This semester, my students at American University and I are developing a close looking guide to the exhibition, “Here: Pride and Belonging in African Art, ” currently on display in the National Museum of African Art (NMAfA). Here, to get us started, is my provisional guide to the complex multimedia work. “Untethered/Retethered” by South African artist Paul Emmanuel, on display in the gallery’s northeastern corner.

Paul Emmanuel
Untetherered/Retethered (2025)

Decommissioned, model T-10, U.S. military personnel parachute with severed suspension lines, detached harness with risers, 550 para-cord. High-definition video projection, stereo soundtrack, 7 min 26 sec. Parachute diameter: 35 feet. Harness dimensions: 30 x 30 inches (excluding suspension lines)

On display in: Here: Pride and Belonging in African Art, National Museum of African Art, Smithsonian Institution, Washington D.C., USA, 23 January – 23 August 2026

Note: An earlier iteration of this work, titled Untethered was on display in 2024 in the Main Court of Maryland Institute College of Art, in the artist’s graduating MFA show.

Description: A decommissioned US military parachute, its suspension guidelines cut (as required by the US Military), is draped in a manner that curves inwards, hanging vertically from the gallery ceiling, its lower sections resting on the gallery floor. An open hole of the parachute is visible in the upper center of the assemblage. Hanging in the middle is a military vest-harness of the sort worn by a paratrooper. (This top hole, or “vertex vent” opening would normally stabilize a parachute canopy by allowing trapped air to escape in a controlled manner, preventing the parachute from swinging violently during descent.)

On the paratrooper’s harness is projected an eight minute looped video, showing landscapes from Afghanistan and Iraq, and in which the visitor hears commentary in English and Arabic by US and Lebanese former service members in airborne and infantry units who served together in combat and forward operating deployments. The commentary is subtitled in English and Arabic. Veterans discuss close friendships with fellow combat members, including recollections of pretend homoerotic play, jokingly termed “Gay Chicken”.

The video installation is accompanied by a framed diptych of a ‘hand portrait’ of a Lebanese infantryman scratched into gunpowder residue and a ‘foot portrait’ of a US paratrooper scratched into boot polish.

Short Artist’s Statement: Untethered/Retethered is a video installation depicting the verbal accounts of USA and Lebanese soldiers talking about some of the intimacies that exist between them and their ‘battle-buddies’. Sometimes humorous, other times poignant, they offer a glimpse into the military cultures of both countries and are layered over landscapes of Iraq and Afghanistan. The video is projected onto a US military paratrooper’s harness, splayed open and hovering in the suspended opening of its disconnected parachute.

Detailed Artist’s Statement: At present, the United States finances, trains and arms soldiers in the Lebanese Armed Forces. My mixed European/Lebanese heritage has compelled me to spend the last three years interviewing retired and active duty U.S. and Lebanese soldiers, deployed to the ‘Greater Middle East’ region.

In these exchanges, I was struck by each soldier’s account of the camaraderie between ‘battle buddies’ and surprised that the older veterans from both countries spoke of a profound sense of loss when returning to civilian life. This traumatic experience of detachment resonated strongly with me when a U.S. paratrooper gave me his parachute. He recounted how he had acquired it after retiring from active duty in 2008, only to discover that all 30 of its suspension lines had been severed.

The accompanying original drawings on 2 cotton rags, comprise a ‘hand portrait’ of a Lebanese, active duty infantryman and a ‘foot portrait’ of a U.S. paratrooper. I was driven to record the intimacy of our conversations in some way and they both allowed me to draw their hands and feet, so as to protect their anonymity.

The Lebanese infantryman’s hands are scratched by hand with a steel blade into a layer of gunpowder residue because he uses an M16 assault rifle and ammunition supplied by the United States. The U.S. paratrooper’s feet however, are scratched into a layer of black boot polish because to this day, airborne troops use it to buff their leather, ceremonial ‘jump boots’ to signify excellence and professionalism.)

The 8 minute video loop may be viewed and heard at:
https://www.paulemmanuel.net/portfolio-1/‘here:-pride-and-belonging-in-african-art’,-smithsonian-national-museum-of-african-art,-washington-d.c.,-usa,-2026

Background: The artist, who came of age in South Africa, has previously explored cultures of military and nationalist masculinity in South Africa, most prominently in his The Lost Men series, engaging with nearly forgotten soldiers who served in World War One. Here, he engages with his father’s Lebanese heritage, and explores complex alliances between US and Lebanese military service members in the so called ‘Global War on Terror’ in joint operations in Iraq and Afghanistan. Emmanuel also builds on his work on despair, self-harm, and collective healing among combat veterans, who at times face enormous challenges when returning to civilian life.

Interpretive Notes: Untethered/Retethered evokes loving proximity with those who died tragically, before their time as well as non-romantic love between those who served in combat. The piece emerges out of Emmanuel’s partnership with US paratroopers and Lebanese infantrymen in the Greater Middle East region. As recorded in the accompanying video, self-identified straight male combat veterans nostalgically recall outrageous eroticized play in the combat zone, a longed-for moment they seek to return to through joyous collaboration with the artist. Tragically, for many, this life-enhancing sense of brotherhood has proved unsustainable back in civilian life, where depression and self-harm stalk so many combat veterans. In Emmanuel’s installation, the perpetually falling decommissioned parachute transforms into a funeral shroud; the collapsing cloth evokes both the graceful dance of the paratrooper descending while honoring the veteran victims of suicide, who fall “untethered” from the remembered joys of frontline friendship.

The open hole or vertex vent in the parachute, as well as the cut guide lines, which previously allowed for controlled descent to the ground, affords complex metaphorical associations. In its displayed form, a paratrooper strapped to this former parachute would destructively plummet to the earth; such is the case, in effect, for many combat veterans dropping without support back to civilian life. “Untethered” from their former supporting bonds, many endure post traumatic stress syndrome and heightened risk of self-harm and suicide.

The video loop, significantly, is projected onto a harness that covered the soldier’s heart, the traditional seat of emotions. Here, we hear words of surprising tenderness and jocular nostalgia for comradely banter and even homoerotic pretend play among “battle buddies.” This net effect is a simultaneous sense of being ‘untethered’ and ‘retethered,’ The veterans may be like this former, damaged parachute, cut off from support and the possibility of controlled descent back into civilian life. At the same time, acts of storytelling and shared narration may have healing functions, “re-tethering” veterans to one another and giving them the strength to endure, by compassionately caring for fellow veterans. The work thus evokes at the same time both the dissolution and reconnection of bonds among those in a former “Band of Brothers.”

Christological themes of martyrdom and potential redemption may run through the adjacent diptych of the hand of a Lebanese infantryman and the the foot of a US paratrooper. The artist painstakingly created these detailed drawings, working in the former instance with residue of exploded gunpowder, and in the latter case, the polish with which paratroopers must polish their ceremonial jump boots. These acts of creation may be compared to the Jesus’ act of washing the feet of his disciples in the New Testament, a powerful reminder that true leadership lies in serving those who are most in need. Through these artistic acts, the artist perhaps enters vicariously into the bonds of servant-brotherhood that tie together this veteran community, who are themselves wounded healers, who ultimately care for themselves by caring for their comrades.

Prompts for Closer Looking:

1. The curatorial team for the exhibition “Here: Pride and Belonging in African Art” has placed this work in the section called “Family”. Why do you think this is the case? What kind of “family” bonds existed among these soldiers in dangerous combat conditions, and what kind of family-like connections do the veterans seek, intentionally or otherwise, to recreate through acts of tragicomic storytelling, shared with the artist and with one another?

2. What do we learn about maleness and masculinity through this work? Is it significant that the overall shape of the draped parachute, receding inwards, has some similarities to the vagina and cervix, the passageway that links vaginal opening to the uterus, normally considered the seat of feminine identity? Is the artist perhaps suggesting that at the heart of the military combat ethos—conventionally considered the apex of heteronormative masculinity—is a longing for a feminine pole or for an emotional configuration that stands outside of a conventional gender binary?
3. How do you understand the paradoxes of play as evoked in the video? As children quickly learn, play is simultaneously “not real” yet deeply “real,” allowing for the indirect articulation of truths that may not be easily stated in conventional language. What deep truths about life and death, joy and suffering, masculinity and violence, are being implicitly voiced through the outrageous, even scatological play recounted in the veterans’ storytelling?
4. Can this installation be interpreted through the child psychoanalyst D.W. Winnicott’s concept of transitional objects and transitional phenomena? Winnicott notes that that moments of developmental crisis, such as weaning, a young child fixates upon comforting play objects, such as a pacifier or? blanket (“bankie”) that provides a secure imaginative bond between interior subjective experience and that objective or external reality. Is the former parachute here a kind of complex transitional object, that similarly moves the veteran between emotional and developmental states during his journey from military to civilian life, and perhaps also from painful mourning for fallen comrades towards a re-embracing of life in its fullest form?
5. What sensations do you have gazing into the tunnel or funnel shape of the draped former parachute, behind the harness, towards the open hole of the chute? Is the work perhaps moving us into a kind of theater or time tunnel, back into moments of danger and comradely joy, and perhaps also moving us between the realms of life and death?

