, 1999. [Her Interactive Guide for Beginners is highly recommended. ] Books Burroughs, Tony. Black Roots, a Beginners Guide to Tracing the African-American Family Tree. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2001. Byrd, William L., III, and John H. Smith. North Carolina Slaves and Free Persons of Color series. Westminster, MD: Heritage Books, 2000. Catterall, Helen Tunnicliff. Judicial Cases Concerning American Slavery and the Negro. 5 volumes. Washington, DC: Carnegie Institution of Washington, 1926-37. Cooper, Jean L. A Genealogical Index to the Guides of the Microfilm Edition of Records of Ante-bellum Southern Plantations from the Revolution through the Civil War. Bloomington, IN: 1st Books, c2003. Federal Writers Project [WPA. Slave Narratives: A Folk History of Slavery in the United States, from Interviews with Former Slaves. 17 volumes. Reprint, St. Clair Shores, MI: Scholarly Press, 1976. [Volumes 13 and 14 are North Carolina. Also available through Rose, James M., and Alice Eichholz. Black Genesis: A Resource Book for African-American Genealogy. Baltimore: Genealogical Publishing Company, 2003. Streets, David H. Slave Genealogy: A Research Guide with Case Studies. Bowie, MD: Heritage Books, 1986. Thackery, David T., and Dee Woodtor. Case Studies in Afro-American Genealogy. Chicago: The Newberry Library, 1989. Thackery, David T. Finding Your African American Ancestors: A Beginners Guide. Orem, UT: Ancestry, c2000. White, Barnetta McGhee, compiler. Somebody Knows My Name: Marriages of Freed People in North Carolina County by County. 3 volumes. Athens, GA: Iberian Pub. Co., c1995. Witcher, Curt B. African American Genealogy: A Bibliography and Guide to Sources. Fort Wayne, IN: Round Tower Books, 2000. Articles Brasfield, Curtis. “ ‘To My Daughter and the Heirs of Her Body: Slave Passages As Illustrated by the Latham-Smithwick Family. ” National Genealogical Society Quarterly 81 (December 1993) 270-282. Brasfield, Curtis G. “Tracing Slave Ancestors: Batchelor, Bradley, Branch, and Wright of Desha County Arkansas. ” National Genealogical Society Quarterly 92 (March 2004) 6-30. Jupiter, Del E. “From Agustina to Ester: Analyzing a Slave Household for Child-Parent Relationships. ” National Genealogical Society Quarterly 85 (December 1997) 245-275. Lennon, Rachal Mills, and Elizabeth Shown Mill. “Mother, Thy Name Is Mystery! Finding the Slave Who Bore Philomene Daurat. ” National Genealogical Society Quarterly 88 (September 2000) 201-224. McBride, Ransom. “Searching for the Past of the North Carolina Black Family in Local, Regional, and Federal Records Resources. ” North Carolina Genealogical Society Journal 9 (May 1983) 66-77. Mallory, Rudena Kramer. “An African-American Odyssey through Multiple Surnames: Mortons, Tapps, and Englishes of Kansas and Missouri. ” National Genealogical Society Quarterly 85 (March 1997) 25-38. Mills, Gary B. Notes and Documents: “Can Researchers ‘Prove the ‘Unprovable? A Selective Bibliography of Efforts to Genealogically Document Children of Master-Slave Relationships. ” National Genealogical Society Quarterly 89 (September 2001) 234-237. Nordmann, Christopher A. “Jumping Over the Broomstick: Resources for Documenting Slave ‘Marriages. ” National Genealogical Society Quarterly 91 (September 2003) 196-216. Peebles, Minnie K. “Black Genealogy. ” North Carolina Historical Review 55 (Spring 1978) 164-173. Randall, Ruth. “An Interracial Suit for Inheritance: Clues to Probable Paternity for a Georgia Freedman, Henry Clay Heard Sherman. ” National Genealogical Society Quarterly 89 (June 2001) 85-97. Rapport, Sara. “The Freedmens Bureau As a Legal Agent for Black Men and Women in Georgia: 1865-1868. ” Georgia Historical Quarterly 73 (Spring 1989) 26-53. Ruffin, C. Bernard, III. “In Search of the Unappreciated Past: The Ruffin-Cornick Family of Virginia. ” National Genealogical Society Quarterly 81 (June 1993) 126-138. Williams, Gary M. “Links Before Emancipation: Afro-American Slave Genealogy in Virginia. ” Magazine of Virginia Genealogy 32 (February 1994) 3-10. Learn More: Printable version of this article (pdf) Tracking Back to North Carolina (pdf) Vital Records in North Carolina Vital Records Substitutes (pdf) Slave Schedules tutorial (video.

