{"id":12511,"date":"2017-02-09T14:22:36","date_gmt":"2017-02-09T19:22:36","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/?p=12511"},"modified":"2021-02-01T16:40:45","modified_gmt":"2021-02-01T21:40:45","slug":"searching-for-maine-in-the-nations-new-attic","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/searching-for-maine-in-the-nations-new-attic\/","title":{"rendered":"Searching for Maine in the Nation&#8217;s New Attic"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><iframe allowfullscreen=\"true\" allow=\"fullscreen\" style=\"border:none;width:100%;height:450px;\" src=\"\/\/e.issuu.com\/embed.html?backgroundColor=%23f1f1f1&#038;d=fm17_flipbooksm&#038;hideIssuuLogo=true&#038;pageNumber=60&#038;u=portlandmagazine\"><\/iframe><\/p>\n<p>February\/March 2017 | <a href=\"http:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/pdf\/FM17%20Smithsonian.pdf\">view this story as a .pdf<\/a><\/p>\n<h3 class=\"p1\"><span class=\"s1\">Join us on a <strong>journey<\/strong> to the National Mall. <\/span><span class=\"s1\"><strong>No waiting in line.<\/strong><\/span><\/h3>\n<p class=\"p3\"><span class=\"s3\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"alignleft size-medium wp-image-12514\" src=\"http:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/02\/FM17-Smithsonian-300x188.jpg\" alt=\"FM17-Smithsonian\" width=\"300\" height=\"188\" srcset=\"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/02\/FM17-Smithsonian-300x188.jpg 300w, https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/02\/FM17-Smithsonian-200x125.jpg 200w, https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/02\/FM17-Smithsonian.jpg 400w\" sizes=\"(max-width: 300px) 100vw, 300px\" \/>We arrive in Washington, D.C. by train. It\u2019s an eight-minute taxi ride from Union Station to the <strong>National Museum of African American History and Culture<\/strong>.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s4\">The Washington Monument looms to our left. Our cab pulls up to the front door. We join a group of excited children in blue uniforms emblazoned Montessori Magnet School. The line moves incredibly quickly, contrary to all we\u2019d heard. \u201cYou should have seen it last week,\u201d our taxi driver says.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s5\">When we tried to reserve our free timed passes three months ago, no advance spots were left for the day we were scheduled to arrive. We could have risked trying to get some same-day passes once we got into town, but on any given day we looked at the site, we saw they were sold out by 7 a.m. So on to eBay. The prices went from \u201c$60 for four tickets or best offer.\u201d Some re-sellers were asking as much as $200 for two tickets.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">We ended up paying $40 for<\/span> <span class=\"s3\">a pair.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">\u201cOur tickets are for 3 p.m., but it\u2019s 1:30,\u201d we say to the lady at the gate. \u201cIs there a place we can wait inside, or can we get some lunch before our time starts?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">\u201cJust follow them,\u201d she says. \u201cOnce you\u2019re in, you\u2019re in.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">Hungry, we take the escalator down to the cafeteria, which is divided into three tantalizing food geographies to begin our three-dimensional experience. Should we try \u201cThe Creole Coast\u201d (shrimp and grits, catfish, gumbo); \u201cThe Agricultural South\u201d (Brunswick stew, chicken and waffles); or \u201cThe Western Range?\u201d I see a chef with dreadlocks. I say, \u201cI\u2019m from Maine. If I want to channel that, what should I order?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">A big smile. \u201cBeef brisket sandwich.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">Okay!<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">The food is wildly delicious. The vibe is upbeat, quietly triumphant, relaxed. We seat ourselves at the family-style table, and everyone makes small talk. A quote from Langston Hughes shimmers on the wall. \u201c<em>They send me to eat in the kitchen when company comes, but I laugh, and eat well, and grow strong<\/em>.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">According to Gerald E. Talbot and H.H. Price in <em>Maine\u2019s Visible Black History <\/em>(Tilbury House), Langston Hughes stayed in Maine at Ethel Goode Franklin\u2019s guest house in Ogunquit during the production of one of his plays. \u201c\u2026Most of her guests were blacks.\u201d In Old Orchard Beach, a destination attraction was \u201c110,\u201d for 110 Portland Avenue, which welcomed guests from Duke Ellington to Cab Calloway, Count Basie, and Harlem Renaissance poet Countee Cullen. In Kittery, vacationers loved Rock Rest.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">A single woman joins us. <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">\u201cWhere are you from?\u201d we ask.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">\u201cCalifornia.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">She looks around, taking in the excitement. \u201cWell, it took over 100 years of trying, and they finally got their museum.\u201d\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\"><em>They<\/em>. <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">This reminds us that we all have some work to do.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">The Museum\u2019s galleries are deftly organized. <em>Past at the bottom, future at the top.<\/em> We start at the very beginning, Level C3, three floors below ground level, and see how the Triangle Trade worked, and still works. After all, Portland\u2019s sugar refineries made us the sixth biggest port on the East Coast when people were enslaved.