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By Tara Mae All change involves commitment and creativity; the steadfastness to strive for better and the ability to imagine a brighter future. Mary White Ovington, suffragist, journalist, ally, and co-founder of the NAACP, used her privilege for power. She did not come as a savior, she came to understand and support people and causes. Born in Brooklyn on April 11, 1865, two days after General Robert E. Lee surrendered to General Ulysses S. Grant at the Appomattox Courthouse and three days before the assassination of President Abraham Lincoln, Ovington was raised in a progressive household. Her parents, members of the Unitarian Church, were supporters of women’s rights and had been abolitionists. She was educated at the Packer Collegiate Institute and Radcliffe College. The Institute was originally established in 1845 by landowners and merchants who were interested in improving learning opportunities for girls. Radcliffe, one of the Seven Sister schools and counterpart to Harvard University, had a reputation for engaging an astutely intellectual, literary, and independent student-body. At a time when higher education for women was a controversial and contested topic, Ovington enjoyed the privileges of such learning. These relative freedoms were hard-won and not afforded to her or her peers outside the scholastic sphere, however. The mere existence of Radcliffe was an attempt to circumnavigate sexism; Harvard categorically refused to admit women. Radcliffe developed in response to that discrimination and raised an impressive endowment with the hope that Harvard would be enticed to admit women. Harvard resisted the temptation, and Radcliffe developed its own reputation for academic excellence. During her time at the college, Ovington, who was from an upper middle class family, became increasingly conscious of how economic class created and exacerbated social issues. This lesson was made all the more apparent with the depression of 1893, when her family’s resulting lack of funds necessitated her withdrawal from Radcliffe. Supportive of the fight for civil rights since seeing Frederick Douglass speak at a Brooklyn church in 1890 while she was still a student at Packer, Ovington embarked on a lifelong journey of informal education. After she left Radcliffe, Ovington started working for the Pratt Institute, where she was initially employed as a registrar. She then had the first professional opportunity to put her beliefs into action. Ovington helped form the Greenpoint Settlement, co-sponsored by Pratt, and was made head of the project the next year. The Greenpoint Settlement offered social and educational outreach to the urban poor. In 1903, Ovington heard Booker T. Washington speak at the Social Reform Club. She later credited this event with motivating her to comprehensively shift the focus of her work to racial and social injustices faced by Black communities. Ovington was appointed a fellow of the Greenwich House Committee on Social Investigations, and studied the housing and employment struggles of Black Manhattanites. It was during this time that she met W.E.B. Du Bois and was introduced to the founders of the Niagara Movement, a Black civil rights organization created to oppose racial disenfranchisement and segregation. Inspired by the notions of British activist William Morris, she joined the Socialist Party of America and met individuals, including activist Asa Philip Randolph, who posited that racial problems were an issue of both class and race. What Ovinvgton learned, she shared, writing for the New York Call, The Masses, and the New York Evening Post. Ovington compiled data for what would become Half a Man: The Status of the Negro in New York, a study of Black Manhattan. Collaborating with journalist and historian Ray Stannard Baker, Ovington influenced the content of his book, Following the Color Line: An Account of Negro Citizenship in the American Democracy, considered to be one of the first published mainstream studies of America’s racial divide. She was again moved to action after reading an article in The Independent, “Race War in the North.” Its author, William English Walling, described a race riot in Springfield, Illinois, that caused seven deaths, the demolition of 24 businesses and 40 homes, and 107 indictments of rioters. He concluded the article with a call to action: powerful citizens needed to unite in support Black people. Ovington and fellow social worker Dr. Henry Moskowitz met with Walling at his New York City apartment to discuss how to answer this call and decided that they would organize a national conference on the political and civil rights of Blacks. On February 12, 1909, the anniversary of Abraham Lincoln’s birth, they announced the formation of the National Negro Committee, which held two annual meetings before disbanding to develop a more permanent and ongoing effort for racial justice. From this endeavor grew the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP). Ovington was appointed executive secretary, and worked with friends and colleagues such as Du Bois, Baker, Moskowitz, Ida B. Wells-Barnett, and Mary Church Terrell. She traveled on behalf of the NAACP, attending the First Universal Races Congress in London, an early undertaking for anti-racism. More than 50 countries and 20 governments sent delegates, whose work at the conference was divided into five categories: fundamental considerations; conditions of progress; problems of interracial economics and peaceful contact between civilizations; conscience in relation to racial questions; and, suggestions for promoting interracial relations. Half a Man was published in 1911. Years of painstaking research traced the history of Black people in the state, from the first enslaved persons of New Amsterdam to Blacks living and working in New York City. Through interviews, data, and observation, she determined that New York City was largely separate but unequal and that the state, like the country, was not as progressive as it projected. One interviewee noted, “I was never wanted in the southern city of my youth...In New York I am tolerated.” Ovington analyzed the nuances of overt and subtle racism, and its obvious and insidious impact on Black New Yorkers. She addressed the problem of institutionalized racism, woven into services like education and law enforcement, observing Harshness, for no cause but his black face, has been too frequently bestowed upon the Negro by the police. This has been especially noticeable in conflicts between white and colored, when the white officer, instead of dealing impartially with offenders, protected his own race...And the New York Negro in his turn does not allow his liberties to be tampered with without protest. In her paper’s conclusion, she surmised that white Americans had too long been the oppressors to easily dismiss their prejudices and identified her hope that one day a Black person would be able to walk through the city unharassed, “a man among men.” During the remainder of the 1910s, Ovington continued to write while working for the NAACP. She published studies on the status of Black people in America, feminism and women’s rights, as well as an anthology for Black children. An ardent pacifist, she also opposed the United States participation in World War I. For the NAACP, she served as board member and chairwoman. Between 1915 and 1923, with her assistance, the organization appealed to the Supreme Court to identify as unconstitutional many laws passed by southern states. A suffragist and civil rights worker, Ovington advocated for the voting rights of all women. Passage of the 19th Amendment was delayed in the Senate by Southern Democrats who protested women’s voting rights in general, the inclusion of Black women’s suffrage in particular. This caused some white suffragists, among them, Alice Paul, to propose that Black women be excluded from this legislature, and (maybe) added at a later date. Although the measure actually passed without any significant language being changed, the battle began for it to be ratified by 36 states, a requirement for it to become law. Fully ratified by August 1920, the National Woman’s Party, of which Paul was the leader and Ovington was an advisory member, planned a celebratory meeting to be held in Washington D.C. in February, 1921. Ovington launched a singularly focused letter writing campaign, petitioning Paul to add a Black woman to the roster of speakers for the upcoming event. She nominated Mary B. Tarrell, the former president of the Federation of Colored Women. In her many missives to Paul and her associates, Ovington outlined and recounted the obstacles, abuses, and harm faced by Black voters, especially Black women. She argued that any progress made by the women’s suffrage movement would be undermined without the inclusion of Black women, and warned that individuals, who risked their lives for the right to vote and now risked their lives to exercise this right, would be ostracized and offended if they were not accurately recognized and represented. The 19th amendment theoretically gave Black women the right to vote, but existing discriminatory laws and other racist rules prevented as much as 75% of this population from participating in elections. Ovington was keenly aware of the difficulties and perils encountered by Black women at the polls; she entreated and demanded that their stalwart determination and personal bravery be acknowledged with representation. May I point out however that Mrs. Talbert does represent the colored women of the United States and that no white woman can today represent the colored women of this country. Owing to our caste system, these women are little known by white women and carry on their organization largely distinct from the organizations of your and my race. This being the case, it is surely eminently proper that a meeting which has as one of its objects the honoring of the great feminists of the nineteenth century should have on its program a representative colored woman. Ovington’s assertion that no white woman could speak better than a Black woman about the experience of being a Black woman in the United States seems obvious, and yet was still rebuffed: Paul only invited white speakers. Continuing to advocate for voting and civil rights, Ovington remained fully committed to these causes for the rest of her life. In June, 1934, she embarked on a speaking tour of 14 colleges. Ovington wanted to show audiences that the NAACP consisted of Black and white people; her main objective was to demonstrate to Black youth that there were white people who hated racism. A well-published author, Ovington wrote an anthology of biographical sketches of prominent Black individuals, an autobiography, and a history of the NAACP.  Forced to retire due to ill health in 1947, she died in 1951 at the age of 86. Her dedication and legacy are inspirations to anyone who seeks the courage of their convictions in the continuous quest for social justice.