Might there be parallels to the shape of a recessed niche-altar in a Christian church, in which objects of spiritual veneration are placed, or the mihrab, the semicircular niche in a Mosque, which directs the worshiper’s attention in prayer? in similar fashion, does the overall shape of this installation help to transport us from the here and now, towards other spaces and times, geographically or spiritually?

6. It would be interesting to compare this installation to one of the nation’s most important works of memorial sculpture, by the great US artist Auguste Saint-Gaudens, which bears the enigmatic title, The Mystery of the Hereafter and The Peace of God that Passeth Understanding, and which is sometimes simply called Grief. This work marks the grave in Rock Creek Cemetery (several miles north of the museum) of the photographer Marian ‘Clover’ Hooper Adams, who suffered from depression and took her own life in 1885. The work is in part modeled on Japanese depictions of the Buddhist bodhisattva Guan Yin or Kannon, the goddess of compassion, who aids the souls of the departed in passing through successive realms of creation in their quest for Buddhahood.
   https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Adams_Memorial_(Saint-Gaudens)

The Saint Gaudens sculpture, which is also displayed in replica in the nearby Smithsonian American Art Museum, depicts a shrouded figure that seems to evoke both mourning and the possibility of sanctuary for those who have died tragically.

Do you see any parallels to the shrouded shapes of Untethered/Retethered? Does this form similarly evoke both the suffering of great loss and the possibility of being enfolded within the peace of ultimate refuge?

7 . It would also be interesting to compare the work to important depictions of Christ’s crucifixion, including El Greco’s Christ on the Cross, c. 1600-1610 (Cleveland Museum of Art): https://www.clevelandart.org/art/1952.222

Such votive images were at times subject to religious contemplation, to help the worshiper situate themselves in relationship to the mystery of Christ’s death and resurrection and the promise of redemption. El Greco lavishes great care upon the martyred figure’s hands and feet: are there significant parallels with the ways in which artist Paul Emmanuel carefully depicts the hand and foot of his veteran subjects?

An intriguing figure in the history of the Mount Zion Union Band of Georgetown, is Mary Ann Marshall, c. 1827-1894. who never married and who resided in Georgetown throughout her life.

She is listed in Freedman’s Bank records, under a Mount Zion Union Daughters’ Freedmen’s Bank Draft, dated July 3, 1867: ”Draft signed by the President and Secretary of the Society, will always be payable at the bank.” Mrs. Eliza Dorsey, President; Mrs. Georgeanna Brown, Secretary; Mrs. Julie Dent, Treasurer; Miss Mary Ann Marshall; Miss Eliza Batesen; Mrs. Harriet Rhodes.

What can be reconstructed of Mary Ann’s life in Georgetown?

The first reference I know to her is in the Compensated Emancipation record of the prominent Georgetown physician Dr. Joshua Riley, 23 May 1863. He reports her age as about 35, so presumably she was born around 1827. He notes “that at the time of said discharge said was of the age of Thirty five, as well as can be ascertained and of the personal description following:(1) five ft six inches in height, well proportioned, & perfectly healthy & sound, skin black lower lip rather prominent & somewhat pendulous check bones prominent. Teethe good. That your petitioner acquired his claim to the aforesaid service or labor of said Mary Ann Marshall in manner following:(2) purchased of Doct . H. Magruder in March 1851 for the Sum of Five Hundred 500 Dollars cash. That for said servant her master had been offered the sum of Eight Hundred 800$ by a trader. rather, than separate a family, he was willing to part with her for the sum named. There was no bill of sale”


Mary Ann’s enslaver (and later employer) Dr. Joshua Riley, born 19 Jan 1800 City of Baltimore, Maryland, Death 11 Feb 1875 (aged 75) Georgetown, District of Columbia and also buried in Oak Hill Cemetery) was one of DC’s most prominent physicians. He is reported in his obituary to have treated the poor of the city without payment.

He resided at 91 Gay Street, later known as 3088 N Street, NW which also housed his medical practice. The house was demolished at some point after 1913.

The “Dr. H Magruder” who had sold Mary Ann in 1851 must have been Dr. Hezekiah Magruder (b 25 May 1804 in Montgomery County, Maryland, USA, Died 20 Jul 1874 (aged 70) in Georgetown and buried in Oak Hill Cemetery

The 1850 Slave Schedules has two different entries for Hezekiah Margruder in NW Georgetown, with 5 and 2 slave respectively. In the second listing, the 26 old black woman slave is presumably Mary Ann Marshall, the year before her sale.

Mary’ Ann’s Immediate Family.

In his compensation petition for Mary Ann Marshall, Joshua Riley claims that Hezekiah Magruder sold Mary Ann to him in 1851 for only $500, so that she could remain close to her family. Who were these family members?

The 1850 census records a free Black young woman, Cynthia Marshall, age 16, residing as a domestic servant in the home of Dr. Hezekiah Magruder. Perhaps she is a younger sister of Mary Ann.

Twelve years later, the 1862 emancipation records record an Isaac Marshall, age 50, and Emily Marshall, age 35, both enslaved by Dr. Hezekiah Magruder. Presumably, these three individuals, perhaps Mary Ann’s father and sisters (one free, one enslaved) were the family members whom Dr. Magruder did not want to separate Mary Ann from. Thus, he sold her to his neighbor and fellow medical practitioner Dr. Riley, where she remained close by her immediate kin.

After Emancipation

What became of Mary Ann after emancipation? The 1867 bank record noted above implies that she must have been an active member of the Mt Zion Daughter’s Union (also known as the Mt Zion Union Band Society). She presumably worshiped at Mt Zion Methodist throughout her life; as noted below, her funeral service was conducted by the Mt Zion pastor.

The 1870 census, enumerated eight years after DC Emancipation, has Mary Ann Marshall, b 1830, in Georgetown, still residing as a house servant, in the household of her former enslaver Dr. Joshua Riley and his wife Juliet Riley.

The 1876 city directory list Mary Ann Marshall as a servant, still at at 91 Gay St, Georgetown (now “N” street), in the household of Juliet Riley (1803-1883), the widow of her late enslaver and employer Dr. Joshua Riley who had died a year earlier.

The 1880 census again has Mary Ann Marshall as a servant of Juliet Riley on Gay Street

After the death in 1893 of Juliet Riley, Joshua Riley’s widow. Mary Ann Marshall remained in this household (according to the 1888 and the 1893 city directories) up until her death. She appears to have been employed by Mary Anna Riley, spinster daughter of Dr Joshua and Juliet Riley, who resided at 3088 N St until her death in 1913.

Mary Ann Marshall received an unusually detailed obituary in the Evening Star, on Tuesday, July 24, 1894:

Mary Marshall Dead. The funeral of Mary Ann Marshall, one of the oldest colored folks of Georgetown, who for nearly fifty years was a faithful domestic in the family of the late Dr. Joshua Riley, took place yestereay from the Riley home, 3088 N Street. She was a women of the old school of servants;faithful to all trusts and respected by all for her integrity She came from one of the first colored families of this sedtion. She was never married. Her disposition was a retiring one, yet all who visited the Riley home were firends of Martha.

She had reached an advanced age

Those who acted as pall bearers were Henry Bowles, Caleb Hawk, Tho Williams, and Chas Smith. The services were held at the house, where deceased had spent the greater part of her life. There were conducted by the Rev W.A. Carroll, pastor of Mt Zion Church.

Mary Ann Marshall’s DC death certificate records her burial in Mt Zion Cemetery on 22 July 1894.

Mary Ann’s Immediate Family

Issac Marshall, Mary Ann’s likely father, is enumerated in the 1870 census as a common laborer residing in Georgetown, age 65, residing next door to John Marshall, 45, a porter, his wife Mary and son Nace, a domestic servant, who are likely all kin to Isaac. Perhaps John was Isaac’s son and Mary Ann’s brother.

City directories show Isaac Marshall continuing to live in Georgetown, at 1513 33rd Street, until his death on March 8, 1899.

His Evening Star obituary reads:

Isaac Marshall died at his residence at his residence on 32nd street Wednesday, night, at the advanced age of ninety-six years. The deceasd had resided in Georgetown the greater part of his life. The funeral will take place tomorrow afternon from Plymouth Church, corner of 17th and P street, Columbia Lodg, no 1376, G.U.) of O.F, of which he as a member, will attended in a body. The interment will be at Mount Zion Cemetery

His niece “Martha” placed a memorial notice in the Star on March 11, 1899. His death certificate indicates he was buried at Mt Zion on March 12, 1899.