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">Was Portland part of that deadly Triangle? Of course it was, and the effects linger, the good with the painful. On the wall of a multimedia exhibit is a quote from William Cowper, 1788:<span class=\"Apple-converted-space\">\u00a0 <\/span>\u201cI admit I am sickened at the purchase of slaves&#8230;but I must be mumm, for how could we do without sugar or rum?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s5\">The variation of that I heard while growing up and going to Deering High School in Portland was, \u2018The South is so backward. We\u2019d have never done anything like <em>that<\/em> here. And it\u2019s not our problem, being so far north. There are almost no blacks here.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\">None that \u2018we\u2019 had the eyes to see, anyway. African Americans have contributed so much to the making of everything we think of as American, and always have been a driving part of the making of Maine. The enslaved often weren\u2019t listed on ship manifests. Freed men and Freemen were often not identified by race early on, and so shared invisibility. All Mainers benefited and therefore still benefit today. Maine\u2019s very statehood was born of an ugly compromise that granted our admission to the Union at the cost of unrestricted slavery in Missouri. The KKK thrived here in the 1920s. None of this was taught in the classroom.<\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s4\">As we walk through this magnificent new museum, brilliant in its evolution, another museum starts to take shape in our heads\u2013one that specifically showcases Maine\u2019s history and Maine\u2019s stake in it. Macon Bolling Allen, the first African American lawyer ever to pass the bar exam, lived in Maine. John Russwurm, the third African American ever to graduate from college, went to Bowdoin and was pals with fellow undergrads Longfellow and Hawthorne. He started the first African American newspaper in the United States, in New York. His house is across the street from Cheverus High School. The Abyssinian Church on the East End is of national significance.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">Clearly, Portland\u2019s soaring prospects in the 19th century, built and barreled on the rum trade, were built on the backs of enslaved people as the Old Port shot up in the 1850s, and even when we rebuilt it so quickly after the Great Fire in 1866. The slave trade ensured Portland\u2019s glory days.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">For a great historical novel featuring a Portlander\u2019s African American point of view, read <em>Pyrrhus Venture<\/em> by William David Barry and Randolph Dominic.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s1\">As we ascend level by level, there are tearful moments of recognition in this cathartic museum, because even as the screens shift with new revelations, the museumgoers themselves are thinking, changing.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">We learn that people who threw themselves overboard during the Middle Passage to escape enslavement were said to be \u201cflying home\u201d to the land of their birth.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">We are moved by a pair of child-sized shackles next to those of an adult.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s4\">When we see a training aircraft used by the Tuskeegee Airmen (above), we are reminded of Eugene Jackson, who died in 2015. Born in Portland, Jackson\u2019s family had been Mainers since the late 1700s. He graduated from Portland High School in 1941.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">James Sheppard, 92, a Tuskeegee Airman, grew up in Harlem. He lives in South Portland now.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">There are exhibits about W.E.B. Du Bois, who came to Maine many summers to rest and study with fel<\/span><span class=\"s1\">low members of the Gun and Rod Club (see sidebar). Also up in lights is a copy of <em>Uncle Tom\u2019s Cabin<\/em>, by Maine\u2019s Harriet Beecher Stowe (see \u201cLasting Legacies,\u201d opposite page).<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">An eight-year-old is looking at an exhibit of three figures, from left to right, Booker T. Washington, Ida B. Wells, and W.E.B. Du Bois.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">His mother asks him, \u201cHave you ever heard of these names? Do they teach them in school?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">\u201cNo.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">\u201cWell, if you don\u2019t know something, what do you do?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">He pulls a cell phone from his pocket. <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">His mother catches us watching, and we all smile.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\"><em>\u2014Colin W. Sargent<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p6\"><span class=\"s1\"><strong>Lasting Legacies<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p3\"><span class=\"s3\">When exploring Maine\u2019s black history, one name appears time and time again, an echo. <strong>Gerald E. Talbot\u2019s<\/strong> work as an activist, educator, historian, and the first African American member of the Maine House of Representatives has shaped our state\u2019s social landscape for over half a century. <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s4\">We asked Talbot, 86, and his wife, <strong>Anita,<\/strong> what they\u2019d most like to see in the new Smithsonian museum. \u201cAs the parents of four daughters, we\u2019d like to visit any exhibit that focuses on the contributions of African American women. In particular, <strong>Fannie Lou Hamer<\/strong>, <strong>Mary McLeod Bethune<\/strong>, and <strong>Harriet E. Wilson<\/strong>. We\u2019d spend time with each of these women individually. We\u2019d also feel proud to see those who played a significant role in the development of our own state: <strong>Tate Cummings<\/strong>, <strong>Kippy <\/strong>and <strong>Harold Richardson<\/strong>, <strong>Eugene Jackson<\/strong>, <strong>William Burney Sr.