From the Archives Published in TBR News Media May 12, 1994 By Jane S. Gombieski Almost a decade after Jackie Robinson broke the color line in National League and Larry Doby and Satchel Paige did so in the American, the Setauket and Port Jefferson athletic clubs became integrated. In baseball's early days, an unwritten code referred to as the "gentlemen's agreement" barred men of color from playing on white teams. Soon after Andrew "Rube" Foster founded the first Negro National League in 1920, Suffolk men of Native American and African descent formed independent teams like the Colored Giants of Huntington, Miller Place and Smithtown and the Suffolk Giants of Setauket. More than 30 years later, sons of the Treadwell, Bunn and Edwards families -- families with deep roots and long traditions in Suffolk County's north shore -- made the transition to integrated baseball, awakening the spirit of democracy with each crack of the bat. From their first games in the 1920s, the black Suffolk Giants were hailed for spectacular pitching, "homers" that skyrocketed out of ballparks, and awe-inspiring fielding. Home field was the farmland behind the present Edwards grocery store. Away games were played on diamonds set in cow pastures and potato fields. The crowd-pleasing, semiprofessional Giants drew a big gate, making them sought after opponents by white teams as well as black, since teams shared the proceeds of admission charges. A huge crowd gathered for the Giants' Labor Day 1921 game against the Colored Giants of Huntington on Echo Field, next to the Lace Mill in Port Jefferson Station. Playing for Setauket were Morton, James and George Treadwell, B. Mackay, J. Hart, B. Bunce, C. Haynes, and F. Conklin. On July 4, 1923, the white Port Jefferson team resorted to ringers (non-member professional players) to beat the Giants in an extra inning before a wildly cheering crowd. Irene Treadwell Bunn, whose father Morton was a star catcher for the Giants in the 1920s, recalls those days well. "We lived in St. James then," she said. "My grandfather's birthday fell on the fourth of July, so my father always played his heart out on those days." "Hub" was the nickname of Carlton Edwards, the sensational pitcher for the Setauket Giants in the 1930s, '40s, and '50s. Edwards was given his nickname after Carl Hubble of the New York Giants, who in 1934 successively struck out Babe Ruth, Lou Gehrig, Jimmie Fox, Al Simmons, Joe Cronin and Lefty Gomez. Edwards' penchant for pitching no-hitters -- including one game in which he struck out 19 batters in a row -- made him as well-known locally as his great-great-grandfather, "Grandpa Levi," the last Indian medicine man on Long Island, and a descendant of Rhode Island's King Philip. Today, Edwards is custodian at Ward Melville High School and runs the after-school teen sport center there. "We had great games against Mount Sinai and the Ronkonkoma Pirates, which was a white powerhouse team with some real good Polish hitters, like Carl Yastrzemski [of Bridgehampton] who later played for the Boston Red Sox." Edwards reminisced. "I struck him out." Edwards speaks modestly about his own career, but acknowledges the limitations the color bar placed on the careers of others. Jim Treadwell, an ace pitcher who played well into his fifties, was Edwards' uncle. "Uncle Jim could easily have made the major leagues if the color line wasn't there back then," he said. Others are more expansive about Edwards' own talents. "He was superb," said Theodore Green, archivist for the Setauket Bethel African Methodist Episcopalian Church. "In the mid-1950s, he was so good that Guy Castro Sr., co-manager of the Setauket A.C. [Athletic Club], invited him to join the team." Castro recalls the invitation. "Hub was playing with my son Guy Jr. and I said 'Why not come play with us?' In fact, his uncles Ralph and William Bunn and his brother 'Beeb' Leroy Edwards joined. We never had any trouble. Maybe some were jealous that we had terrific players, but no racial problems." Recalling the road from school to Giants to Setauket A.C., Carlton Edwards pointed out that there was never a color line at Setauket High School. He remembers just one racial incident at a game, adding that on that day, "maybe sometimes we slid a little harder than we had to." Today, Edwards maintains, all the baseball trophies he won are secondary to the pleasure he finds in still living in the Three Village community. "I really love it here," he said. "We have such great people and kids who know the value of family and baseball." Please consider buying a T-shirt, honoring Hub and the game. Shirts sell for $25 + shipping, come in 6 different colors and are proudly made in America. The fundraiser runs through Friday, July 31st, 2020. 100% of the proceeds will be used to help support and fund the Three Village Historical Society's education programs. Visit https://www.customink.com/fundraising/safe-at-home to get your shirt today.

By Beverly Tyler In the many years before his death in 1931, Jacob Hart was a familiar figure in Setauket, especially around the mill pond where he lived with his wife Hannah and their children. Jacob was born in March of 1857. As a young man, following the end of the Civil War, he signed on as a cook, probably on local coasting schooners carrying cargo and occasional passengers around Long Island Sound and up and down the Atlantic coast. Jacob followed the sea for a time but the start of a series of depressions in 1873 may have ended his career as a ships cook. Two years later Jacob married 19 year old Hannah Eliza Taylor, who at the young age of 14, arrived in Port Jefferson from her home in Virginia. She had been sent north by her father to escape a “nasty-mean” stepmother, as told by her daughter Lucy Hart Keyes, “. . .her father said, ‘I’ll send you somewheres where you can get your education and you’ll be treated nice.’” Despite the recessions, the opening of the rubber factory in Setauket gave Jacob the opportunity to have employment close to home. Work at the five-story, former piano factory, however was not easy nor did it provide steady employment for Jacob or the other local men, women and children who worked there. The rubber factory, opened, closed, reorganized, and failed frequently, so less skilled workers like Jacob found themselves unemployed one month and working eleven-hour days, six days a week the next month. By the time the rubber factory opened in 1877, on what became known as Chicken Hill, Jacob and Hannah’s first two children, Daniel and Rebecca, had been born. Regarded as one of the best workmen at the factory on Chicken Hill, Jacob worked there until the factory closed for the last time, probably in June of 1898. Jacob and his family lived most of their married life in a Cape Cod-style house at the intersection of Lake and Main Streets in Setauket close by the stream that becomes the Setauket Mill Pond after it passes under Christian Avenue. Their daughter Lucy, born in February 1899, spoke about growing up in Setauket. “Papa always had pigs. We raised chickens, we had ducks . . .Papa had a garden and he always raised his own potatoes, cabbage, yellow turnips, a lot of white beans, and then we had what you call samp. That was a Long Island dish, everybody ate it.” Lucy also talked about how her father used his boat to keep the stream behind the house and the ponds clear of debris. “Papa loved that pond and he loved them people and he kept it cleared out.” In the first decades of the 20th century Jacob Hart, like many local “day laborers” (1900 census), had many jobs and he was well-known and well-liked around town. The story of Jacob’s wife, Hannah Eliza Taylor Hart, and her trip back to her first home in Virginia, was told by Lucy Hart Keyes as a part of the Eel Catching oral history project by Professor Glenda Dickerson and her SUNY/Stony Brook students in 1988. Lucy remembered, “I wish I could remember the name of that minister. He came to Setauket to preach and Mama was telling him she never knew after her mother. She was sold from her. This minister got in touch with different people and he found Mama’s mother . . .and Mama was married then, had several children. Papa got enough money together and she went down to Richmond to her mother. She stayed down with her, I guess a whole month. She said, ‘after my mother was sold from my father she married another man and had all these other children.’ And her father married again and he had children by another woman. But she never found her father, he died.” Lucy, when she was six or seven, used to stop at the Tyler post office and general store on her way home from school on the Setauket Village Green. “They were such nice ladies. Miss Annie took care of the mail. . .Miss Corinne took care of the store. Momma and Papa bought all their groceries there. We bought canned goods, salt pork, potatoes, bread and even bananas in later years. We were a big family and we was always down there. Sometimes Papa paid once a week. They kept track of it and I could get anything. They never asked no questions, . . There was a glass case in the store which contained a number of selections of sweets. . . You would get four or five round things for a penny. jaw breakers, three or four for a penny; and stick candy was a penny a stick.” Lucy Hart Keyes’ remembrances are a part of the collection of the Three Village Historical Society. The home she grew up in no longer exists, but it was the subject of a three-year archaeological dig that will continue to provide clues to the life of one Setauket African American family. The day book from the Tyler General Store featuring entries for Jacob Hart and his family is also featured in the seventh Founders Day virtual video exploration of the Town of Brookhaven’s Original Settlement on the Three Village Historical Society website https://www.tvhs.org/foundersday2020.