Note that there is another Isaac Marshall in the 1870 census residing in Washington Ward 4, who must be a different person, married to a Chloe. The Freedman’s Bureau records indicate, retroactively, that this Isaac Marshall married Chloe Scott around 1820 by a Rev. Wright in Montgomery County, Maryland. He may be the same Isaac Marshall who escaped from Thomas Claggett, 8 September 1840. (Chloe Scott Marshall was enslaved by Samuel Anderson, who claimed compensation for her emancipation in 1862). I do not know if the two Isaac Marshalls are related.

I have not as of this writing been able to trace Emily Marshall or Cynthia Marshall, who may have been Mary Ann’s sisters.

Possible Extended Kin to Mary Ann Marshall

Mary Ann’s obituary statees she came from one of the oldest Black families in DC
The 1850 census lists about 27 Black free individuals in DC with the surname Marshall. Of these seven resided in Georgetown:

—Cynthia Marshall, age 16, who is as noted above, servant in the household of Hezekiah Marshall, and possible sister of Mary Ann Marshall
–Susannah Marshall, age 13, born in Georgetown, working in the household of Ignatius Clark, grocer
—W Marshall, a 29 year old man, born in Massachusettes, with four minors (M Marshall, 16, M Marshall, 13, W Marshall 12, A Marshall 6).

In 1862, in addition to Mary Ann, Issac and, six other enslaved people with the surname Marshall were emancipated in DC:

–Chloe Marshall, enslaved by Samuel B Anderson; as noted above she had been married for our four decades to a different Isaac Marshall; Richard Marshall, enslaved by Sarah Forrest,
—Martha Marshall and Ellen Marshall, enslaved by Christiana Larner and Arian Tweedy
—Julian Marshall, enslaved by Thomas A Richards
—Josephine Marshall, enslaved by Jonathan Learn

Perhaps some of these free and enslaved Marshalls were kin to Mary Ann, Issac, and Emily Marshall.

Gathering to Remember Alan Saks

February 9, 2026 at 11:00 am

Riverside Memorial Chapel, W 76th and Amsterdam, New York, NY.

Eulogy for my Uncle Alan Saks
Mark Auslander
February 9, 2026

Good morning. Welcome to our Remembrance of Alan Joseph Saks. Thank you for all for coming through the cold and ice this morning to honor Alan’s life and legacies, and for joining together as we express our love and sympathy for Judy and for Eva.

I’m Mark Auslander, Alan and Judy’s nephew, and first cousin of their daughter Eva. Judy and Eva have asked me to officiate here this morning.

Alan was born January 9, 1933 in Manhattan to Arthur Saks and Helen (Herman) Saks. He attended Queens College and received his JD from Cornell University Law School in 1956. After entering the bar in New York State in 1957, he practiced law with the New York State Division of Human Rights. Beginning in 1981 he served as a judge for the Civil Court of the City of New York. In 1988, he joined the Bronx County Supreme Court in the 12th Judicial District of New York.

He was known during his judicial tenure for his commitment to conflict resolution and arbitration, and for witty and compassionate turns of phrase. After retiring from the bench in 2009, he continued to to serve the people of the Bronx by working as a mediator. A member of the Reform Democratic Club of the Bronx, he worked closely with Oliver Koppell, whom we will hear from in a moment.

Alan married Irene Judith “Judy” (Auslander) in 1956. The couple bought into the Amalgamated Housing Cooperative in 1957, and were among the Amalgamated’s longest-running residents or “cooperators”. There they raised their two daughters Eva and Nina, worked together on the campaigns of many progressive political candidates in the Bronx, and had a great circle of friends. They were summer residents of Stephentown, NY, where Alan famously raised generations of home-grown tomatoes, which each spring he would start from seedlings from their terrace in the Bronx.

My sister Bonnie and I have wonderful, vivid memories of Alan, which date to early childhood. We remember, at times of difficulty and crisis, Uncle Alan’s profound decency, compassion, and integrity. My late father Joe, an early political comrade of Alan’s, greatly admired his deep knowledge of American history and his incisive political and legal analyses across their seven decades of friendship. My late mother Ruth absolutely adored Alan, whom she referred to as a ‘true blue” and the epitome of a Mensch. (They also loved eating seafood together.) She often remarked that the arc of American history would have been immeasurably better if only Alan, the most judicious person she knew, were on the US Supreme Court! (Truer words…)

As we mourn Alan, we remember other dear ones who are no longer with us, among them: his father Arthur Saks (1961), his mother Helen (Herman) Saks (1990), brother Eugene David Saks (2001) and Eugene’s wife Pearl, who spent much of their adult lives in France.

Most poignantly, we miss their daughter Nina Saks, who died too young while she was a student at Columbia. Her death was the great sorrow of Alan’s life. A vibrant and insightful young person, she brought enormous joy into our extended family from the moment she was adopted and became Eva’s beloved younger sister and our dear cousin.

It seemed to us that from the unimaginable pain of Nina’s death, Alan drew even deeper resolution to serve others. He finally decided to put himself forward for higher judicial office in the Bronx County Supreme Court. We remember visiting him in his chambers and being struck how committed he and his fellow judges were to the cause of social betterment in the Bronx, especially safeguarding affordable housing stock, consistent with his deep belief that good housing was a fundamental human right.

As a deep believer in the value of mercy in the courtroom and beyond, Alan, more than anyone I have ever known, exemplified Shakespeare’s admonition, voiced by Tamora, in Titus Andronicus (Act 1, Scene 1), which you will find printed on the program:

Wilt thou draw near the nature of the gods?
Draw near them then in being merciful:
Sweet mercy is nobility’s true badge.

Throughout his life of service, Alan did indeed wear nobility’s true badge

Yet what so many of us will remember about Alan was his passion for baseball and the great joy he and Judy took across the decades in watching the game together. Allow me, as we fondly think on Alan, to quote the opening and closing of Bart Giametti’s baseball essay “The Green Fields of the Mind.”

“It breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone. You count on it, rely on it to buffer the passage of time, to keep the memory of sunshine and high skies alive, and then just when the days are all twilight, when you need it most, it stops. Today,,, a Sunday of rain and broken branches and leaf-clogged drains and slick streets, it stopped, and summer was gone…Of course, there are those who learn after the first few times. They grow out of sports. And there are others who were born with the wisdom to know that nothing lasts. These are the truly tough among us, the ones who can live without illusion, or without even the hope of illusion. I am not that grown-up or up-to-date. I am a simpler creature, tied to more primitive patterns and cycles. I need to think something lasts forever, and it might as well be that state of being that is a game; it might as well be that, in a green field, in the sun.”

Thank you

A Tribute to My Father 

by Eva Saks (read aloud by Eva’s cousin, Bonnie Auslander)

My father, Alan Saks, was better-looking than Paul Newman and a better singer than Bing Crosby. He loved Chinese food, baseball, his family, and justice.

Of course, justice had its own demands. On one memorable road trip, when I was about eight, I finally talked my parents OUT of staying in some “charming one-of-a-kind country inn,” and INTO staying in my idea of heaven: Howard Johnson’s. A chain where they’re all the same! The real America! Going into the dining room there for breakfast, I will never forget my delight at the plastic menu with photos of food, the uniformity, the conformity….I was blissfully eating mass-produced blueberry pancakes when suddenly my dad noticed something on the menu and got very quiet. He called the waitress over, and very politely asked her, “Do you know that Howard Johnson’s has locations in South Africa? Where they have apartheid?” I realized instantly that I better eat my pancakes fast, as we would be leaving Howard Johnson’s VERY soon. And so we did. Bravo, Dad.

Dad was a proud public servant. Before becoming a judge, he worked as a Civil Rights lawyer at the New York State Division on Human Rights. (As a matter of fact, he hired the first woman law clerk there. He also won the anti-discrimination case for the first female umpire in the Major League.) He believed in the power of the law to do good. He also enjoyed that his office was right near Chinatown, and tried just about every restaurant there.

Dad was never naive, but nonetheless he remained an idealist. Again, I confess, it took me a while to appreciate his idealism: Throughout my childhood, I begged him to stop being a Civil Rights lawyer and go into private practice, so I could get a pony. Fortunately, he ignored these entreaties. 

I finally realized how lucky I was when I went to visit him at work at the New York State Division on Human Rights, when I was in high school. I was sitting reading at a long table covered with law books and person after person kept coming up to take me aside and tell me how my dad had saved them when they were in need: “Your father was there for me when I lost my mother” “Your father helped me when I went bankrupt” “Your father helped me get a student loan.” Honestly, it was like something out of IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE. Dad made the world better.