<\/strong> and <strong>William Burney Jr.<\/strong>, and all of the women who were members of the <strong>Mister Ray Club<\/strong> in Portland and the <strong>Carver Club<\/strong> in Bangor. <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s8\">\u201cWe\u2019d feel forever blessed to see these extraordinary lives recognized. Their sacrifice has been our collective reward.\u201d And after that? \u201cWe wouldn\u2019t delay in advocating for so many more to be included.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s8\">We asked their daughter <strong>Rachel Talbot Ross<\/strong>, a legislator and representative for Portland, the first thing she\u2019d want to see at the Museum. She is forthright. \u201cHonestly? I\u2019d like to see my father in the Museum. I find it hard to think of anyone else in Maine who\u2019s contributed so much.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s4\">While Maine\u2019s presence in the Museum is profound, it is not yet definitive. Today, we celebrate the people of Maine who have earned their place in its halls and wait in anticipation for the inclusion of many more.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p8\"><span class=\"s3\"><strong>Game Changers<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p3\"><span class=\"s3\">A few days after <strong>Ma<\/strong><\/span><span class=\"s1\"><strong>con Bolling Allen<\/strong> passed the Bar exam in Portland, a reporter from <em>The Brunswicker<\/em> wrote, \u201cWe think we have heard of a colored physician somewhere at the South, in New York, probably, but we have never before heard of a colored lawyer in this country\u201d [<em>Maine\u2019s Visible Black History<\/em>].<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">As it turns out, the paper\u2019s speculation was spot on. On July 3, 1844, Allen passed an examination that established him as the first African American licensed to practice law in the U.S. <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\">\u201cI can only imagine how difficult that would have been,\u201d says <strong>Danielle Conway<\/strong>, who in 2015, over 130 years after Allen\u2019s admission to the Bar, became the first African American dean of UMaine Law School. \u201cAgainst a backdrop of slavery, against all the symbols of your supposed inferiority, you have to stand up and prove yourself. You\u2019re carrying the weight of your entire race in that moment.\u201d Conway taught at William S. Richardson School of Law in Hawaii before trading palm trees for pine trees. The Philadelphia native is enthusiastic on the subject of Macon Bolling Allen and the historical ties that unite them across time. As America\u2019s first black lawyer, first black justice of the peace, and the cofounder of the country\u2019s first black law practice, Allen carved inroads into a historically elite practice into which, many decades later, Conway is making her own mark.<\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">\u201cIt makes me feel connected to Maine in a fundamental way,\u201d Conway says. Her eyes light up. \u201cYou know what else? I graduated from Howard University in Washington D.C., which was actually founded by Oliver Otis Howard. He was a Civil War General from Leeds, Maine.\u201d President Andrew Johnson appointed Howard Commissioner of the Freedmen\u2019s Bureau in 1865. His name can be found in the Museum archives. \u201cThe school was steeped in history. It really aimed to imbue us with pride in the black genealogy of the law.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s1\">Conway was first introduced to Allen\u2019s legacy through the work of her professor, J. Clay Smith. In the first page of<em> Emancipation: The Making of the Black Lawyer 1844-1944<\/em>, Clay writes that Allen \u201cpresented the first challenge to America\u2019s legal community [\u2026] at a period when most black people were constitutionally enslaved.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">Those first pioneering steps into the whitewashed world of law were a laborious uphill struggle. Allen was initially denied admission to the bar in Maine at a time when \u201canyone of good moral character\u201d was eligible because, as an African American, he was not legally a U.S. citizen. Local abolitionist and Allen\u2019s tutor Samuel Fessenden used his influence to persuade the committee of the Cumberland Bar for an admission by examination. Nonetheless, Allen struggled to find clients in Maine and was forced to Massachusetts in 1845 in search of work. Allen, unable to afford transportation, walked 50 miles to his Massachusetts Bar exam and still passed, according to historian Stephen Kendrick.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p3\"><span class=\"s3\">Conway finds a synchronicity in becoming the first African American (and only the second female) dean of UMaine Law in the same city where Macon Bolling Allen made history. An expert in government procurement and intellectual property law, an Army veteran, and a professor, Conway\u2019s rise to the top has been meteoric in comparison to Allen\u2019s excruciating struggle against a tide of prejudice. <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">\u201cThe people who have preceded me have reaffirmed my place in the world,\u201d she says. \u201cTaking this job, I was presented with people who had reservations about me teaching here as a black woman. But diversity is such a fundamental component of productivity, and I believe that law is the ultimate tool in the pursuit of freedom and justice.