It is with great sadness that the Three Village Historical Society announces the loss of a member and a friend of the Three Village Community. Harold “Hap” Barnes passed away on July 8th, of complications from COPD. Hap was 84 years young. When the society acquired its history center, the Bayles-Sweezy House, Hap took on the responsibility of building and grounds. We could always rely on him whether it was a large or small project or repair. He always made sure that the electric candles were placed in all the windows of the society’s history center and that a lit tree graced the field for the holidays. Hap was a member of the team of society volunteers who built a full-size replica of William Sidney Mount’s portable studio for “William Sidney Mount Day” in 1999. He could be seen at numerous society events helping with traffic and other tasks. Hap and his vintage cars could be seen leading the society at community parades or on display at various society events. Hap was a member of the society’s local history committee for many years where he shared his stories and memories of the area with others. In the year 2000 Hap was the recipient of the society’s Gayle Becher Memorial Award. An award that honors volunteers whose work consists of loyal support repeated on a regular basis. Hap could have won that award year after year. A memorial service for Hap will be held early in September at the Frank Melville Memorial Park.

By Tara Mae Everyone is influenced by their cultural background, either through acceptance, rejection, or some combination of the two.Olivia Ward Bush-Banks was a writer, journalist, historian, and dramatist. Her relationship with her Black and Montaukett lineage, and her ties to Long Island, informed and inspired her work. In her writing and much of her other work, Bush-Banks amplified her cultural identity. During her life, Bush-Banks was a respected and valued figure in Black and Indigenous communities. Throughout her many travels, her ties to her heritage kept her grounded in her history even as her writing and outreach relayed it to a larger audience. Sustained by her familial ties, her work was driven by the need to provide for her family, and it elevated the effort of her pursuits. Born on May 23, 1869, in Sag Harbor, she was the youngest of three daughters. Her parents, Eliza Draper and Abraham Ward, were each of Black and Montaukett descent. It was not uncommon for Blacks and Indigenous people to intermarry: such unions and their resulting families faced racism and discrimination. Her mother died when she was around 9 months old, and her father moved the family to Providence, Rhode Island. Upon Abraham’s remarriage, he gave Bush-Banks to be reared by her maternal aunt, Maria Draper, who raised her as her own. She studied nursing in high school but, encouraged and supported by Maria, developed a passion for drama and poetry. When Bush-Banks was about 20 years old, she married Frank Bush. They had two daughters, Rosamund, who died as a young woman, and Marie. They were divorced by 1895. Bush-Banks later referred to the union as “most unfortunate.” She was then the primary caretaker and money earner for her family, including her aunt. In the years following, Bush-Banks traveled between Providence and Boston, seeking employment while crafting her first book of poetry, Original Poems, published in 1899. The volume, consisting of 10 poems, was lauded by Black poet Paul Lawrence Dunbar. Its topics were ones that she revisited in her career: Black experience and identity, religious exaltation, faith and determination. Voice of the Negro, an established Black publication, printed several of them. Supporting her art as well as her dependents, she interwove her social conscience into these enterprises. Circa 1900, Bush-Banks was employed as an assistant theater director for the Robert Gould Shaw Settlement House in Boston, a position she had for approximately the next 14 years. She continued to write and publish, contributing to publications such as Colored American Magazine. Bush-Banks was a literary editor of the Citizen magazine of Boston and was a member of the Northeastern Federation of Women’s Clubs. She returned with her family to the South Fork of Long Island in 1914 and became the Montaukett tribal historian. Because of its association with Black people, the Montauket was often not considered to be a tribe. Her mother and aunt were raised in the Montaukett culture, and Bush-Banks valued its practices and preservation. As the historian, she was responsible for upholding and imparting the tribe’s oral history and traditions. This role, while always vital, was incredibly significant since in Riverhead, 1910, Judge Abel Blackmar ruled, in Wyandank Pharoah v. Jane Benson, et. al., the tribe extinct. He announced his decision to a courtroom full of Montaukett persons. His verdict stripped the tribe of all its tribal land. Because the tribe is still not recognized by New York State, it is not recognized by the federal government. Most closely related to the Pequot and Narragansett tribes of Connecticut and Rhode Island, who share customs and the Algonquin language, the tribe’s lack of official status renders its people unable to have their own tribal government. To this day, there is an ongoing fight to have its designation restored. The Montaukett people remain part of the Lenape/Algonquin tribes. While working as the tribal historian, Bush-Banks was developing her poetry. Driftwood, published in 1914, remains her best-known collection. This anthology included two prose pieces and 25 poems, among them elegies for prominent men in the American history of the Black community: Abraham Lincoln, William Lloyd Garrison, Wendell Phillips, Frederick Douglass, and Paul Lawrence Dunbar. Driftwood further examines ideas put forth in Original Poems. In “Hope,” Bush-Banks muses “Prejudice, the floating wreckage of chattel slavery, rises ever to the surface of the turbulent waters of a Nation's life, obstructing each best attempt toward a safe course to its highest citizenship.” She knows that the country will not and cannot meet its noblest intentions until it reckons with its ongoing issues of discrimination, and acknowledges the lasting and detrimental impact of slavery. Other writings allude to different dichotomies, like the thin, tenuous line that separates hope from despair. “Morning on Shinnecock,” published in 1916, invokes natural imagery that addresses the promise of a new day: “Soft on my ear the warbling birds/Were heralding the birth of morning.” This respite then cedes to the acceptance that this fresh start will not bring change but rather give way to another day of trials and tribulations. Twas this,—how fair my life began; How pleasant was its hour of dawn; But, merging into sorrow’s day, Then beauty faded with the morn. Bush-Banks conjures a joy that is fleeting when confronted with the reality of a trying present. Admired by her literary peers, society sought to limit her because of her race and sex. As a biracial female artist, her mere existence, much less her work, was arguably a radical statement to (white) society. Bush-Banks’ writing is noteworthy for incorporating and recording ethnic and regional dialects that would otherwise not exist in written form. Only one of her plays was published while she was alive, Memories of Calvary: An Easter Sketch, which was one of the final elements of her oeuvre to be heavily influenced by religion. Her plays that had elements of interracial culture were viewed as too controversial for the time and not produced during her life. Yet the art she created was simply born of her own experience and circumstances. Her second marriage, to Anthony Banks, yielded a move to Chicago where his job with the Pullman Company was located. Bush-Banks maintained her connections to New York as Marie lived in New York City with her family. She was estranged from Rosamund seemingly due to personality differences, and a dislike of her husband. Rosamund apparently died before the two could reconcile. Circa 1920, Bush-Banks wrote Indian Trails: Or Trail of the Montauk. Surviving in segments, this play reflects her Montaukett birthright. Utilizing her personal knowledge of the ways of the tribe, it addresses the fracturing cultural unity of the Montaukett people and envisions a harmonious reunification at the play’s conclusion when European settlers of the future agree to restore the lands to the Indigenous people. Following this composition, her focus more completely shifted to exploring Black life and heritage. While based out of Chicago, Bush-Banks grew increasingly involved in the intellectual and artistic elements of the Harlem Renaissance, and counted Paul Robeson, W.E.B. Du Bois, and Countee Cullen as friends. Her writing from this period highlights the collective struggles of Black people, the need for social reform, and her faith. Bush-Banks also promoted opportunities for other creators. She and her husband founded the Bush-Banks School of Expression in Chicago. It provided a space for Black artists to meet and nurture their art. Musicians and actors gave recitals and put on performances at the school. Bush-Banks accessed her theatrical roots, crafting dramas and teaching drama in Chicago public schools. By the 1930s, Bush-Banks was home in New York state. She started writing for the New Rochelle Westchester Record-Courier as a “cultural art” critic. Increasingly dissatisfied with the direction of the Harlem Renaissance and living in New Rochelle, she joined the Works Progress Administration’s Federal Theater Program in 1936 and served as a drama coach for the community center of the Abyssinian Baptist Church in Harlem. That same year, she finished an adult education course, and became a certified teacher. Although Bush-Banks continued to write her own material, certain pieces remained unpublished, probably because so much of it dealt with interracial dynamics. She died in 1944, leaving behind more unpublished than published writing. Bush-Banks is, perhaps, less well known than her creative contemporaries, but her life and work are vital to understanding, appreciating, and learning about the cultural diversity of America.