A friend in need is a friend deed be Very careful of who u call yr friend wow that's a stab in the back. Some of these slave owners of the 20th century may still be alive & should have to serve time for their crimes. Read My Journey from Jesus Christ to the Almighty Black Power that Creates and Destroy by Ionie Bonnie, get it on Amazon, it is the missing link. I stand corrected. Archie did say, onscreen, that the kiss was in Davis, Jr's contract. Sammy Davis Jr... Looking for a simple way to search millions of records from dozens of genealogy websites in one place? This free genealogy search engine allows you to quickly locate documents for your family tree on a wide variety of large research sites, in state and regional archives and on government record pages. Weve utilized Googles powerful search engine to provide a custom search that ONLY returns results from genealogy research sites with access to free records. We update this engine regularly with new sites. You will find birth, death, marriage and immigration records, archived newspapers, national archives, censuses, family books, biographies and much more. We have made every effort to make sure that the   sites searched by this engine are 100% free. However, some may ask you to sign up for free access and others may link to additional resources that cost a fee. Please keep that in mind when searching. To increase your chance of finding a match for your ancestors try multiple searches and use operators such as quotations for exact results (“James Weston”) and a minus sign to remove terms you do not want to include ( Oakwood. This search box is temporarily unavailable.

Childhood frnd my foot. You systems Flash Player must be up to date – version 10. 4. 3 or later (You will be prompted to update your flash player if necessary. The Moment Responding to Hate in Your School Community This week, national media reported on a Michigan school community meeting when, during a discussion of racism in schools, one parent asked another, “Why didnt you stay in Mexico? ” We stand with those in Michigan demanding better, and we know students and families are faced with racism and other forms of hate in school communities across the nation. Heres how educators can help create safer, more inclusive school climates and support students and families. View, discuss and share the moment Never miss a Moment. Subscribe, share and see past Moments using these options. #USvsHate With #USvsHate, students of all ages are invited to create public anti-hate messages in any media for their school communities. Our national challenge then amplifies these student messages for a nationwide audience. Join the Challenge.

I meant so sad to see this show go.
The Virginia Museum of History & Culture launched Unknown No Longer in 2011 to make accessible biographical details of enslaved Virginians from unpublished historical records in its collections. At the beginning of 2019, the unique content of Unknown No Longer was moved to be hosted on the Virginia Untold portal operated by the Library of Virginia, providing users with access to an expanded collection of resources for researching African American history in Virginia. Researchers can still access the original documents in the VMHC's library, and we will continue to update both the Unknown No Longer database and our Guide to African American Manuscripts as new sources enter our catalog. Explore Unknown No Longer:  A Database of Virginia Slave Names. Unknown No Longer is sponsored in part by a generous grant from Dominion Energy, a Fortune 200 energy company headquartered in Richmond, Virginia. You might also be interested in.
I like the first part of the film, but where is the second part.
I love how Sammy's just sitting there, stone-faced at what Archie's saying.