Dad was a hero to me in other ways, too. I will always treasure the memory of Father’s Day at the middle school I went to, Fieldston, because on that day, fathers came to gym class and participated in an outdoor game of kickball. (Kickball is basically the same as baseball, except instead of batting a baseball, you kick a watermelon-sized rubber ball.) I remember my anxiety as dad waited his turn. Some fathers missed the ball altogether. “You’re OUT!” Some fathers kicked it so high it was easily caught. “You’re OUT!” Another father kicked a triple and got to third base. Oy – who could compete with that? Then it was dad’s turn. Would he lose the game for our team? Dad was cool as a cucumber. He concentrated and he kicked…I waited…and the ball went over the field…over the wall of the school grounds… and across the street into a distant park. “HOME RUN!” Not only did this end the tension, it ended the game altogether, as no one could even FIND the ball. Dad was the hero of the day, actually a superhero.

Did you know my father loved birds? And botany? He even took a night course in botany when I was very little. Perhaps this botany course contributed to his later evolution into Farmer Saks: It turned out this New York City kid had a Green Thumb, especially with tomatoes. He grew copious tomatoes, both at our country house in Stephentown and on the balcony of our Bronx apartment.

Again, initially I was slow to appreciate this gift. In fact, when my parents showed up to visit me when I was a student in law school, they arrived bearing a HUGE basket of home-grown tomatoes. In the main hallway of Yale Law School. I was honestly a little embarrassed. But then a CROWD of my hungry classmates gathered round clamoring to get some. Another life lesson from dad: Home-grown tomatoes were cool! Dad made me the most popular girl at law school that day. Thank you, dad!

Dad loved to sing and we all loved singing together around the kitchen table. And Dad knew just about every song ever written  (up to 1960). Like his mom Helen, he was an expert in Vaudeville and Tin Pan Alley tunes. My dear friend Sam Austin, a professional piano bar player, said my dad was the only person who ever stumped him with a song request. For the record, Dad’s favorite songs included “Pennies from Heaven,” Paul Robeson singing “Ballad for Americans,” and “Pale Hands I Loved, Beside the Shalimar.” That last one might be the song that stumped my friend Sam. 

Dad was also a great connoisseur of old movies. He enjoyed a wide variety of them, but he never lost his RIGOR.  Two months ago, we were on the phone and we were both watching Turner Classic Movies. He was watching DOUBLE INDEMNITY and I mentioned I was watching MR. BLANDINGS BUILDS HIS DREAM HOUSE. He considered this — really, took it under advisement — and replied, “That’s a fun movie, but DOUBLE INDEMNITY is better.”  Quite right. My dad was dedicated to judicious precision – to what Wallace Stevens called “the romance of the precise.”

Of course the movie that we all associated with my dad the most was TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD. After my college friend Jeff Nunokawa met my father, Jeff told me that my dad reminded him of Atticus Finch. Thereafter whenever my dad’s name came up, Jeff would always murmur a line from the film “Stand up, Scout. Your father’s passing.” This is what the townspeople said to Atticus’s seated daughter, as Atticus was leaving the courtroom after a day of defending the unjustly accused Tom Robinson. It was the ultimate act of respect from people watching a lawyer fight for justice: “Stand up, Scout. Your father’s passing.”  

It is hard not to reflect that we are losing my father at a time when we can ill afford to lose someone who so loved justice. 

The great loss of my father’s life – as for my mother and me – was the death of my sister Nina at 19. Dad once told mom and me, “I wouldn’t mind dying if I could see her again.”  Here’s hoping.

The great joy of his life was my mother. They shared a passion for baseball, but it must be disclosed that mom supports the Mets while dad favored the Yankees. Mom would laugh at this conflict and point out that “A house divided against itself cannot stand.” But stand they did. A vivid memory of their bond: When I was in junior high school, I remember asking my parents at the dinner table, what was MADAME BOVARY about? Little did I realize what I had started. They both began telling me the story, taking turns with plot turns, and the next thing I knew, they were both crying over Emma Bovary’s fate. Their emotional relationship to literature, not to mention each other, was poignant and indelible.

When I last saw dad, he looked less like Paul Newman but still sang better than Bing Crosby. We all spent a lot of time singing around the kitchen table! Dad and mom showed off a recently unearthed duet from vaudevillians Gallagher and Sheen, as well as the 1919 classic “Snoops the Lawyer,” by Bert Kalmar & Harry Ruby. 

Dad turned 93 a week before he died. He and mom had Chinese food. Mom tells me he loved the blue pajamas I sent him for his birthday. I also sent him a plaque that said NUMBER ONE DAD. He died holding my mom’s hand.

And there you have it.

Please eat a tomato in his memory. And go to a protest.

“Stand up, Scout. Your father’s passing.”

A Memory of Alan Saks by Ellen Schattschneider (niece)

One of my favorite passages about gardens is the poem by E.B White, “To My American Gardener, With Love” (1930):

Before the seed there comes the thought of bloom,
The seedbed is the restless mind itself.
Not sun, not soil alone can bring to border
This rush of beauty and this sense of order.
Flowers respond to something in the gardener’s face —
Some secret in the heart, some special grace.

Remembering Alan contentedly working in his Stephentown garden with supreme concentration, calls to mind that remarkable poem. Alan’s face radiated pleasure, as he pulled weeds and tied up tomato plants. lost in his garden world. The warmth of his bright red tomatoes, carefully transported as seedlings from the Bronx to the rear plot on Goodrich Hollow Road, were testament, I always felt, to some secret in Alan’s generous, bountiful heart. Gathered around Judy’s table, feasting on those tomatoes, we were indeed nourished by his “special grace.”

I am also reminded of the heroine Mary’s discovery of the mysterious garden in Frances Hodgson Burnett’s novel, The Secret Garden: “She was inside the wonderful garden and she could come through the door under the ivy any time, and she felt as if she found a world all her own.”

Walking out the back door of the house on Goodrich Hollow, which led to vegetable garden, I always felt that I was entering into Alan’s dappled summertime world, from which tiny miracles sprang forth all season long.

So, thank you Alan for our memories of that abundant sanctuary and those luscious tomatoes– from your very own “secret garden”.

---

_____

A Poem of Remembrance (read by Judy Saks)

A Meaning

By António Osório

Because there is a meaning
in the lily, let there be worship;
and in the poplar, let there be height;
and in the arborescent heather,
let there be growth;
and in the copper, first treatment
I give to the vine, let there be harvest.

And another meaning, I predict,
there is in memory,
so let there be outburst.
And another, immeasurable,
in love, so let there be surrender.
And another, definitive,
in death, let there be release.

—António Osório (1933-2021) (Translated, from the Portuguese, by Patricio Ferrari and Susan M. Brown.)

—Note: also at the Remembrance ceremony, the poem “One Art” by Elizabeth Bishop was read aloud by Nancy Gair: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47536/one-art

Overview Remembrance: Hon. Alan J Saks (retired) died peacefully in Bronx, NY on January 16, 2026 at age 93, following a brief illness. Born January 9, 1933 in Queens NY to Arthur (Sklarsky) Saks (a surplus goods merchant) and Helen D (Herman) Saks, he attended Queens College and received his JD from Cornell University Law School. He entered the bar in New York State in 1957 and the same year moved to Bronx, NY, where he resided with his wife Irene (“Judy”) for the rest of his life. He practiced law with the New York State Division on Human Rights, and beginning in 1981 served as a judge for the Civil Court of the City of New York. In 1988, he joined the Bronx County Supreme Court in the 12th Judicial District of New York. He was known during his judicial tenure for his deep commitment to mediation and arbitration, and for witty and compassionate turns of phrase. He retired from the bench in 2009. After retirement he continued to serve the Bronx community as a mediator for several years. He also served on Community Board 8 and was a Democratic district leader. He was a lifelong progressive and member of the Reform Democratic Club of the Bronx.

Alan married his wife of seven decades, Irene Judith “Judy” (Auslander) Saks in 1956, after they met at the Tanglewood Festival House, where he was working during the summer as a waiter while a law student. (He had previously worked with Judy’s brother Joe in the anti-fascist organization American Youth for Democracy at Queens College.) The couple bought into the Amalgamated Housing Cooperative, adjacent to Bronx’s Van Cortlandt Park in 1957, and were ranked among the Amalgamated’s longest-running cooperators. There they raised their two daughters Eva and Nina, worked together on the campaigns of many progressive political candidates in the Bronx, and had a great circle of friends. They were summer residents of Stephentown, NY, a community the family dearly loved, living close by Judy’s beloved cousin Alice (Shapiro) Swersey and her husband Burt.

Alan was a prodigious consumer of political news and, with Judy, an avid baseball fan. He and Judy adored old movies, including The Great McGinty (1940), Casablanca (1942), Watch on the Rhine (1943) and The Apartment (1960), the latter about the struggle to resist the corporate ladder and become a “Mensch” on the eve of the 1960s.

Alan, along with Judy, took great pride in the varied accomplishments of their daughter Eva Saks, as a theater director, film director, casting director, entertainment attorney, and most recently, as an animal advocate and director of Sheltie Rescue Alternative, Inc, a 501(c)3 charity (dog rescue) for seniors/special needs dogs, mostly Shelties. Alan deeply loved and mourned his gifted daughter Nina, who passed much too soon when she was a student at Columbia University.