By Tara Ebrahimian Published in The Historian, Winter 2019 From the TVHS Archives “Chicken Hill: A Community Lost to Time” is perhaps a somewhat hidden treasure of the Three Village Historical Society (TVHS). The nationally recognized exhibit, conceptualized and curated by Dr. Frank Turano, shares, from the American Association for State and Local History, an “Award of Merit” with the 9-11 Museum in New York City. It offers a comprehensive, interactive journey into the history of the Three Village’s working class, multiracial, multi-ethnic community, which existed in three incarnations between 1857 and 1960. The exhibit is a portal into the past, and the abundance of primary source materials, including personal accounts, pictures, documents, clothing, and other artifacts, enables a visitor to be immersed in the abundant lore of Chicken Hill. A microcosm of the diversity of America, Chicken Hill was only one mile in diameter, but home to many different people, including Native Americans, Eastern and Western European immigrants, and African Americans. At its most robust, hundreds of people lived on Chicken Hill. Throughout its history, Chicken Hill hosted a piano factory, a rubber factory, a public school, and a talking crow. At the center of this community, was the African Methodist Episcopal (A.M.E.) Church, a cultural landmark on Christian Avenue. Brothers Robert and William Nunns were very successful piano manufacturers, who operated a factory in New York City. Robert Nunns moved to Setauket in 1857, and built a factory on Chicken Hill. A relatively small team of employees, including members of the Hawkins and Steinway families, annually produced hundreds of pianos. This operation ran successfully for years, until the start of the Civil War. The biggest market for these pianos was in the South, so the Civil War had an adverse effect on the business; Robert Nunns had to file for bankruptcy, and the factory closed in 1867. It remained unoccupied until 1876, when the Long Island Rubber Company opened. The rubber factory mainly employed Irish immigrants who came from the Lower East Side; it eventually evolved into the L.B. Smith Company. In 1888, one of the workers decided to form a union; subsequently, the workforce was terminated, and the business filed for bankruptcy. The owners then reincorporated and created the Brookhaven Rubber Company. They repeated this process for the rest of the 19th century and into the 20th century. In 1895, the factory became the largest employer in Suffolk County, employing over 500 people, including many Eastern European Jewish immigrants. It closed in the early 1900s, after a number of damaging fires (at least two of which were of somewhat dubious origin.) After the fire in 1904, most of the workers left Chicken Hill but the merchants remained. Hymie Golden, the owner of Golden’s General Store, was among other things, a trainer of trotter horses, a racing enthusiast, and the adopted father to a fledgling crow named Jake. Jake imprinted on Hymie, who taught him how to speak. He was such a coveted companion, he was actually kidnapped and spirited away to Brooklyn. Luckily, Jake escaped and flew home to Hymie. The incident was reported in at least one New York City newspaper. Among the population that resided on Chicken Hill, was Adelaide Sells, a singer at the A.M.E. Church. She won amateur hour twice at the Apollo Theater, and went on tour with an up and coming rhythm and blues singer, Johnny Ace. Carlton “Hub” Edwards, a talented baseball player, pitched for the varsity baseball team as an eighth grader; in eleventh grade, he pitched for both the varsity team and the local semi-pro team. In 1950, his three no-hitters won him the attention of the Brooklyn Dodgers. Shortly thereafter, he and his brother got two draft notices each: one from the Brooklyn Dodgers and one from the United States government. The occupants of Chicken Hill created and maintained an industrious society, rich in a shared sense of place. Most of the residents rented their houses, however, and following the suburbanization influx of 1960, they had to find new homes. Their departure facilitated the establishment of the commercial district. Chicken Hill’s three different eras had a lasting effect on the community at large, both culturally and economically, and its impact was felt throughout the Three Village area. The exhibit, curated by Dr. Turano, and Karen Martin, Society archivist, illustrates this influence, featuring a Nunns piano, artifacts from the rubber factory, historic photographs, and recorded interviews with former residents of the diverse community.

By Tara Mae Hercules Mulligan, immigrant and Revolutionary War hero, embodies the evolution and development of the ambitious, yet often exclusionary, ideals of America. An immigrant from Ireland, he devoted himself to the promise of the country and embodied its duality. Mulligan’s, like America’s, vision of freedom was imperfect, but expanded to be more inclusive. Born in Ireland on September 25, 1740, at the age of six, Mulligan moved with his family to New York City. After graduating from King’s College (now Columbia University), he began working for his father’s accounting firm. Mulligan eventually opened his own tailoring and haberdashery business, that specifically catered to the tastes of wealthy officers of the British Army. He married Elizabeth Sanders in Manhattan’s Trinity Church, which was established by the Church of England; they had eight children. His famed association with Alexander Hamilton began when Mulligan’s brother Hugh introduced him to Hamilton shortly after his arrival from St. Croix in 1772. Mulligan was also acquainted with the Crugers, for whom Hamiton had clerked before he came to America. Hugh helped Hamilton sell cargo to pay for his education and expenses. With Mulligan’s assistance, Hamilton entered the Elizabethtown Academy grammar school to prepare for college, then the College of New Jersey at Princeton (now Princeton University), and finally Kings College. While Hamilton was in New Jersey, Mulligan connected him with William Livingston, the eventual governor of New Jersey and a signer of the Constitution. Upon Hamilton’s return to New York, Mulligan took him in as a lodger. Mulligan fully convinced Hamilton, who had originally defended British rule of the colonies, that it was unjust. A staunch believer in American independence from English rule, in 1765 Mulligan became one of the first members of the Sons of Liberty, a secret society founded by Samual Adams to fight taxation by the British and promote colonial independence. An early agitator against the British occupation, in 1770 Mulligan joined other Sons of Liberty in mobbing British soldiers at the Battle of Golden Hill in New York City. This event is considered to be a preliminary conflict that led to the American Revolution. As a precursor to his career in espionage, Mulligan was a member of the New York Committee of Correspondence. It garnered support for freedom from British rule through letter writing campaigns and targeted communications. Even after opening his tailoring and haberdashery shop in 1774, Mulligan continued his acts of rebellion. In 1775, he was with the Corsicans, a New York volunteer militia, as it captured four cannons from the Battery while under fire from the HMS Asia. The next year, the Sons of Liberty, with him in attendance, knocked over a statue of King George III in Bowling Green. They melted down the lead into bullets to be used against British forces. During this period, Washington saw the need for reliable data about the occupying British forces in New York City. Hamilton, who in 1775, wrote a powerful essay that advocated the need for American independence, was then an officer on Washington’s staff. He recommended Mulligan for the role. Mulligan was in a unique position to casually, yet surreptitiously gather information about the British Army. Mulligan had both personal and professional ties to England and its military. His wife was the niece of a prominent and decorated former officer in the British Royal Navy. His shop was very popular among its officers; he courted this relationship and exploited it for the benefit of the patriotic cause. Following the Continental Army’s defeat at the Battle of Long Island, Mulligan had tried to leave New York. He was thwarted by a party of Tory militiamen who captured him and forcibly returned him to the state. When Washington requested his assistance, Mulligan was eager to offer his services. Mulligan connected with Robert Townsend of the Culper Spy Ring, and operated both in conjunction with the espionage network and independent of it, establishing a chain of communication that went directly to Washington. Mulligan employed many tailors but cultivated a personal rapport with his customers himself, greeting them, taking their measurements, etc. This enabled him to engage the British officers in personal, and revealing, conversations. He played to their vanities, coaxing them into disclosing practical and anecdotal information. Mulligan frequently plied them with whiskey to keep the talk flowing. If many officers gave the same date for needing their uniforms repaired and returned, Mulligan deduced the next tactical move of the British. They took him into their confidence, and thought him an ally, tarnishing his standing with his neighbors opposed to British occupation. In order to help the Patriots, Mulligan sacrificed his reputation among them. He apparently shared the same cognitive dissonance as many of the founding fathers: while he fought so fervently for independence from the colonies, he may have “owned” an enslaved person. Sometimes described as a servant, frequently identified as an enslaved person, Cato, a Black man, is consistently recognized as a Black Patriot, and according to Mulligan, worked as a “willing accomplice.” Once Mulligan got his intel from the officers, he would send Cato as a courier to Washington’s headquarters in New Jersey. Cato knew Hamilton, and therefore had a direct line to Washington. With a few notable exceptions, he was allowed to go into New Jersey without interference. In general, a Black man was not suspected by the British of being a messenger to Washington. And, many British soldiers he encountered along the journey visited Mulligan’s shop and were acquainted with him. These activities put Mulligan and Cato at risk. Mulligan, who charmed his way out of jail, was arrested twice (Benedict Arnold named him a spy); Cato was beaten at least once. They were not dissuaded from their activities. Each was indispensable to the success of the war effort. Mulligan is credited, with Cato’s aid, for twice saving Washington’s life. The first occasion was in 1779. Mulligan learned, from