8 / 10 - 9015 votes Played 2 443 383 times Puzzle Games Quiz Join the famous TV game show "Family Feud" with this free online version in English. Surveys were conducted with a panel of 1, 000 people and you'll have to answer the various questions by trying to find the most often cited proposals. By getting an above average rating on the first 4 questions, you will qualify for the final quiz. You will then have 55 seconds to answer five new questions. N. B. The game features a total of 11 complete sets of 9 questions. If you clear your cache, you will always arrive on the 1st series and you will just need to refresh the page to access the following. Comments.

Sammy IS the most talented performer EVER! Do you want cream and sugar in your eye HA! Good episode. The way that white man was talking had me pissed. By Meaghan E. H. Siekman Researcher Introduction Researching African American ancestors can be challenging and often requires some creative searching methods. Many African Americans find it difficult to trace their family earlier than the 1870 United States Federal Census, the first federal census following emancipation and the first to record many former slaves by name. Locating records of slave ancestors prior to emancipation requires researching the slave owners family since most of the records where slaves may be named, such as probate, account, and deed records, will all be in the slave-owners name. Locating ancestors that were free prior to emancipation also has unique challenges as records are dispersed and can be difficult to navigate. The process of locating African American ancestors can be time consuming but the effort can be extremely rewarding. African American Resources at NEHGS Live broadcast: March 26, 2015 Presented by: Meaghan E. Siekman Intended audience: Anyone researching African American ancestors Level: All levels Running Time: 57:34 Description: There are hundreds of resources available at NEHGS to assist you with researching African American ancestors: from published genealogies to local histories, original manuscripts and rare documents to online databases. Gain valuable how-to tips and techniques from researcher, Meaghan E. Siekman. How-To and Other Guides Genealogist's Guide to Discovering Your African American Ancestors: How to Find and Record Your Unique Heritage by Franklin Carter Smith NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. 96. S6514 2003 Finding a Place Called Home: A Guide to African American Genealogy and Historical Identity by Dee Woodtor NEHGS, 7th Floor Reference E185. W66 1999a African American Genealogy: A Bibliography and Guide to Sources by Curt Bryan Witcher NEHGS, 7th Floor Reference Z1361. N39 W771 2000 Black Roots: A Beginners Guide to Tracing the African American Family Tree by Tony Burroughs NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. B94 2001 African American Resources at the New England Historic Genealogical Society: A Selected Bibliography by New England Historic Genalogical Society NEHGS, 7th Floor Reference Z1361. N39 A36 2010 Reconstruction Era Documents Voter Registration Lists Voter Registration Records are a good resource for locating male ancestors shortly after the end of slavery. On 23 March 1867, U. S. Congress passed an act that extended the Reconstruction Acts to include the registration of qualified voters. The Act required that all qualified male citizens over the age of twenty-one be registered to vote. The Act also required those registering to vote to take an oath of allegiance to the United States and in some states both documents still survive. Unfortunately, voter registration lists do not survive in every state, but if they are available they can provide valuable information about ancestors including their name and place of residency. In most states, these are the earliest statewide records of African Americans following slavery. Most of these records are only available at the state archives for their respective states. Some records have been microfilmed at the Family History Library. A keyword search in their catalog for “1867 Voter Registration” will produce the collections they have available on film. You can then order the film and view it at NEHGS or your local Family History Center. Some records are available digitally. has the Voter Registration Lists for Texas available to search and browse. The Alabama Department of Archives and History also has a searchable database for the 1867 Voter Registration Records in the state. Freedmen Bureau Records Established by the War Department by an act of 3 March 1865, The Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands, often referred to as the Freedmens Bureau was in charge of providing relief and education to refugees and freedmen. These records often contain the names, ages, and occupations of freedmen and can include the names and residences of their former owners. The records vary by state, but can consist of a range of records including marriage registers, school and hospital records, census data, and military service. Only a small portion of the Freedmens Bureaus records are available on microfilm. Many of the records are only available at the National Archives in Washington, DC. For a description of the records collected by the Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands by state, see: Preliminary Inventory of the Records of the Field Offices of the Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands compiled by Elaine Everly and Wilna Pacheli NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. 