Alan was preceded in death by his father Arthur Saks (1961), his mother Helen (Herman) Saks (1990), brother Eugene David Saks (2001), and daughter Nina Saks (1989). He is survived by his wife Judy of the Bronx, daughter Eva of Los Angeles, California, niece Bonnie Auslander of Lyons, Colorado, nephew Mark Auslander of Washington DC, great-niece Nina Auslander-Padgham, great-nephew Milo Glover, and many cousins.

Friends and family are invited to give donations in Alan’s memory to Amnesty International USA; the United Farm Workers Foundation (which currently works to prevent family separations); or, for animal lovers,Sheltie Rescue Alternative of Los Angeles (Van Nuys), California.

Alan converses from the Bench with canine Counselor for the Defense, as the jury looks on.

”

Memories of Alan by Family and Friends

Ellen Schattschneider (niece through marriage; married to Mark Auslander, Alan and Judy’s nephew ): From the time I came into the family, I was dazzled by Alan’s astonishing command of history, world affairs, and innumerable other domains of inquiry. Alan had the remarkable gift of sharing his encyclopedic command of human knowledge without ever making the other person feel in the least diminished; he always managed to make conversations on politics, film, sports, or music feel like shared explorations and never like didactic lectures, always suffused with playfulness and curiosity.

As a fellow gardener, I particularly loved watching him nurture his tomatoes from seedlings on the Amalagamated terrace to robust maturity in Stephentown, a significant accomplishment given the fickleness of these varietals! And what joy conversing to him about baseball, especially the complicated history of the New York teams: Alan was a Yankees fan, Judy a Met’s fan, and my Dad a Giants fan, so we had all possible Subway Series pretty well covered (and after the Giants’ moved to San Francisco, we had cross-continental travel covered too!)

Finally, I was always honored when he told me I resembled his beautiful mother Helen, a kind and generous compliment that made me feel welcome into the family from the very first day!

Barbara Meeker (Sister in law): My late husband Joe Auslander (Judy’s sister and Alan’s brother-in-law) was very proud of having known Alan before Judy met him; Joe always thought it was one of his own life accomplishments to have introduced Alan to the family.

Second, I want to acknowledge Alan’s loving and steady care for his mother Helen over many years.

Daniel Shaviro (cousin):  Because Alan was a judge, he performed Pat’s and my wedding ceremony on September 11, 1988. He wanted to get to know Pat before performing the ceremony, and was lovely and kind throughout. We were very glad to be able to do this in the family, and with someone I knew and liked, especially given that we did not want a religious ceremony of any kind. (And we didn’t know any other judges, not to mention ship captains.)

My mom (Frieda Shaviro) would always tell me that we “owed” him for doing this, which I thought a bit over-scrupulous as he seemed to take genuine pleasure in it. 

I always enjoyed meeting him at family functions thereafter (as well as before), as he was always good-humored and fun to talk with.

Lucy Kerman (cousin):  I have lovely memories of Alan, especially from my college years, when I would visit my Uncle Sol and Aunt Frieda in the Amalgamated.  He was such a warm, funny, welcoming man!  

The 1749 will of Richard Bennett III (Bennett’s Point, Queen Anne’s County, Maryland) allocates at least 36 enslaved people to Bennett’s cousin John Rousby, who also inherits the land of Bennett’s Point and southern Morgan’s Neck where Bennett had resided since around 1700. As I have discussed elsewhere, the named enslaved individuals bequeathed to Rousby were:

“To said cousin John Rousby, these negroes: Isaac & his wife, Little Kate, & their chldn; Molatto Tom & his wife, Sue, & their chldn; Jacob Gardner & his wife, Sarah, & their chldn; Old 1y, Lame Joe; Jorey the taylor & his wife & chldn.; Jack Gooby that attends in the house; Antigua George & his wife Kate Webb & their chldn.; Trippling & his wife & chldn.; the woman Maudling & her chldn.; the woman Mariah & her chldn. Jack & Will; also all the livestock & crops on the plntn. where I dw. & the wading place plntn.”

These individuals are likely to have remained on the local land, at least for some period of time, perhaps up until 1760, when the manor house burned. Among these 36 or more people, three couples are identified with a surname: “Antigua George and his wife Kate Webb,” “Jack Gooby that attends the house”, and “Jacob Gardner and his wife Sarah Gardner”. I have previously posted on Jack Gooby. What can we infer about the lives and possible descendants of Jacob and Sarah Gardner and Antigua George and Kate Webb?

1, Jacob and Sarah Gardner

Neither Jacob nor Sarah Gardner appear in the 1753 probate inventory of Bennett’s heir John Rousby, so they may have been sold or transferred elsewhere, or died in the interim. I have no seen subsequent reference ot them in local probate records or other documents.

Possible kin:

I have not seen references in 18th century records to ensalved Gardners on the Eastern Shore. Father Mosley, SJ diary, recording sacremental practices such as baptism, which mentions enslaved Thomas Gooby, does not mention any any Gardeners.

Free and enslaved Gardners mentioned 19th century records include:

—Maria Gardner, free Black woman, born around 1830, with her two year old son William Gardner, emplyed in the household of saddler John Ferguson in District 3, Centreville, Queen Anne’s County, in the 1860 census. 

—Henry Gardner, evidently runaway, seemingly owned by a “Maxwell,: Queen Anne’s Co., Md. was released to W. H. Wilmer 30 May 1833. August 1847 advertisements records the escape of Ann Gardner, owned by Louis Maceron near the Navy Yard in Washington D.C.

—-Warner Gardner, freeman, born around 1804 in Caroline County, to the immediate east of Queen Anne’s County.

—William Henry Gardner of Anne Arundel County, across the bay from Queen Anne’s, was born free, according to an 1855 freedom certificate

In November 1864, under the new state constitution, the following seven individuals were emancipated (with compensation claims filed by their owners in 1867):

—Leathen Gardner and Wash Gardner, owned by Wm F Anderson, Anne Arundel County

—Lucy Gardner, Wesley Gardner, Sarah Gardner, Perry Gardner, Robert Gardner, owned by Ben O’Mulliken, , Anne Arundel County,

A possible Descendant: Jacob Gardner, 1845-1895

Jacob and Sarah from Bennett’s Point seem likely to be related to Jacob Gardner, 1845-1895, born in Caroline county, residing then on Kent Island,, who enlisted 24 March 1864 in Queen Anne’s County in the United States Colored Infantry 39th regiment, Company D. His military records indicate that he was a slave when he enlisted, although I am not sure whom his enslaver was.

He was hospitalized in North Carolina it appeared with an infectious disease and returned to duty on August 2, 1865. He lists as his closest relative on Kent Island, Queen Anne’s County a Charlotte Wright. (This may be the Charlotte Wright, age 35, who resided on Broad Creek in the 1870 census: so perhaps Jacob’s sister). He mustered out, December 4, 1865 in Wilmington NC.

By 1870, Jacob was residing in Washington DC, on N street near 1st street SE. He married wife Julia. He applied for a pension on 12 July 1890. He worked at the Washington Navy Yard and died 1 June 1895 at home in southeast DC of heat-induced heart trouble, and was buried at Arlington National Cemetery.

There are other enslaved Gardners documented in the area; eg William Gardner, escaped from Dr. Jarrett Snowden of Anne Arundel Co; Warner Gardner, freeborn in Caroline Co in 1804, etc. And I see in November 1864, enslaver Ben O’Mulkin manumitted five slaves with the surname Gardner, including a Sarah Gardner, in Anne Arundel County, MD. I do not know if any of these are related to the Jacob and Sarah Gardner of Bennett’s Point (1749

II. Antigua George and Kate Webb

Antigua George and his wife Kate Webb and their children, as noted , were bequeathed in 1749 to Richard Bennett’s cousin, John Rousby. Rousby died three years later of a “violent fever,” and his probate inventory mentioned the same Antingua George and Kate Webb. “Negro woman named Kate Webb, 24 years old at 35 pounds”

John Roubsy’s property passed to his widow Anne Frisby Rousby (after she sued to break her late husband’s will, claiming he was not of sound mind before his death, and thus secured Rousby Hall for herself). Within two years or so, Anne Rousby married, under coercion, Colonel William Fitzhugh, who acquired her property. (In a strange twist, Fitzhugh had convinced a nursemaid to bring Anne’s infant girl Elizabeth to him c 1752 and threatened to drown her in the Patuxent River unless Anne’s consented to marry him. Elizabeth later married George Plater, Maryland governor)

Then in April 1767, Matthew Bryan of Wye River (an agent of William Fitzhugh) placed advertisements in the Maryland Gazette for runaway Antigua George, between 50 to 60 years old, stating he had escaped multiple times, and been recaptured in Talbot County and then escaped yet again:

“Wye River, February 21, 1767. Ran away about a Year ago, a Negro Man, goes by the same of Antigua George, was born in Antigua, talks good English, is betwixt 50 and 60 years old, about 5 feet feet five inches hight, grey headed, and bends much in the legs when he walks, Had ona cotton Jacket and breeches, County made shoes and stockings and Osnabrigs Shirt. He has since been taken up twicen Talbot and made his escape and imagine he passes for a free Negro.“

Whoever talks up the said Negro, if in Talbot shall have Twenty Shillings reward, if brought home; if any farther distance, four dollars reqards and reasonable charges, if brought home, paid by the subscriber living at Wye River. Mathew Bryan” (Maryland Gazette Annapolis, Maryland · Thursday, April 16, 1767, p. 4)

I do not know if Antigua George made good his escape this time around, or if his wife Kate Webb was still alive at this point.