the enthusiastic oversharing of an eager officer, that "before another day, we'll have the rebel general in our hands." Mulligan rushed the officer out of the store, and quickly sent Cato to warn Washington, who changed his plans and avoided an ambush. The second time, Mulligan’s source was Hugh. Through his work with the British commissariat in New York City, he kept Mulligan informed about British comings and goings. In this case, Hugh was commissioned by British General Sir Henry Clinton to stock boats with enough provision for 300 troops. They intended to intercept Washington en route to Rhode Island via the Connecticut shoreline. Cato promptly set off to alert Washington to the planned attack; Washington recalibrated his course and arrived safely in New England. Mulligan was so effective at hiding his true allegiance that by the end of the war he and Cato were in danger of being labeled traitors to American independence. Since Tories were being tarred and feathered, it was a valid concern. In a show of camaraderie, Washington visited Mulligan’s house, ate breakfast with him, and shopped in his store. As president, Washington continued to do business with Mulligan, updating his wardrobe with garments from the tailor. Few details exist about Cato’s life; much of the information is through the lens of his association with Mulligan and his efforts during the Revolution. There are no details about his life after the war ended. Mulligan seems a white man of his time, unable or unwilling to fully extend the freedoms for which he risked his life to Blacks (or women.) Contemporaries, such as Hamilton, were frequently abolitionists more in theory than in practice; if emancipation interfered with his personal or practical goals, they set it aside or compromised. In 1785 Mulligan was one of 19 founders, all white men, of the New York Manumission Society, which advocated for the discontinuation of the slave trade, gradual abolition of slavery, manumission of enslaved people, as well as protection and expansion of the rights of free Blacks. It was one of the first such organizations in the newly formed nation, and set a precedent for later, more encompassing abolitionist policies and actions. Several members were Quakers. The majority of the participants were wealthy and of good social standing: many were also slaveholders. Whether they saw themselves as saviors or guardians, they used their influence to gather practical and financial interest in these pursuits, and provided financial and legal aid to Black persons in New York. The Society founded the African Free School for poor and orphaned children of enslaved and free Black people. This was the first free public school in the United States. As Mulligan’s status as a quiet, but vital, figure in the American Revolution became better known and he explored social justice causes with other former revolutionaries, his business continued to thrive. He retired in 1820, at the age of 80, and died in 1825. He is buried near Hamilton in Trinity Church Cemetery. An imperfect patriot, Mulligan, strove to defeat different types of tyranny, even as he may have participated in the institution of slavery.

The traditional celebrations of July 4th will look different this year as the nation reflects on its history and we deal with the pandemic gripping the nation. Picnics, barbeques, concerts, and family gatherings must be done with caution and social distancing. It is also a time to reflect on our nation’s history as it relates to the current social and equality movements taking place in the country today. July 4th was established as a federal holiday in 1941 to celebrate our independence as a nation. However, July 2nd, 1776 was the date Congress voted on the resolution to separate from Britain and become “free and independent states”. On July 4th congress voted on the formal document known as The Declaration of Independence. The Declaration itself was not signed until August 1776. The Adams Family Papers, in the collection of the Massachusetts Historical Society, contains a letter from John Adams to Abigail Adams written on 3 July 1776 in which he states: “The Second Day of July 1776, will be the most memorable Epocha, in the History of America. I am apt to believe that it will be celebrated, by succeeding Generations, as the great anniversary Festival. It ought to be commemorated, as the Day of Deliverance by Solemn Acts of Devotion to God Almighty. It ought to be Solemnized with Pomp and Parade with Shews, Games, Sports, Guns, Bells, Bonfires and Illuminations from one End of this Continent to the other from this Time forward forever more.” The July 18, 1777 issue of the Virginia Gazette recounts Philadelphia's 4th of July celebration. The ships were dressed with the colors of the United States. At 1:00 thirteen cannons were discharged from each ship signifying the thirteen colonies. A dinner for the Congress and other government officials, music, and a tribute paid to those who gave their lives to the cause of the country took place. “The evening was closed with the ringing of bells and at night, there was a grand exhibition of fireworks, (which began and concluded with thirteen rockets) on the commons, and the city was beautifully illuminated...Thus may the 4th of July, that glorious and ever memorable day, be celebrated through America, by the fans of freedom, from age to age till time shall be no more." Because of the COVID-19 virus this year’s traditional Macy’s fireworks display will be a week-long celebration with smaller shows in each of the NYC boroughs, unannounced to avoid crowds. The celebration culminates with a televised music and fireworks special on July 4th. The first Macy’s fireworks display was on July 1, 1958. The purpose was to celebrate the 100th anniversary of the department store chain founded by Rowland Hussey Macy. It was estimated that one million people watched the program from the east bank of the Hudson River with hundreds of children perched in trees along Riverside Drive and traffic jams in the city and across the river in NJ. The 36 minute display made up of two and a half tons of fireworks illuminated the city’s skyline. Among the more unique displays were Tinker Bell, a silhouette of the Macy’s store, the Spirit of ’76 and, in tribute to Capt. R. H. Macy store founder and former whaler, a fat bellied whale jeweled with lights. (Kaplan, Morris, “Million Here See River Fireworks: Line Hudson Shore to View Display Saluting Macy’s 100th Anniversary”, New York Times, July 2, 1958.) "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal..." Throughout history this phrase has been seen to exclude women, LGBTQ+, African-Americans and others who have sought equality. Women's Rights From the collection of the Library of Congress this Charles Jay Taylor illustration from the July 4, 1894 issue of Puck magazine depicts an “Independence Day of the Future”. The chromolithograph “shows a future 4th of July celebration where women have gained suffrage and equality; it shows young and old women ringing a bell labeled "Equal Rights", as women emerge from underground and participate in a procession, marching under banners that state "United Order of Matinee Women" and "Higher Culture Division" past statures of a woman holding a rolling pin labeled "Erected to the Memory of the First Woman Who Wore Breeches" and an eagle, wearing a bonnet, labeled "The American Bird is a Hen Eagle and Lays Eggs. Lil Blake Sculp." A notice on a bell tower states “Strike Out the Word Male”. (Taylor, Charles Jay, Artist. "Independence Day" of the future, 1894. N.Y.: Published by Keppler & Schwarzmann, July 4) Frederick Douglass “What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?" On July 5, 1852 Frederick Douglass addressed the Rochester [NY] Ladies' Anti-Slavery Society. The speech explores the constitutional and values-based arguments against the continued existence of Slavery in the United States. Douglass orates that positive statements about American values, such as liberty, citizenship, and freedom, were an offense to the enslaved population of the United States because of their lack of freedom, liberty, and citizenship. As well, Douglass referred not only to the captivity of enslaved people, but to the merciless exploitation and the cruelty and torture that slaves were subjected to in the United States. (Wikipedia: What to the Slave Is the Fourth of July?) A Nation's Story: "What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?" Blog-post from the National Museum of African American History & Culture. Douglass states that the nation's founders are great men for their ideals for freedom, but in doing so he brings awareness to the hypocrisy of their ideals with the existence of slavery on American soil. Douglass continues to interrogate the meaning of the Declaration of Independence, to enslaved African Americans experiencing grave inequality and injustice: “But such is not the state of the case. I say it with a sad sense of the disparity between us. I am not included within the pale of glorious anniversary! Your high independence only reveals the immeasurable distance between us. The blessings in which you, this day, rejoice, are not enjoyed in common. The rich inheritance of justice, liberty, prosperity and independence, bequeathed by your fathers, is shared by you, not by me. The sunlight that brought light and healing to you, has brought stripes and death to me. This Fourth July is yours, not mine. You may rejoice, I must mourn. To drag a man in fetters into the grand illuminated temple of liberty, and call upon him to join you in joyous anthems, were inhuman mockery and sacrilegious irony. Do you mean, citizens, to mock me, by asking me to speak to-day? If so, there is a parallel to your conduct. And let me warn you that it is dangerous to copy the example of a nation whose crimes, towering up to heaven, were thrown down by the breath of the Almighty, burying that nation in irrevocable ruin! I can to-day take up the plaintive lament of a peeled and woe-smitten people!” (transcript of address https://www.pbs.org/wgbh/aia/part4/4h2927t.html ) Arielle Gray in a July 3, 2019 commentary “As A Black American, I Don't Celebrate The Fourth Of July” states “I was introduced to Douglass' speech through my grandfather, an active man who made it a priority to expose me to black culture from a young age. I cannot quite remember the last time I accompanied him to a reading of "What to the Slave Is The Fourth of July" but I remember the feeling I had. I knew that the Fourth of July wasn't for me...But what's troublesome is that the United States, a nation that claims to be the land of the free, has a long history of denying citizenship to people who don't fit within certain paradigms.”