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">From law to literature, Maine\u2019s place in the annals of black history is often surprising and unexpected\u2013and sometimes only discovered long after the fact. <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p8\"><span class=\"s1\"><strong>Underground Railroad<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p3\"><span class=\"s5\">If walls could talk, those of the Stowe House on 63 Federal Street, Brunswick, would surely tell a colorful tale. Many famous guests have known its rooms, from writer <strong>Harriet Beecher Stowe<\/strong>\u2013for whom the house is named, to a young Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, and even honeymooners Bette Davis and Gary Merrill. Perhaps the most intriguing visitor of all spent only one night here, and most likely slept in a cupboard. <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">In the late months of 1850, <strong>John Andrew Jackson<\/strong>, fleeing enslavement in South Carolina, arrived at Harriet Beecher Stowe\u2019s door under cover of darkness.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\">\u201cWe have a letter sent from Stowe to her sister that proves Jackson took refuge in her home in Brunswick that night,\u201d says <strong>Tess Chakkalaka<\/strong>l, Professor of Africana Studies and English at Bowdoin, who spent 2008-2016 working to restore the house and establish its place on the <strong>National Underground Railroad Network to Freedom<\/strong>.<\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">\u201cTo me, the house is so important because it was here that Stowe really proved what kind of woman she was,\u201d she says. The Fugitive Slave Act of 1850, also known as the Bloodhound Law, had passed only weeks before. Anyone caught assisting an enslaved fugitive could face six months in jail. \u201cThe risk of what Stowe did was not just legal,\u201d says Chakkalakal. \u201cShe also harbored a stranger, a man, in the home where she lived with just her children [Stowe\u2019s husband was not yet living in Brunswick]. She took him in, examined the whip marks on his back, and gave him five dollars and a letter of introduction for his arrival in Canada. He played and sang to her young children. Their interaction showed an exchange between equals.\u201d <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p3\"><span class=\"s3\">Undoubtedly, the encounter with Jackson, coming face-to-face with the scars and stories etched by enslavement, had a profound effect on Stowe. Just a few months later, she would pen the first installment of <em>Uncle Tom\u2019s Cabin<\/em>, the anti-slavery story that would become the best-selling book of the 19th century, second only to the Bible.<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">Jackson successfully escaped through Maine into New Brunswick, Canada and from there on to London, England, where he established himself as a lecturer and writer. Given her later success, Stowe\u2019s letter of introduction helped open doors internationally. In the foreword to his powerful memoir, <em>The Experience of a Slave in South Carolina<\/em>, Jackson writes: <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">\u201cDuring my flight from Salem to Canada, I met with a very sincere friend and helper, who gave a refuge during the night. Her name was Mrs. Beecher Stowe [\u2026] she listened with great interest to my story.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">\u201cThis is one of the only instances where an example of the Underground Railroad is corroborated by <em>both<\/em> parties: Jackson in his book and Stowe in her letters to her sister,\u201d says Chakkalakal. The evidence enabled Chakkalakal and a team of researchers to get the Harriet Beecher Stowe house listed on the National Underground Railroad Network. <\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">Today, next to a cramped cupboard in the kitchen, a small plaque hangs in testament to a night in 1850 when two writers met in secret, quietly altering the course of each other\u2019s lives.<\/span> <span class=\"s10\">n<\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p4\"><span class=\"s3\">\u2014<em>By Sarah Moore<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<p class=\"p9\"><span class=\"s3\">We are curating an online resource based around the African American experience in Maine, starting with a collection of <em>Portland Monthly <\/em>stories from over the years. We welcome your ideas, input, and information to help develop this online museum. Please email <a href=\"mailto:staff@portlandmonthly.com\">staff@portlandmonthly.com<\/a>.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>February\/March 2017<br \/>\nJoin us on a journey to the National Mall. No waiting in line.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":12515,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_et_pb_use_builder":"","_et_pb_old_content":"","_et_gb_content_width":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[8],"tags":[119],"class_list":["post-12511","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-featured","tag-februarymarch-2017"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12511","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=12511"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12511\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":19918,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/12511\/revisions\/19918"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/12515"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=12511"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=12511"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.portlandmonthly.com\/portmag\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=12511"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}