2. U5877 1973 The Freedmens Bureau Online: Records of the Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands contains databases and a search option for records that have been transcribed to the site. This is a good starting point to quickly see if an ancestor is included any of its databases, though it does not include all of the Freedmens Bureaus records and additional searching for records may be necessary. Most of the records from the Freedmens Bureau that have been microfilmed are available through the Family History Library. You can order the films and look at them at NEHGS. United States Freedmens Bureau Marriages, 1815-1869 is also available to search digitally. NEHGS holds some collections relating to the Freedmens Bureau. Freedmans Bank Records NEHGS, Microtext Floor E185. F74 2000 CD The Freedman's Savings and Trust Company and African American Genealogical Research by Reginald Washington NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks CD3020. P72 v. 29 no. 2 Summer 1997 North Carolina Freedman's Savings & Trust Company Records abstracted by Bill Reaves; Beverly Tetterton, editor NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. 96 N67 1992 Records of the Superintendent of Education for the State of Texas, Bureau of Refugees, Freedmen, and Abandoned Lands, 1865-1870 NEHGS, Microtext Floor CD3027. M5 N3 M822 Census Records It can be difficult to trace African American ancestors prior to the 1870 United States Federal Census. If an African American ancestor was free prior to the end of slavery you may be able to locate them on earlier census records under their own name. The 1850 and 1860 United States Federal Census recorded all the free individuals in a household by name. In earlier census records, only the head of the households name will appear, but the record contains the number of people in each age range in the household. Free African Americans were recorded under the columns for “Free Colored Persons. ” Census records are available through and. If the ancestor was enslaved you will need to know the likely slave owner. In 1850 and 1860 the United States recorded slave schedules along with the federal census. These records can be accessed through, and the National Archive. A majority of these records only provide the slave owners name, giving a description of the age, sex, and complexion of slaves in the household. If the slave owners name is not known, search for your ancestors surname in the area where they were living in 1870. For a variety of reasons, former slaves often had the surnames of their former slave owners. This is not always the case, but it can be a good starting point in trying to work backward in time. Many published collections have compiled information of African Americans in census records for various states and regions. The sources include: Free Negro heads of families in the United States in 1830, together with a brief treatment of the free Negro by Carter G. Woodson NEHGS Database Slaves and Nonwhite Free Persons in the 1790 Federal Census of New York by Gilbert S. Bahn NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. 93. N56 B24 2000 Free Black Heads of Household in the New York State Federal Census, 1790-1830 by Alice Eichholz and James M. Rose NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. N56 E37 Census Occupations of Afro-American Families on Staten Island, 1840-1875 by Richard B. Dickenson NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks F127. S7 D5 1981 Land, Probate, and Account Records Once you have determined a likely slave owner, the next step is to locate any probate, land, or account records for that individual since these are the most likely documents that will name a slave ancestor. The location of these records will vary by location, but many of these types of records are available to search or browse through the Family History Library, or the NEHGS Library. Some examples in the NEHGS collection are: Nathan Holbrook Glover papers, 1647-1982 (bulk 1686-1744, 1793-1927) NEHGS, Manuscripts Mss 319 This is a collection of mostly business papers of the Glover Family from 1647-1982 in Massachusetts. The collection includes slave deeds from 1704 and 1744. Dorothea Barton Cogswell Papers, 1647-1975 (bulk: 1710-1853) NEHGS, Manuscripts Mss 405 This collection contains original account and personal papers, probate records, and slave bills for the Cogswell