By Tara Mae Pride began as a protest. The Stonewall Uprising in New York City was a rebellion against ongoing mistreatment, discrimination, and abuse that helped ignite an equal rights movement. Frequently referred to as the “Rosa Parks of the gay community,” Stormé DeLarverie’s call for help the night of June 28,1969, served as one of the sparks. DeLarverie was born in 1920 in New Orleans to a Black mother who worked for the family of her father, a white man. She did not have a birth certificate (Louisiana would not issue one to her parents) and was unsure of her actual birthdate, so DeLarverie chose December 24th to celebrate. Raised primarily by her grandfather, her wealthy father paid for her education. Growing up as a biracial child in the Jim Crow South left her an outsider. DeLarverie reflected that she was beaten up by kids of both races. Bullies once hung her by the leg from a fence post, where she remained until her brother freed her. DeLarverie was left with scars and had to wear a leg brace for years. There were many such incidents, and her father sent her to private school for her own safety. She eventually stood up for herself, confronting her two most dedicated tormentors. As DeLarverie later noted in the documentary Stormé: Lady of the Jewel Box, “Somebody was always chasing me - until I stopped running.” Unable to fit in anywhere, she had to make space for herself everywhere. As a teenager, she worked for Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus, riding jumping horses bareback (and side-saddle); the gig ended due to a bad fall. Around the age of 18, DeLarverie realized that she was a lesbian, and, fearing for her safety, moved to Chicago. A commanding presence with a powerful voice, DeLarverie was a singer and entertainer, primarily collaborating with big bands. In the 1940s, she went by the name “Stormy Dale” and wore traditional women’s attire on stage. As her career developed, she exclusively used such outfits as street clothes. While touring Miami in 1946, DeLarverie met Danny Brown and Doc Brenner, proprietors of “Danny’s Jewel Box,” a drag revue. Persuaded to join the act, she planned to stay for six months. DeLarverie stayed for years. Ignoring warnings that it would ruin her reputation, she donned male drag, dressed as a dandy, and sang in a hearty baritone. DeLarverie integrated the revue, which made it the first such drag troupe in the country. It evolved into “The Jewel Box Revue,” and she starred as its emcee and solo drag king. Her performance style was so unique and distinctive it created a new historic precedent. The group toured the national black theater circuit, including the Apollo Theater, and gained a sterling reputation. Dinah Washington and Billie Holiday were among its many supporters. It was acknowledged in “mainstream” culture and attracted mixed race audiences. DeLarverie also took the stage at Radio City Music Hall and the Copacabana. She was so popular that lesbian fans began dressing in “male” apparel in her honor. DeLarverie, who at this point wore such ensembles on a daily basis, is credited with influencing gender-nonconforming women’s fashion years before unisex clothing became acceptable wardrobe staples. She had different roles for the show. DeLarverie acted as a bodyguard, protecting the revue’s transwomen and drag queens. It was an avocation that extended beyond her coworkers; for years, DeLarverie was a self-appointed sentinel of lesbian bars, stationing herself to safeguard their patrons. She functioned as a sort of guardian to lesbian street kids, looking out for them and doing her best to ensure their well-being. In New York City, she was known for her community spirit and vigilance. On June 28, 1969, during the early morning hours, DeLarverie was at the Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village. Frequented by marginalized people, such as “butch lesbians” (of which DeLarverie self-identified), transgendered men and women, drag kings and queens, and homeless youth, Stonewall was owned by the Mafia and paid a weekly “gayola” (envelope full of cash) to the police department to stay open because the bar had no liquor license. It was considered to be a focal point of gay nightlife, a place where individuals who were rejected by other establishments could gather and socialize. There was a $3 entry fee that provided two drink tickets, and it was the only gay bar in the area that had a dancefloor. Like other businesses that served the LGBTQ+ community, Stonewall was no stranger to police raids. Management was frequently tipped off in advance, and would flash the dance floor lights to let patrons know that a raid was imminent. Identifications were then checked and arrests, primarily of transgendered and crossdressing persons, were made. In many ways, this interaction proved very different. Police were commonly aggressive, even violent and abusive, during such encounters. They would regularly harass and beat persons as they arrested them. That Saturday night, there was no advanced warning of the raid and police came hours later than their normal arrival time. They entered the bar, and DeLarverie and some other “butch lesbians,’ who had risen in defense of their friends, were beaten by them. A police officer called her a pejorative term and hit her. DeLarverie hit him back. There are varying accounts of the next sequence of events. Another cop apparently struck DeLarverie in the head with a baton after she complained that her handcuffs were too tight. Bleeding from the head, four police officers dragged her to the police wagon. DeLarverie jumped out of it and ran towards Stonewall. Police pulled her back and started beating her again. DeLarverie, still bleeding, yelled to the crowd, “Why don’t you do something?” And so, with the support of a Black transgendered woman called Marsha P. Johnson, they did. The Stonewall Uprising is sometimes categorized as a riot, but DeLarverie saw it differently. “It was a rebellion, it was an uprising, it was a civil rights disobedience-it wasn’t no damn riot.” The actions of the patrons and people on the street was not coordinated, but it was inspired. The late ‘60s saw civil rights, anti-war, and women’s rights protests take many forms. The Uprising was a dialect in the language of dissent. Members of the LGBTQ+ community fought back, launching a social and political reckoning that continues today. In the following days and nights, sporadic protests and clashes with police continued to erupt, while community organizing and planning commenced. Within six months, two activist groups, the Gay Liberation Front and the Gay Activists Alliance, formed. Stonewall was a catalyst for the development of the modern day LGBTQ+ movement for equality, recognition, and protections under the law and in society. DeLarverie managed to avoid arrest that night. She continued to be the “babysitter of [her] people, all the boys and girls,” while she worked as a bouncer at lesbian bars and patrolled the Village, making sure no one, especially lesbians of whom she saw herself a guardian, was being bullied. DeLarverie was a frequent attendee of the New York City Gay Pride Parade, the first of which, held on the one year anniversary of the uprising, was not a parade, but a protest. DeLarverie lived with her partner, a dancer named Diana, for approximately 25 years until Diana’s death in the 1970s. She carried her photo with her for the rest of her life. An iconic figure of the neighborhood, DeLarverie was a prominent member of the Stonewall Rebellion Veterans Association, and served as Chief of Security, Ambassador, and Vice President. The organization represents gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender education, culture, and history. She organized and performed in fundraisers for battered women and children, musing, “Someone has to care...If people didn’t care about me when I was growing up, with my mother being Black, raised in the south...I wouldn’t be here.” DeLarverie cared all her life. Employed as a security guard for the lesbian bar Henrietta Hudson from 1990 to 2005, she retired at the age of 85. DeLarverie lived for years in the Chelsea Hotel, before moving into a nursing home. Concerned about the quality of her care there, Lisa Cannastraci, an owner of Henrietta Hudson, and another friend, Michele Zalopany, became her legal guardians. They  moved DeLarverie, who had dementia, into a more suitable facility. She died on May 24, 2014 at the age of 93. A woman who blazed trails simply by being herself, DeLarverie’s legacy is an inspiration to anyone who seeks to confidently embrace their own identity while demanding the right to flourish.