Cate, Possible Daughter of Antigua George and Kate Webb

The 1751 inventory for John Rousby, lists at a different location (perhaps Rousby Hall, Calvert County) an infant Cate, girl who may be the daughter of Kate Webb: “Negro girl named Cate, 2 years old at 10 pounds” (b. 1749)

Thirty years later, in 1781, most of the enslaved people owned by William Fitzhugh at Rousby Hall, Calvert County, made their escape on a British vessel. I am not sure if any of these individuals subseqeuently made their way to Nova Scotia or other British territory.

As noted above, the slaves and land passed from John Rousby to his widow Ann Frisby Rousby, and then to her second husband, Colonel William Fitzhugh. It would appear that the same infant Cate, born about 1749, appears later in the 1798 inventory of Col. William Fitzhugh in The Hive, Hagerstown, Washington County MD as enslaved “Cate, age 49”, so born 1749, which would match with the infant Cate.

In the 1798, inventory Cate, age 49. is listed in the same family grouping as Tom, age 50 (likely husband) and Jack, 18, Nacy, 23, Fanny, 21 (possibly, Cate’s children) and then Henry 3, Rebecca 1 (possibly Fanny’s children?)

The suspected marital relationship between Cate and Tom is confirmed in Colonel Fitzhugh’s 1798 will: ” I give and bequeath unto my son William (Frisby) Fitzhugh to him and his heirs forever the following slaves and their increase, Sucky, Charles, Betty, Maryann, Sucray?, Toby, Fanny, Black Bett, Carpenter James, Mulatto Rose, Mill James and Agnes his wife, Ned, Tom and Cate his wife. “

I do not know what happened to these enslaved people. The younger Col William Frisby Fitzhugh in 1800 held 76 slaves in Washington Co, Maryland but then movd eventually to western New York state and beccameone of the fonuders of Rochester. The 1830 census in Livingstone County, NY, show Wililam Fitzhugh with 5 free persons of color but no slaves.

Possible kin of Antigua George and Kate Webb:

The 1860 census lists about 95 Free Black people in Maryland with the surname Webb.

—The extensive family of the freeborn James Webb, b 1820, of Caroline County.. The cabin of James Webb was restored and still stands; he has many documented descendants in Caroline County and Pennsylvania. Among these was his son, the school teacher John R Webb of Caroline County. A kinswoman may be the free born woman Delia Ann Webb, born about 1832, who was granted a freedom certificate in 1847 inCaroline County.

Enslaved Webbs include:

On 26 August 1825, James Webb, runaway from Thomas Rinngold of Kent Island, Queen Anne’s County, was jailed in Easton, Talbot County. Three years later, on 17 May 1828, a Jim Webb (yellow mulatto) perhaps the same person, escaped from the same enslaver Thomas Rinngold.

I would be grateful for assistance in further tracing Jacob and Sarah Gardener, Antigua George and Kate Webb, and their descendants.

As we continue to trace persons enslaved by Richard Bennett III of Bennett’s Point, Queen Anne’s County, on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, I have been intrigued by the case of “Dick,” the only enslaved person whom Bennett manumitted in his September 1749 will. As I have previously noted, Bennett devotes a paragraph to this manumission and to gifting Dick his carpentry tools and apparel:

“Item, I do give my Negro man Dick the carpenter his freedom and hereby manumit and set free and at full iiberty my said Negro man Dick, and do him hm all the chest of tools and other tools of every sort which he usually works with, and do also order my executor to give the said Negro Dick one suite of Cloathes made of narrow cloth of shilligngs stocking of hard, two shirts of Irish linen of one shilling and five p? of yard and two shirts of spring ozenbuggs? line, one part of good shoess and one part worsted stockings. one castor hatt and two Romal hankerchiefs. ” (p. 476)

It seems likely that Dick is the same person referenced sixteen years earlier in Criminal Court proceedings in adjacent Kent County, as having been improperly married to a white woman, Amy Nabb, a “spinster,” without due authorization. The court in its August 1734 session sanctions neither Dick nor Amy, but rather the Anglican Rector of Shrewsbury Parish, Rev. Richard Sewell, who one year earlier (22 July 1733) had performed the wedding ceremony:

“Richard Sewell of Shrewsbury parish [on the] twenty second day of July at the parish afd [aforesaid] in the County afd within the same Jurisdicion did joyn Negro Dick the proper slave of Richard Bennett Esq.r and Amy Nabb of the same parish and CountySpinster then within the same parish residing in Marriage without any publick cation according to the rubrick of the Church of
England of their intent to Marry at any Church or Chappel..”

Rev. Sewell acknowledged the charges against him, and the Court fined him as follows:

The afd (aforesaid) Richard Sewell be find [fined] the sum
of five thousand pounds of Tobacco Debt according to Act of
Assembly in such case made and provided as a fine for
joyning the afd Negro Dick and Amy Nabb in Marriage
Contrary to the Act of Assembly thereof in such case made
in form afd confest and also pay the sum of two hundred
and ninety eight pounds of Tobacco costs accruing on the
premisses afd to the officers of this Court &c” (Source: Archives of Maryland. Vol 567, pp, 551-52. Kent County Criminal Court Records, 1728-1734
https://msa.maryland.gov/megafile/msa/speccol/sc2900/sc2908/000001/000567/html/am567–552.html

The first church in Shrewesbury Parish, one of the oldest Anglcian parishes in the Province of Maryland, was constructed around 1693 at the head of Turner’s Creek, and rebuilt in brick in 1729. The parish had initially been within the bounds of Cecil County, but is now located in Kennedysville, in northern Kent County, about 45 miles north of Bennett’s Point, the principal residence of Richard Bennett III after his marriage to Elizabeth Rousby.

In 1697, Rev Richard Sewell was appointed by Governor Rev. Francis Nicholson to what were known as the two parishes of Cecil County, North and South Sasafrass, which encompassed Shrewsbury.

Richard Bennett III asserted that all his enslaved people were instructed in the Catholic faith, so it is a little puzzling that Dick was married in an Anglican ceremony; perhaps Rev Sewell was the only local clergyman willing to perform the nuptials.

In any event, Rev Sewell appears to have been well situated in the county. His daughter Mary Anne Sewell married Thomas Hepbourn around 1745 and bore at least four children. i do not see any other criminal complaints recorded against him during his long tenure in the parish.

The Shrewsbury Parish records (MSA SC 2513-1, M 339) record weddings, births and deaths in the parish during the 1730s, but I see no reference to the matrimony of Amy Nabb and Dick. Perhaps, given the legal complexities, the reference was deleted from the register.

Who was Amy Nabb and how did Dick know here?

Richard Bennett owned extensive land in Kent County, including in Shrewsbury Town, evidently near the church where the 1733 wedding was conducted. In 1692, Bennett acquired Worton Manor on Steel Pond Creek in Kent County, a property he subsequently resurveyed and expanded; it is possible that Dick was placed at one of Bennett’s Kent County properties the 1730s and met Amy Nabb there, or they may have had a different connection.

I have not yet seen another reference to an Amy Nabb in Eastern Shore records.

I see two Nabbs in Kent County late 18th century records:

1. Elisha Nabb, who served in Maryland’s Captain John Dane’s Company (Queen Anne’s County) during the American Revolution, who is listed in the Kent County assessment records in 1783 (Elisha Nabb. KE 1st District, p. 10. MSA S 1161-7-1 1/4/5/50) and in the 1790 census, when he owned 8 slaves; he subsequently moved to Havre de Grace.

2, Margarette Nash in the 1790 census in Kent County, owning five slaves.

Perhaps, Amy Nabb was a daughter of John Nab or Nabb, who died in Queen Anne’s County in 1710 or his brothers Charles Nabb and Richard Nabb, all sons of John Nabb who died in 1707. Charles Nabb married Elizabeth Wyat on 20 Apilr 1737 in Queen Anne’s County. James Nabb, whose will is dated 1 December 1756, names his wife Elizabeth his executor. In turn Elizabeth Nabb (widow of James Nabb) died in 1768 and leaves her estate to be divided among her children, none of them named Amy. Joseph Nabb, who died in 1776, mentions his daughters Rebeccah and Mary (?) but no Amy.. The 1776 Maryland census for Queen Anne’s County lists a Sarah Nabb, in the Town Hundred (MSA Box 2, f. 19, p. 4. MSA S 1419-11-11773)

What was the relationship between Dick and Richard Bennett III?