and Russel Families of Gloucester, Ipswich, and Rowley Massachusetts. Manumission Documents The Thirteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution made slavery and indentured servitude illegal in all areas subject to United States jurisdiction. Prior to the passage of this amendment, individual manumission documents and state-wide abolish acts in the northern states can provide information about ancestors that were freed prior to the federal abolition of slavery. For example, Pennsylvania passed “An Act for the Gradual Abolition of Slavery” on 1 March 1780 which specified that those born into slavery after the passing of the act would be free upon reaching the age of 21. The Act required that slaves be registered and those not recorded were to be freed. Due to this stipulation in the law, there are records of owners registering their slaves. The Family History Library has some of these records on microfilm at the county level. They also hold “ Manumissions and Indentures, ca. 1780-1840, ” on microfilm which are arranged alphabetically by the slave owners name. The District of Columbia was the only place in the United States in which the Federal government provided monetary compensation to ex-slaveholders in 1862 when it passed a law to abolish slavery in the nations capital. Records of the petitions for compensation as part of this law have been compiled into a published volume, Compensated Emancipation in the District of Columbia: Petitions under the Act of April 16, 1862. The claims include information on the claimant, the names of those in their service freed under the law, and the amount of compensation awarded. Often they include additional information about the former slaves, including where they were born and their occupation. Compensated Emancipation in the District of Columbia: Petitions under the Act of April 16, 1862 by Dorothy S. Provine NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. D6 P768 2005 There are some published sources on the manumission and emancipation of slaves in other states, including: Chains Unbound: Slave Emancipations in the Town of Greenwich, Connecticut by Jeffrey B. Mead NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks F104. G8 M44 1995 Freedom Papers: 1776-1781 by M. M. Pernot, editor, introduction by Clement Alexander Price NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E445. N54 F74 1984 The New York Genealogical and Biographical Record published a number of articles on the births and manumission of slaves in New York. Volumes 1-54 are available online through NEHGS. More recent volumes are located at NEHGS 7th Floor Reading Room F116. N28. Some notable articles include: Alice Eichholz and James M. Rose, Slave Births in Castleton, Richmond County, New York. The New York Genealogical and Biographical Record, Vol. 110, No. 4 (Oct. 1979) pp. 196-197. Alice Eichholz and James M. Rose "Slave Births in New York County. The New York Genealogical and Biographical Record, Vol. 111, No. 1 (Jan. 1980) pp. 13-17. Henry B. Hoff, Researching African-American Families in New Netherland and Colonial New York and New Jersey. The New York Genealogical and Biographical Record, Vol. 136, No. 2 (Apr. 2005) pp. 83-95. Terri Bradshaw O'Neill, Manumissions and Certificates of Freedom in the New York Secretary of State Deeds. The New York Genealogical and Biographical Record, Vol. 139, No. 2008) pp. 72-73. Free African Americans A great resource to start your search for Free African Americans is Paul Heineggs website, “ Free African Americans of Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Maryland, and Delaware. ” The site compiled information from tax lists, registry lists, wills, deeds, and other records on free African Americans prior to passage of the Thirteenth Amendment. More recent articles on the site also include information from Tennessee, Indiana, and Illinois. Hard copies of some of the compilations are available at the NEHGS Library: Free African Americans of Maryland and Delaware: From the Colonial Period to 1810 by Paul Heinegg NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. H46 2000 Free African Americans of North Carolina, Virginia, and South Carolina from the Colonial Period to about 1820 by Paul Heinegg NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. H48 2005 Other sources in the NEHGS Library on free African Americans include: Free African Americans of Maryland 1832: Including: Allegany, Anne Arundel, Calvert, Caroline, Cecil, Charles, Dorchester, Frederick, Kent, Montgomery, Queen Ann's, and St. Mary's Counties by Jerry M. Hynson NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. M2 H96 1998 Somebody knows my Name: Marriages of Freed People in North Carolina County by County compiled by Barnetta McGhee White NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. W53 1995 Church Records Church records can contain a wealth of information including valuable vital records of births, marriages, and deaths. Northern