By Tara Mae Writer Langston Hughes, a son of the United States, inherited the broken promise of opportunity for “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” and was a father of a cultural revolution, the Harlem Renaissance. His poem “I Too” is a direct response to Walt Whitman’s poem “I Hear America Singing.” It is an assertion that he has a right to the freedoms afforded to other citizens. “Let American Be America Again,” addresses the fact that the “great experiment” was not designed to succeed for everyone. And, some of his poetry contains allusion to another persecuted identity: that of a gay man. Hughes’ work is rooted in the other side of the American dream. James Mercer Langston Hughes, born February 1, 1902, in Joplin, Missouri, was raised in a series of Midwestern towns. His parents divorced when he was a child, and his father, in a quest to escape endemic racism, left the country, journeying through Cuba and Mexico. Hughes’ mother left him in the care of his maternal grandmother, Mary Patterson Langston, as she traveled to find employment. Langston raised Hughes to appreciate and understand his Black heritage and how it fit into the larger American narrative. He later recalled, “Through my grandmother's stories life always moved, moved heroically toward an end. Nobody ever cried in my grandmother's stories. They worked, schemed, or fought. But no crying." She instilled in him a desire to support his community, and he took her message to heart. Hughes wrote about everyday life for Black Americans and how systematic and systemic racism affected all aspects of that existence. After spending years living in Lawrence, Kansas, he moved to Lincoln, Illinois to live with his mother and stepfather; they eventually settled in Cleveland, Ohio. Hughes had a strained relationship with his father, who he seldom saw. But during a rare, extended visit with him in Mexico, his father agreed to pay for his education if he studied engineering. While attending Columbia University in New York, Hughes, who began composing poetry and prose as a child and wrote for his high school newspaper, continued to write.  Although he dropped out after his first year due to the discrimination he encountered from both students and faculty, he managed to attract the notice of New York publishers, in particular that of the NAACP’s official magazine, The Crisis. Hughes left New York and found employment as a seaman and assistant to Carter G. Woodson, founder of the Association for the Study of African American Life and History. He quit the latter and became a busboy so he would have more time to focus on his writing. When he was 24 years old, he enrolled in Lincoln University, a historically Black college in Pennsylvania. Thurgood Marshall was a classmate. That same year, Hughes’ first book of poetry The Weary Blues was published. In 1929, Hughes returned to New York and helped create one of the most influential cultural movements in United States history. The Harlem Renaissance, 1910s - mid 1930s, was a Black social and cultural revitalization, depicted through music, stage performance, art, and literature. Hughes was a prominent figure and leading voice of the Harlem Renaissance, composing short stories, plays, novels, and poetry. Appreciative of and involved in the jazz scene, Hughes recognized music as its own language. He utilized rhythms of folk and jazz to inform the cadence of his poetry about racial pride and purposely used common vernacular to draw in a wider audience. Hughes strategically chose to share the stories of Blacks who lived in the lower social-enomic strata, and connected his personal life with the actuality of being Black in America. He examined how this reality intersected and diverged from the more commonly explored American story. A frequent contributor to The Crisis, both his first and last published poems were featured in the journal. More of his work appeared in it than in any other publication. Hughes explored the psychological and practical ramifications of racism, an external force that was absorbed into the muscle memory of society. He identified prejudices based on skin color even within the Black community, and the impacts of such thinking. He viewed Carl Sandberg, Paul Lawrence Dunbar, and Walt Whitman as his greatest literary influences. In “I Too,” Hughes recognizes that he and other Black Americans do not inhabit the country that Whitman describes in “I Hear America Singing.” His relationship to Whitman’s words is directly related to his understanding of racial inequalities. Whitman invokes Americans merrily engaged in meaningful labor. “Each singing what belongs to him or her and to no one else.” Every job is important for achieving personal fulfillment and the betterment of society. The work is the reward. The white subjects in Whitman’s poem have different opportunities and are treated differently by society than the first person narrator of Hughes’ poem. Hughes advocated for racial consciousness and addressed the ways, big and small, seen and unseen, that racism hampered Blacks from having the same access to the American dream. It is evident in his poem; he acknowledges the disparity of experiences. I, Too I, too, sing America. I am the darker brother. They send me to eat in the kitchen When company comes, But I laugh, And eat well, And grow strong. Tomorrow, I’ll be at the table When company comes. Nobody’ll dare Say to me, “Eat in the kitchen,” Then. Besides, They’ll see how beautiful I am And be ashamed— I, too, am America. Despite or in spite of the segregation and discrimination he encounters, Hughes affirms that he is enjoying his life while recognizing the power of his existence. He anticipates being in a position to assert access to the rights that have been denied to him and other Blacks, a time when the nation will have to acknowledge that he is also an American and part of what makes it beautiful. There is another connection to Whitman; Hughes is generally thought to have been gay. Some scholars dispute this theory, but there is evidence in his writing that gives it credence. His story “Blessed Assurance,” details a father’s anger at his son’s queerness and lack of gender heteronormativity. In specific instances, he uses the same ‘homosexual code” that Whitman used in much of his poetry. Speculation lingers because Hughes never directly elaborated on the topic of his sexuality. To remain closeted would have arguably been a self-protective measure. It was both professionally and personally dangerous to be gay, especially a gay Black man. The America that Hughes references in “Let America Be America Again” only exists for some. Hughes recognizes that disenfranchisement  in the United States is not exclusive to the Black experience, and identifies with other groups facing similar challenges. He notes that large portions of the country were built upon Black labor and suffering, yet Blacks were still forbidden or prohibited from fully participating in and benefitting from the nation’s founding tenets. Hughes determines that though discrimination has limited his access to opportunity, he will be successful. “America was never America to me,/And yet I swear this oath-/America will be!” Hughes is not giving up on his American dream. Hughes connects this theme to the greater public, who must reclaim a commitment to the nation’s ideals. We, the people, must redeem The land, the mines, the plants, the rivers. The mountains and the endless plain— All, all the stretch of these great green states— And make America again! For the principles outlined in the Constitution to be proven true, Hughes believes that a collective effort must be made. Work must be done to make it “the land of the free.” When the Harlem Renaissance ended in the mid-1930s, Hughes had proven himself a prolific artist. Among his achievements, in 1930 his debut novel Not Without Laughter won the Harmon Gold Medal for literature, and he received a Guggenheim Fellowship in 1935. From 1942-1962, as the Civil Rights movement gained mainstream attention, Hughes wrote a detailed weekly column in the leading Black newspaper, The Chicago Defender.  He remained very engaged with the art scene throughout his life, and continued to explore other creative enterprises, producing plays and co-founding theater groups. On March 24, 1953, Hughes proved that he, like the United States, contained complex multitudes: he testified before the House on Un-American Activities. Politically active for many years and a proponent for many social justice causes, such as the attempt to save the Scottsboro Boys, his unexpected appearance at the proceedings cost him friendships with W.E.B Du Bois and Paul Robeson. From this point forward, Hughes’ poetry became less obviously political and more lyrical. Until the end of his life, Hughes continued to write and publish. Acting as advisor and mentor to up-and-coming writers, such as Alice Walker, Hughes introduced them to the literary and publishing worlds. On May 22, 1967, Hughes died from complications following abdominal surgery related to prostate cancer. At the time of his death, the Civil Rights movement, which his writing helped structure and define, was fully engaged in seeking the establishment of a more free and equal country.