Since “Dick” is a nickname for Richard, the same first name as Richard Bennett, and since Dick was the only slave of Bennett’s to be privileged with manumission (and accorded matrimony with a white woman by Reverend Sewell) it seems a reasonable hypothesis that Dick was the biological son of Richard Bennett III and an enslaved woman.

Presumably, after the 1734 court ruling the marriage of Dick and Amy ceased to have any legal force: I do not know if they continued to cohabit. Any child birthed by Amy Nabb, as a white woman, would have been considered freeborn and not enslaved. It is possible that Dick sired children with an enslaved woman or women on the Bennett plantation or elsewhere; if so, all the children mothered by enslaved women would have legally been considered enslaved.

What happened to DIck?

The 1776 Maryland census does not list a free Black man “Dick” in Queen Anne’s County, but does list a free Black man “Dick” residing in Mill Hundred of adjacent Talbot County (Box 2, f. 23, p. 5. MSA S 1419-1-11835)

Regularized freedom certificates were not issued in Maryland until 1805, which was probably too late to record Dick, who might have been born around 1710. The Register of freedom certificates in the state may well have recorded his descendants. (See QUEEN ANNE’S COUNTY REGISTER OF WILLS (Certificates of Freedom) MSA CM856-1 and MSA CM856-3)

I would be grateful for any guidance as we search for records of the free man Dick and his descendants.

I have been trying to trace enslaved people held at Bennett’s Point on Morgan’s Neck in Queen Anne’s County, Maryland, referenced in the 1749 will of Richard Bennett III. (Our information on these enslaved people is limited because it appears that no probate inventory of Bennett’s estate was taken, perhaps because neither he nor his principle heir and executor, Col. Edward Lloyd III (1711-1770), has substantial debts to settle.

One of those named in the will is the enslaved house servant Jack Gooby. In his original will Richard Bennett III bequeaths “Jack Gooby that attends the house” to his cousin John Rousby (who inherited the property on Morgan’s Neck where Bennett had resided). However, in the third codicil to his will Bennett makes an alteration: “My negro Jack Gooby that attends in the house, given by my will to cousin Mr. John Rousby, I now give to cousin Edwd. Tilghman.” (Bennett also bequeaths, “To Mr. Edward Tilghman, for his trouble in writing this will & other services, 100 pounds”)

This was Edward Tilghman, Sr, “Of Wye,” 1713-1785, a prominent planter and politician who served as High Sheriff and Justice of Queen Anne’s County, Colonel in the Maryland militia, member and speaker in the Maryland Assembly, and representative of the colony to the “Stamp Act Congress’ of 1765. He owned Whitehall Plantation, which he passed on to his son Edward Tilghman, Jr in 1772; around 1774 he also seem to have transferred 24 slaves to his children.

Jack Gooby then appears over three decades later in the will of this same Edward Tilghman (of Wye), Sr, testated in 1785. Tilghman asserts that Gooby had, back in 1749, requested that he be willed to Tilghman, and asks that Gooby be treated with special consideration by his future owners:

“As by his own request he was bequeathed to me as I have been informed my man Jack Gooby I desire may choose his own master or mistress among my Children. I do give bequeath him to whomever he desires. I desire he may be treated with something (sic.) more Tenderness than slaves generally are depending upon his Gratitude for doing whatever he can towards his suppo

rt. He is ailing I believe.” (Queen Anne’s Wills 1777-1785 vol 1, p. 281.)

Tilghman also notes in the will, “I give and bequeath unto my Daughter Susannah five hundred pounds lawful money and the mulatto girl Polly who waits in the House daughter of Jack Gooby over and above the share of my personal estate as atd (attested?)” I have not seen a reference yet to who Jack chose as master or mistress, although it may be that he chose to be transferred to Susanna Tilghman (later Susanna Jones) in order to remain close to his daughter Polly.

Thomas Goody: Possible Kin of Jack Gooby?

Beatriz Hardy (Goucher College) notes that the Black man Thomas Gooby is repeatedly referenced in the 1769 and 1770 diary of Jesuit Father Joseph Mosley, as serving as godfather to fthe baptisms of five Black children. Fr. Mosley, SJ, was during this period assigned to St. Joseph’s Tuckahoe and St. Peter’s Queenstown on the Eastern Shore, which included many Black enslaved and free communicants (Source; Archives of the Maryland Province of the Society of Jesus at Georgetown University’s Special Collections)

25 July 1769: Mary ngo (negro), godfather Thos. Gooby ngo and godmother Sue

25 July 1769 Isbabell Ngo, godfather Thos. Gooby ngo and godmother Betty ngo

25 July 1769 Frances ngo, godfather Thos. Gooby ngo and godmother Marina

4/15/1770 Isabella N., godfather Thos. Gauby and godmother Elizabeth

5/6/1770 Richard N., godfather Thom Gouby N. and godmother Judith N.

Thomas Gooby at the time of the baptisms in 1769-70 was age 72, the oldest enslaved person on a Blake family plantation on the Wye River in Queen Anne’s County. I believe this was the former plantation of Charles Henry Blake, who was married to Henrietta Lloyd II, half sister of Richard Bennett III, who served as a testator to Charles Blake’s will in 1732. (Source: Beatriz Betancourt Hardy, “The Papists..have shewn a laudable Care and Concern: Catholicism, Anglicanism and Slave Religion in Colonial Maryland, ” MARYLAND HISTORICAL MAGAZINE, VOL. 98, NO. I (SPRING 2003).

Perhaps Thomas Goodby was the father, uncle, or cousin of Jack Gooby.

Kennersley and Swan Point Connections?

I am not sure what became of Jack Gooby or his daughter Polly (Gooby?) after 1785. Shortly after her father’s death, Susanna Carroll Tilghman married Richard Ireland Jones, who legally acquired her property. On her land on Southeast Creek he began to build in the late 1780s the plantation house known as Kennersley or Kinnersley, which still stands on Southeast Creek Road, Church Hill in northern Queen Anne’s County.

Susanna appears to have died around 1800 (I have not found clear information on her death). She and Richard Ireland Jones had only one child, Arthur Tilghman Jones Sr, 1787-1849,who, according to secondary sources, inherited both land and slaves from his mother. (I have not located Susanna’s will or other probate records in Queen Anne’s or Kent County records).

After the War of 1812, Arthur Tilghman Jones Sr ,filed for compensation for the escape on a British naval vessel from his Swan Point ( Kent County MD) farm, on September 16, 1814 of the following freedom seekers; Jacob Murray, Delilah Murray, George Horner, Abraham Lyles, John Chambers, Hannah Lyles, Elijah Lyles, and Polly Chambers. The British ship had traveled along the Patapsco River after the attack on Baltimore and anchored at Swan Point, where it boarded these self-liberated people.

The freedom-seeker Polly Chambers was 17 years old at the time of her escape, so born around 1797. One wonders if she might be the daughter of, or otherwise related to, the mulatto “girl” Polly Gooby, who, as noted, had been inherited by Susanna Tilghman (Jones) in 1785. If Polly Gooby was, for instance, 15 at the time of Edward Tilghman’s death, she would have been born around 1770.

Also escaping in the same event was 18 year old John Chambers, perhaps the husband or brother of Polly Chambers. John served in the Second Company of the (British) Colonial Corps of Marines. “In December 1814, he participated in the British invasion of Cumberland Island in Georgia, which liberated many enslaved people. I believe the Corps was then stationed in Bermuda, until they were disbanded. During 1815-16, John Chambers was one of about 800 former Black troops settled by the British on designated land in southern Trinidad, establishing the so-called “Merikin” community. “By 1823, however, Chambers had moved to the Fourth Company’s hospital for “mal d’estomac,” now understood as hookworm.” (Source:https://msa.maryland.gov/megafile/msa/speccol/sc5400/sc5496/001600/001610/html/001610bio.html) Weiss, John McNish, The Merikens: Free Black American Settlers in Trinidad 1815-1816. London: McNish & Weiss, 2002). I do not known if he was an ancestor of the prominent politician George Michael Chambers, 1928-1997, who served as Trinidad and Tobago’s Second Prime Minister,and who was the son, I believe, of George Basil Chambers.) I am not sure if Polly also settled in Trinidad.

In 1822, Susanna’s son Arthur Tilghman Jones, suffering extensive debt, sold 19 enslaved people, some or all of whom had been inherited from his mother Susanna: Solomon, William, Charles, Metus, Frank, Dick, William, Mitty, Kitty, Emory, Anna, Sally, Bill, Edward, Betsey, George, Charles, Metus, Bill. I am not sure if any of these individuals were kin to Jack or Polly Gooby.