Anglican, Catholic, and Quaker church records can also contain information about manumissions and admissions of free African Americans to congregations. Church records are housed in a variety of places and sometimes can still only be located at the church if it is still in operation. Identifying an ancestors congregation can lead to more records on the individual and their family. There are a number of repositories that have programs focused on collecting African American church records. Schomburg Center for Research in Black Culture, a part of the New York Public Library, actively collects church records as a part of its Preservation of the Black Religious Heritage Project. Amistad Research Center housed in Tulane Universitys Tilton Memorial Hall in New Orleans, Louisiana also collects church records in addition to the American Missionary Association Collection. The Library of Virginia produced “ African American Church Histories in the Library of Virginia, ” which contains a full list of the resources that they hold in their library as well as a list of organizations, biographies of church leaders, and manuscript resources. “ The Church in the Southern Black Community ” contains a collection of autobiographies, histories, church documents, and other materials to document the history of the church in African American communities. American Indian Connections Many African American families have family lore indicating a connection to an American Indian community. Understanding the history of African American and American Indian relations will help determine a potential connection. One of the most likely scenarios is that an African American ancestor was a former slave of an American Indian slave owner. This, of course, was not the only kind of African-Indian relationship, but it is the most likely scenario for which documentation exists. Prior to the end of slavery, a number of American Indians owned African slaves, namely the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Creek, and Seminole, or the so-called “Five Civilized Tribes. ” When slavery was abolished, some of these former slaves became citizens of the Native Nations to which they were previously enslaved. The enrollment cards created by the Dawes Commission to determine who could gain citizenship can be a valuable resource to learning more about ancestors that were Freedmen of these Native Nations. Black Indian Genealogy Research by Angela Y. Walton-Raji NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. W294 1993 A good reference book for understanding how to search for an American Indian connection. The enrollment records are available on microfilm through the United States National Archives, but there are indexes to the records that can be searched first to determine the likelihood that an ancestor is included on the rolls. Index to the Cherokee Freedmen Enrollment Cards of the Dawes Commission, 1901-1906 by Jo Ann Curls Page NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. P34 1996 You can search the index to the final rolls online through Access Genealogy. These are the final rolls of those accepted as citizens, so it is not an exhaustive index of the applicants. It is helpful to also examine records for rejected applications since they contain valuable genealogical information. Caribbean Ancestry There are many records available to research ancestors from the Caribbean and a number of these resources are available online. The Family History Library has a number of collections for Barbados and the Caribbean Islands that are searchable, including Caribbean Births and Baptisms. There are also a number of resources to help identify slave owners. The University College of London has also created a database of British slave owners that filed claims for compensation in 1833 when parliament abolished slavery. This is a searchable database called Legacies of British Slave-Ownership that includes information about the claimant and the extent of the claim. Most of these slave owners filed claims for slaves in the Caribbean. Dr. Oliver Gliech has compiled a list of Plantation Owners of St. Domingue which is helpful in identifying slave owners that were a part of the French Colony of St. Domingue. There are a number of source books that are particularly useful for Caribbean research: A Tree without Roots: The Guide to Tracing British, African and Asian Caribbean Ancestry by Paul Crooks NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks CS203. C76 2008 My Ancestor Settled in the British West Indies: Bermuda, British Guiana and British Honduras by John Titford NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks CS203. T58 2011 Tracing Ancestors in Barbados: A Practical Guide by Geraldine Lane NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks CS261. B3 L36 2006 A Brief History of the Caribbean: From the Arawak and the Carib to the Present by Jan Rogoziński NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks F2175. R72 