The first Mother’s Day celebration took place in 1908 and it would only seem natural that a day should then be created to celebrate fathers. That was the inspiration for Sonora Smart Dodd. Sonora was born February 18, 1882 in Arkansas. At the age of five her family moved to Spokane, Washington where she resided until her death in 1978. In 1899 she married John Bruce Dodd and had a son, Jack, born in 1909. Upon hearing a Mother’s Day sermon in 1909 Sonora decided there should be a day to honor fathers too. Her own father, Civil War veteran William Jackson Smart (1842-1919), was a single parent (twice widowed) who raised her and her 5 siblings after the death of his second wife. "The object of this day, she says, is to bring other(sic) father and child, and to give to the head of the house and the earner of the daily bread for his brood all the respect and honor due him...to instill the same love and reverence for the father as is the mother's portion." (Spokane Press, June 6, 1910) Much like the thought behind Mother’s Day, she wanted the Father’s Day celebration date to have a significant meaning, her father’s birthday of June 5th. She discussed the issue with her local minister who wanted more time to prepare for such a day. After gaining community support Fathers’ Day was celebrated on June 19, 1910 in Spokane at the YMCA. While white carnations became the symbol of Mother’s Day the rose became the symbol for Father’s Day. A colored rose was worn for a living father and a white rose representing the deceased. The holiday grew in national popularity due to the promotion by Mrs. Dodd and it became her lifetime commitment. The May 25, 1923 issue of The County Review states “Sunday being Fathers’ Day, red carnations were presented to the fathers in the [Center Moriches] Presbyterian church on Sunday evening.” As with Mother’s Day, there was concern commercialization of the holiday would overtake the sentiment and meaning intended for the day. In the 1930s support from the manufacturers of ties, tobacco, pipes, etc. got involved in the promotion of the day. The Father's Day Council, founded by the New York Associated Men's Wear Retailers worked to consolidate and systematize the commercial promotion of the day. (Wikipedia) "When World War II began, advertisers began to argue that celebrating Father’s Day was a way to honor American troops and support the war effort. By the end of the war, Father’s Day may not have been a federal holiday, but it was a national institution." https://www.history.com/topics/holidays/fathers-day It wasn't until 1972 that Father's Day became a federal holiday. On the 100th anniversary of the founding of Father’s Day Senator Patty Murray of Washington State introduced resolution 556 recognizing the important role that fathers play in the lives of their children and families and designating 2010 as "The Year of the Father". https://www.congress.gov/bill/111th-congress/senate-resolution/556/text Timeline: 1910 Father’s Day ceremony Spokane, Washington 1913 congressional bill introduced to recognize the holiday 1916 President Woodrow Wilson spoke at Spokane Father’s Day event 1924 President Calvin Coolidge called for the nation to observe Father’s Day on the third Sunday in June and encouraged states to do the same. 1956 Congress officially recognized Father’s Day 1966 President Lyndon Johnson issued a proclamation proclaiming the third Sunday in June as Father’s Day. 1972 President Richard Nixon declared Father’s Day a federal holiday. A Mining Tragedy Some people date the origin of Father’s Day back to 1908. On July 5, 1908, a memorial service was held at Fairmont, West Virginia for the victims of a mining accident in nearby Monongah during the previous year. The tragedy killed 361 men (250 fathers) leaving around 1000 children fatherless. Grace Golden Clayton, a member of a local church, picked this date to honor those fathers and the recent loss of her own father. The first Mother’s Day celebration in nearby Grafton, West Virginia having taken place just two months earlier may have served as the inspiration. This event never evolved further than this local tribute. Links to sources and further reading https://www.history.com/topics/holidays/fathers-day https://www.history.com/news/man-who-inspired-fathers-day-civil-war-vet-single-dad https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Father%27s_Day_(United_States) https://encyclopediaofarkansas.net/entries/sonora-louise-smart-dodd-2762/ https://blog.myheritage.com/2017/06/the-inspiration-behind-fathers-day/

Juneteenth, first established by the Black community of Texas in 1866, is now getting in New York State the recognition it has long deserved. On June 17, 2020 Governor Andrew M. Cuomo announced that he would, by Executive Order, recognize Juneteenth as a state holiday, and put it before the New York legislature to make this mandate, law. Although Juneteenth began in the South, it is widely observed throughout the country. It is annually observed in New York, including on Long Island, through independent and collaborative celebrations. Juneteenth’s historic and cultural relevance impacts the entire nation and remains hugely significant for Black heritage and United States history. It commemorates June 19, 1865, when enslaved Blacks learned that they were legally free. Union Army General Gordon Granger arrived with his troops in Galveston, Texas, and made a profound announcement: the war and slavery were over. Technically the war ended when General Robert E. Lee surrendered on April 9, 1865, and the Emancipation Proclamation, effective January 1, 1863, freed enslaved persons in Confederate states, but the news had not been shared in Texas. It was the last stronghold of slavery. Since 1862, when New Orleans was captured, slave owners from Mississippi, Louisiana, and other southern states had moved with their slaves to Texas. There were approximately 250,000 enslaved people residing in Texas when the declaration was made. Granger’s delivery of the news did not result in an immediate end of slavery.  Blacks in Galveston initially celebrated the revelation, but the mayor contradicted the law and forced them to go back to work. It was largely left to the slave owners’ discretion whether they informed individuals that they were no longer enslaved. Many did not initially share the information and instead waited for the arrival of a government agent to tell them. Blacks were frequently not informed until after the harvest. A number of newly emancipated individuals ignored the censure to stay put and left for Arkansas, Louisiana, and Oklahoma. They did so at their own risk; there were numerous reports of Blacks being lynched as they tried to leave. In 1866 freed people in Texas, in conjunction with the Freedmen’s Bureau, organized formal celebrations for “Jubilee Day.” During the years immediately after the war, Jubilee Day was sometimes celebrated on January 1st, a reference to the enactment of the Emancipation Proclamation. It also functioned as a rally for political and social advancement; Jubilee Day frequently offered instruction for voter registration and participation. The day became a mainstream event in Black communities and featured festivities, activities, and food. Segregation in cities prohibited Blacks from going to public parks. Church grounds were often used as sites for the events. And, freed individuals pooled money to purchase land on which to hold celebrations. For example, Black community leaders, led by Reverend Jack Yates, raised $1000 in 1872 to purchase land that is now Houston’s Emancipation Park. These annual celebrations began drawing thousands of participants throughout Texas and expanding beyond the state. By the end of the century, Jubilee Day was known primarily as Juneteenth. During this period, many southern states enacted punitive and punishing Jim Crow legislation that undermined or undid the economic and political progress Blacks had made during and after Reconstruction. These local and state laws were designed to subjugate and stymie Black social, economic, and political development. They disenfranchised Black people through segregation and policies such as the Grandfather Clause that limited or eliminated voting rights. Many freed people left Texas and the South in search of greater opportunities in the North. Juneteenth was a still Southern celebration and attendance outside of Texas began to wane. Younger generations, more removed from the war and seeking to distance themselves from the legacy of slavery, also started to distance themselves from participating in the unofficial holiday. As the twentieth century progressed, and people moved from agricultural to industrial employment, it was increasingly unlikely that people would be granted time off work for Juneteenth. The Great Depression, in particular, caused a migration from the country to the cities. The Civil Rights movement caused a resurgence in awareness about Juneteenth. Black youth joined their elders in the fight for Civil Rights. There was increased interest in and engagement with history and how the past informs the present. The Poor People’s March to Washington, D.C. served as a catalyst for renewed interest in Juneteenth. Participants returned to their home states and initiated Juneteenth celebrations in locations that had never before experienced them. In 1980, Texas was the first state to formally recognize Juneteenth; it declared the date a “holiday of significance…” At the end of the decade, California, Illinois, Wisconsin, Georgia, and Washington, D.C., were among the places that presented major events for Juneteenth. Although Congress has remembered Juneteenth in different ways over the years, it is not yet a national holiday. In New York, “Juneteenth Freedom Day” was first identified as a commemorative holiday in 2004, per a state law signed by Governor George Pataki. Long Island hosts a growing number of events and programs dedicated to this occasion. Frequently celebrated on the third Sunday in June, modern events share certain traits with their predecessors, including picnics, cookouts, historical reenactments, street fairs, parades, etc. This year’s festivities are scaled back due to COVID-19, but certain celebrations, such as the Long Island Unity March for Friday, June 19, are still scheduled.