Underground

Today I got to drive one of my favorite roads in Southeast Ohio, route 329 between Amesville and Glouster. 329 winds its way from the Hocking River near Guysville up the Federal Creek valley through Amesville and on to Trimble. It’s a beautiful farming valley that is filled with history from the coal mining era back to the early days of European settlement and on from there back to the mound-building cultures of North America before European contact. You can’t help but feel the weight of history as you wind your way through this unglaciated valley carved by water and time through the former sea bed that makes up our topography in this area.

But today what was most on my mind was the tour I got of the area from a former Board member who is a historian and community activist with deep roots in our county. She gave me her Underground Railroad tour of Athens County, and Federal Creek features prominently in that story. Ever since then I can’t drive 329 without thinking of the stories of the people who made their way up these creeks to various safe houses like this one, where they got some refuge while trying to make their way ever further northwards.

If you’re a White person of a similar age to me, you probably heard about the Underground Railroad several times during your education. But you probably have some dimly romantic notion of it: runaway slaves make their way into the welcoming north, where all of their problems are resolved and everything is okay, blah blah blah Harriet Tubman blah blah blah. Honestly, I think it’s almost criminal that we were taught about the Underground Railroad this way. The reality is of course much darker.

The reason there was a need for an Underground Railroad wasn’t just the existence of slavery in the south. There was also the Fugitive Slave act of 1793 and the fugitive slave clause of the US constitution (Yes, that’s right, it’s in the constitution: Article IV, section 2, clause 3). These were exacerbated by the Fugitive Slave act of 1850, which required that slaves be returned to their enslavers even if they were captured in a non-slave state. That meant that not only could bounty hunters and law enforcement go after freedom-seeking persons in the north, anyone who harbored or otherwise aided a freedom-seeker could themselves be sent to jail. And that was the legal consequences. The non-legal consequences were far worse. It also means that the final destination of the Underground Railroad wasn't just the north: it was also British Canada, where slavery was illegal. There were some safe places for a freedom-seeking formerly enslaved person in the US, and some of those places were here in Ohio; such as Berlin Crossroads, Albany, and Tablertown (now known as Kilvert). But many freedom-seekers were destined for a longer journey to a place where there weren't laws that constantly endangered them.

So what was the journey a freedom-seeker had to make in our area of the country? While freedom-seekers from well into Virginia and the Carolinas came through Southeast Ohio, others were enslaved much closer in northwest Virginia (now West Virginia), and so didn’t have to travel far to get to the Ohio river. There were several large slave plantations near Parkersburg, and a slave auction in downtown Parkersburg. Once you made it to the Ohio river, crossing could be fraught. Bounty hunters or law enforcement could be watching the river. Some freedom-seekers were able to get assistance on abolitionists on the other side to help, but most had to find their own way across. Either way, you might cross to find hunting parties waiting for you.

But making it across the river wasn’t enough. From there you had to find your way to the Hocking, and work your way upstream to Guysville where Federal creek entered the Hocking, and then further upstream to Chesterhill or other communities with houses like this one. It was best to do this at night, when there was no moon. You never knew when someone might be watching or waiting. And try to stay in the water as long as you can. Maybe you’ll leave less scent for the dogs that they’ll have tracking you tomorrow.

If you’re lucky, you manage to fight your way through the overgrown stream, avoiding copperheads, mountain lions, bears, and the men who were hunting you and find your way to a safe house like this one. Again, if you’re lucky, everyone in that household is on your side. No one is going to let slip at the tavern that you’re there. No one is going to be so scared or disgusted by having a Black person in the house that they call in law enforcement. Because by your presence there, every single person in that house is breaking the law.

One of my favorite stories of the Underground Railroad in our area is of James Smith Sr., who was an ardent abolitionist, as was his whole family, and who lived near Cutler, Ohio. The Wood County (Virginia) sheriff came to the house to arrest Smith and take him to Parkersburg to stand trial for violating the Fugitive Slave Act. The sheriff and his deputies rode up to the house to find him seated on his porch, and informed him that he was under arrest. He replied "That may be well and good but before we depart I suggest you look up and see what's in my window." Looking up the sheriff saw Smith's five sons at the windows with guns trained on the posse, and chose to retreat until another time. (From "Washington County Underground Railroad" by Henry Robert Burke and Charles Hart Fogle)

Cool story, right? Those were some really badass guys, and they were on the right side of history, right? But that’s not the point. The point of that story is that every single person in the household had to be on board, because if you harbored a freedom-seeker, you were all breaking the law. These were people who were standing up, armed in many cases, against the legal authority of the United States. Many Black people throughout the country and a few White people like James Smith were putting their bodies and their livelihoods on the line to protect Black people who would undoubtedly lose their lives if they were found.

For my school education, the story of the Underground Railroad ended with the Civil War. The slaves were freed, everything is fine now, right? Of course it wasn’t, and that’s a topic for another post. But the point is this: we as a country have never come to terms with this. We don’t know how to teach it, and we definitely don’t know how to talk about it. Even after the Civil War we have tried again and again to ensure that Black people do not have a say in government. That Black people are denied the rights of being a citizen. That Black people are somehow less than any other person just because of the color of their skin. That treatment of Black people has continued up to the present day, in ways both overt and covert. Major incidents of Black people being mistreated and killed by government officials have happened throughout my lifetime right up to the present day. And those who stand up to point out the wrong and the injustice are still, right now, being told that their complaint is illegitimate. That they have nothing to complain about. That they need to sit down and shut up.

And now there are people who can’t understand why there are protests? Why people are standing up against legal authorities? For an otherwise well-educated white person, this is willful blindness. For over 400 year Black people have been marginalized, criminalized and made invisible and enough is enough. You owe it to yourself to learn what really happened in our country. To learn what the lived experience of millions of your fellow citizens really is. This has been happening for 200 years and more. And if you truly understood what happened inside this house 200 years ago, maybe you would begin to understand what is happening now.

(Many thanks to Ada Woodson Adams for helping me to update this post to more accurately reflect the history of the Underground Railroad and the experience of Black people in our region.)