1992 Caribbean Historical and Genealogical Journal NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks F2155. C365 1993 Military Records Black Soldiers - Black Sailors - Black Ink: Research Guide on African-Americans in U. Military History, 1526-1900 by Thomas Truxtun Moebs NEHGS, 7th Floor Reference UB418. A47 M64 1994 Minority military service, New Hampshire, Vermont, 1775-1783 published by National Society Daughters of the American Revolution. NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E255. M56 1988-91 "Strong and brave fellows" New Hampshire's black soldiers and sailors of the American Revolution, 1775-1784 by Glenn A. Knoblock NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E269. N3 K57 2003 On the Trail of the Buffalo Soldier: Biographies of African Americans in the U. Army, 1866-1917 compiled and edited by Frank N. Schubert NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. S383 1995 Black Valor: Buffalo Soldiers and the Medal of Honor, 1870-1898 by Frank N. S383 1995 Black Union Soldiers in the Civil War by Hondon B. Hargrove NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E540. N3 H35 1988 Genealogies Slaves in the Family by Edward Ball NEHGS, 7th Floor Stacks CS71. B2 2001 Homelands and Waterways: The American Journey of the Bond family, 1846-1926 by Adele Logan Alexander NEHGS, 7th Floor Stacks CS71. B7 1999 Workbook on the Families of Color of Nashoba Valley compiled by George W. Dewey, Joy Hartwell Peach, Joann Heselton Nichols NEHGS, 7th Floor Stacks CS71. H428 2004 The Hemings Family of Monticello by James A. Bear NEHGS, 7th Floor Stacks CS71. H4928 1980 Descendants of Shandy Wesley Jones and Evalina Love Jones: The Story of an African American Family of Tuscaloosa, Alabama by Ophelia Taylor Pinkard and Barbara Clayton Clark NEHGS, 7th Floor Stacks CS71. J76 1993 The Ancestors and Descendants of Theodore Roosevelt Whitney (1902-1979) Profile of an African-American Family by Harold Coleman Whitney NEHGS, 7th Floor Stacks CS71. W62 1994 Passing for White: Race, Religion, and the Healy Family, 1820-1920 by James M. O'Toole NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. 095 2002 Biographies African American Biographical Database The largest electronic collection of biographical information on African Americans, 1790-1950. The Life of William J. Brown of Providence, R. I. With Personal Recollections of Incidents in Rhode Island foreword by Rosalind C. Wiggins; introduction by Joanne Pope Melish NEHGS, 5th Floor E185. 97. B88 2006 Captain Paul Cuffe's logs and letters, 1808-1817: A Black Quaker's "Voice from within the Veil" edited by Rosalind Cobb Wiggins; with an introduction by Rhett S. Jones NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. C96 C84 1996 A Gentleman of Color: The Life of James Forten by Julie Winch NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. F717 W56 2002 Prince Estabrook: Slave and Soldier by Alice M. Hinkle NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E241. L6 H575 2001 Periodicals African American Family History Association Inc., Newsletter NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E184. 5. A4 Journal of the Afro-American Historical and Genealogical Society NEHGS, 5th Floor Stacks E185. 86. A35 Manuscript Collections at NEHGS Gaines Funeral Home Records, 1929-1934, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania) NEHGS, Manuscripts Mss 1080 The Gaines Funeral Home was established by George W. Gains in 1919 in the historically African-American, Homewood section of Pittsburgh. The Gaines Funeral Home is the longest-operating African-American-owned business in Western Pennsylvania. The records include names of deceased, vital information, names of parents and next of kin, and places of the funeral service and internment. Diary of Josiah Freeman Bumstead, 1834 January-June by Josiah Freeman Bumstead NEHGS, Manuscripts Mss A 5042 Josiah Freeman Bumstead was the superintendent at the Belknap Street Sunday School, African Baptist Church. This manuscript collection contains his diary between January and June 1834. The Massachusetts Historical Society holds Josiah Freeman Bumsteads letters from 1841-1846. 1st Kansan Colored Vol. Reg't., 1863-1865 by Ethan Earie NEHGS, Microfilm Collection E508. 9 1st Microfilm; Manuscripts Mss C 4911 This collection contains the Original account book of Capt. Ethan Earle, commander of First Kansas Colored Volunteer Regiment Company F. The documents includes a roll of the soldiers in Company F and a list of it field, staff, and line officers. The collection also includes a written history of the regiment. Saddle River Reformed Dutch Church by Herbert S. Ackerman and Arthur J. Goff NEHGS, Manuscripts Mss A 7181 This collection consists of transcriptions of admissions, 1812-1924) dismissals, 1866-1924) marriages, 1813-1922) and baptisms, 1811-1890) of the Saddle River Reformed Dutch Church in Bergen County, New Jersey. It includes African American baptisms, marriage, admissions, and burials. Organizations African-American Historical and Genealogical, Inc. Afro American Historical Association of the Niagara Frontier The North Carolina African-American Heritage Foundation Black Belt African American Genealogical and Historical Society California African American Genealogical Society African American Genealogical Society of Northern California Indiana African American Genealogy Group African-American Cultural & Genealogical Society of Illinois, Inc. Museum African American Genealogy Group of Kentucky Black Genealogy Search Group (Colorado) Louisiana Creole Research Association Fred Hart Williams Genealogical Society St. Louis African American History & Genealogy Society Midwest Afro-American Genealogical Interest Coalition Oberlin African-American Genealogy and History Group African American Genealogy Group Old Edgefield District Genealogical Society Middle Peninsula African-American Genealogical & Historical Society of Virginia Websites Freedom on the Move Unknown No Longer, Virginia Historical Society In Motion: The African-American Migration Experience Digital Library on American Slavery The Trans-Atlantic Slave Trade Database African Origins Slave Sales in Louisiana, Afro-Louisiana History and Genealogy, 1718-1820 North American Slave Narratives American Slave Narratives: An Online Anthology Free African Americans of Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Maryland, and Delaware African American Gateway American Memory – Slaves and the Courts 1740-1860 Need help? Want to maximize your research? The experts at NEHGS can help! We offer a number of services that can help you break down brick walls and expand your research. Meet one-on-one with our genealogists Want research guidance from a professional genealogist? Our experts provide 30-minute to two-hour consultations in person or by phone. Find elusive ancestors —Whether you are searching in the U. or abroad, in the 17th or 20th century, our genealogists have the knowledge to assist you. Locate and use records —Vital records, military records, deeds, probate, and more—if youre wondering where to look for them, how to read them, or what data you can find in them, we can guide you. Get more out of technology —Feel like you could be making better use of your genealogy software? Curious about websites and databases that might be relevant to your research? Let us help! Schedule your consultation today or contact. Hire our experts in Research Services Whether you are just beginning your family research or have been researching for years, NEHGS Research Services is here to assist you. Our team of experts can: Conduct hourly research Break down “brick walls” Retrieve manuscript materials Obtain probate records Research and prepare your lineage society application Organize your materials and files Write narrative biographies about your ancestors Create customized family charts Hire Research Services today or contact, 617-226-1233.

Every time his eyes bug out and he says honest to God, he's lying. How does it all work? One name is all it takes to start making your family tree. But the more you add, the better we can help you—every name is another piece of the story. Look for the leaf. Very soon, leaves will begin to appear as you build your family tree—these are Ancestry Hints. And each one is a potential discovery. Follow the leaves and watch your family tree grow. Billions of records. Millions of fellow family history seekers. You could find an infamous relative. Or perhaps a photo of your great-grandma as a little girl. But whatever you find, its sure to change the whole way you look at your family history, and yourself. After all, the story of your family is the story of you. Starting your tree couldnt be easier. Enter what you know You dont need a lot of facts to start your family tree—this is only the beginning of the treasure hunt. Even a guess can help Not sure of the details? Dont worry, even guesses can help us find clues to new information about your family history. Let us show you the way Hints will pop up automatically whenever we think weve found a piece of your family story—guiding you to new discoveries.

These Web-Based Family Tree Makers Are a Must for Every Family Historian Starting a family tree can be one of the most enjoyable aspects of researching your familys history. Not only does family tree creation offer you a chance to see how youre connected to ytryour extended family, but it can be an especially fun process as you begin to uncover fascinating stories from your familys past. Online family tree builders have become so popular in recent years, that a new web-based tool seems to sprout up every day! And with big benefits such as the ability to digitally preserve your family memories, back up your family stories and photos and even collaborate with family members all over the globe, its no surprise that their popularity continues to rise. 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