Other Possible Jack Gooby Descendants

Various enslaved and free persons of color with the surname Gooby on the Eastern Shore may be direct or collateral descendants of Jack Gooby and his daughter Polly.

1. The will of Arthur Emory in Queen Anne’s County, 8 March 1807, proved 7 April 1807, manumits a Lucy Gooby, with her freedom to commence 8 March 1824.
2. The 1850 census in Queen Anne’s County, District 3, records a free man of color, Charles Gooby, born around 1810, residing in the household of the white farmer James Burris.
3. Robert Gooby, born around 1832, enlisted in Baltimore on 21 September, 1863 in United States Colored Infantry Regiment 7, Company G, He mustered out in Indianola Texas on 13 October 1866. On 5 December 1866, his former owner Miss Louisa Tilghman claimed compensation for his enlistment during the Civil War. Louisa writes she had inherited Joseph from the estate of her father, William Gibson Tilghman, 1785-1844, of Baltimore, who was the son of Richard William Tilghman, 1739-1809, son of William Tilghman, 1711-1782, brother of Edward Tilghman, who had inherited Jack Gooby from Richard Bennett in 1749 and who passed Jack Gooby on to one of his children in 1785.

Robert appears in the 1870 census in Talbot County living with Annie Gooby, age 50 (born about 1820), his likely mother. He is married to Betsy Gooby, with children Alice and William.

4. In the same USCT regiment is Private Joseph Gooby, perhaps Robert’s brother, born around 1830 in Talbot County. Joseph Gooby also enlisted on 21 September 1863, and served in the United States Colored Infantry Regiment 7, Company C (unlike Robert who served in Company G). He was mustered out of the Army on May 3, 1865, from the US General Hospital in Norfolk, VA, on account of disability: he had sustained a wound to his hip, evidently in the Battle of Chaffin’s Farm and New Market Heights, September 1864, in the Siege of Petersburg. leaving him paralyzed in one leg.

As she did with Robert, his former owner Louisa Tilghman also claimed compensation for Joseph, noting that she had acquired him in 1844 though the division of the estate of her father William Gibson Tilghman in Baltimore.

After the war, Joseph was one of the founders, with other USCT veterans, of Unionville, Maryland. On 12 March 1869, Joseph opened a Freedman’s Bank account in Baltimore, giving as his residence Easton in Talbot County and noting that in case of illness or death, his wife Mary was to have access to the deposited funds.

In 1875 (or earlier) Joseph married Mary E Roberts; their children included born 1876, Kate Goodby, b 1877, Emma Gooby, b 1879, Henriette Gooby, b 1879, Tilghman Owens Gooby, b 1880, Mary E Gooby, 1885, Anna Gooby, 1889, Laura Gooby, 1893, and Lillie Gooby, 1895.

Joseph Gooby died in 1901, and was buried in Saint Stephens Church Cemetery in Easton, Talbot County

The first name of his Joseph Gooby’s son, Tilghman Owens Gooby, emphasizes a connection to the Tilghman family. Tilghman Gooby appears in 1910 in the Baltimore City Directory as a porter. He later appears in the 1940 census, married to Rachel Ennels. Their children included Joseph Gooby, 1926-1995; Robert Owen Gooby, 1937-2012, Samuel Gooby, and Emma Gooby.

It is hoped that future research will cast more light on the descendants of Jack and Polly Gooby and others formerly enslaved by Richard Bennett III of Bennett’s Point.

Acknowledgements: Many thanks to William Kelly and Chris Haley, Legacy of Slavery in Maryland Project, Maryland State Archives, for research guidance. Dean Bea Hardy (Goucher) is an invaluable source of insight into Richard Bennett III and his Eastern Shore Catholic contemporaries.

Sources.

Kelly, William. Black Freedom Seeking During the War of 1812: From the Chesapeake, Cumberland Island, and Beyond Part 2, National Park Service.

Weiss, John McNish, The Merikens: Free Black American Settlers in Trinidad 1815-1816. (London: McNish & Weiss, 2002).

Cindy Claure-Veizaga has created this guide to online resources about Barry Farm in Anacostia, Ward 8. Washington DC. This serves as a supplement to the student-authored website, Southeast Voices: History and Memory in Barry Farms, Ward 8 (Holding on to Home: The Untold Story of Barry Farm)

See all student-authored online community research exhibits for Dr. Auslander’s Raceaand Racism (Anth 210) Fall 2025, American University at: https://markauslander.com/2025/11/25/community-research-projects-race-and-racism-anth-210-fall-2025-american-university/

1. Barry Farm Documentary: Community, Land, and Justice in Washington DC. A History of Community Building and Displacement

Overview The video introduces Barry Farm as a site with a long history of community building and subsequent displacement in Washington D.C From indigenous communities to formerly enslaved people building a thriving Black community, and later a public housing complex, the area hasundergone continuous shifts. The rapid pace of gentrification continues this cycle, displacing residents and tearing down homes (1:12-1:41).
—Barry Farm: A “Gold Mine” for Developers.

Residents express their sadness and disbelief at the demolition of their homes. One community member states, “Now you’re just here the demolition and homes being torn down… this is like a lot of land, this is like a gold mine to the developers” (2:00-2:10). This highlights the economic forces driving the displacement, where land is seen as a commodity rather than a home.

The Origins of Barry Farm: From Plantation to Freedmen’s Village

The film delves into the origins of Barry Farm, revealing it was once a plantation owned by a slave-owning planter named Barry (3:28-4:53). After the Civil War, the Freedmen’s Bureau
purchased this land and sold plots to formerly enslaved people. This allowed them to build a life for themselves, though residents note, “this wasn’t even that, this was people who purchased the land right, they weren’t given the land… I still feel like it was really their birthright to be able to be landowners because that was one of the many things that had been denied them for so longeven though they work the land themselves” (7:15-7:39).

A Thriving Black Enclave and Homeownership
Early residents of Barry Farm, including reverends, teachers, builders, and farmers, created a“thriving black enclave” (12:11). They built their homes and cultivated their land, creating asuccessful neighborhood. The video emphasizes its legacy as “a black ownership community inD.C” (12:54-13:00). A descendant of Emily Edmondson, one of the founding members who escaped slavery, reflects on the freedom he now has to walk the same streets his ancestors had tosneak through for freedom, saying “it just resonates with me that not long after they had to sneakthrough those streets for freedom I had the freedom and I could just walk those streets”
(13:51-14:01).

The Public Housing Era: A Haven and A Home
In the 1930s and 40s, a public housing complex was built on Barry Farms due to segregation,offering housing to African Americans who migrated to D.C. Residents describe it as a “perfectcommunity, a haven” (16:43) where “everybody took pride and kept their homes up” (16:47-16:59), highlighting the strong sense of community and support.

Civil Rights Activism and the Fight for Dignity
Barry Farms was the core of Civil Rights activism. Students from the dwellings successfully
challenged segregation in D.C. public schools (24:09-24:30). The “Band of Angels,” led by Miss Etta Horn, fought for the rights of welfare recipients, ending intrusive home investigations and advocating for dignity. A resident recalls the feeling of activism “it made you feel wonderful, it made you feel good you were doing something” (27:54-28:00).

The Rise of Go-Go Music and the Junkyard Band
Barry Farm became an “epicenter for Go-Go” (31:40-31:43), with the Junkyard Band emerging from the neighborhood. Members of the band, who started with homemade instruments, credit their roots, “wouldn’t be no junkyard without Barry Farms because we are very fun”
(32:00-32:05).

Go-Go music provided a unifying force, bringing people together. (31:12-31:15)

Neglect, Stereotypes, and Displacement
Decades of neglect led to the deterioration of the dwellings, and Barry Farms became unfairly“synonymous with drugs and crime” (35:58-36:01). Despite the negative stereotypes, residentsmaintained a strong sense of community, stating, “it’s still overall a good place, a lot of peopleneed these houses, it was a lot of families here that were my family over there, family, family”
(36:34-36:45).

This section concludes with the heartbreaking reality of mass displacement, a
“nightmare” (40:39-40:41) with residents unsure if they will ever return.

A Fight for Preservation and Sacred Space
In 2019, residents organized to preserve some of the remaining homes as historic landmarks, advocating for their history to be remembered and their stories told. One resident passionatelystates, “what remains of Barry Farms is too important in the development of this city to go thebulldozer” (46:07-46:13). While only five dwellings were preserved, it was a significant step.

The section ends with a powerful reflection on Barry Farm as a “Sacred Space” (47:39-48:16), aplace where “blood, sweat, and tears” (48:24-48:34) were shed, and where joy and triumph were also found.

2. We Shall Not Be Moved: Stories of Struggle from Barry Farm–Hillsdale
Stories of Struggle from Barry Farm–Hillsdale (on line exhibiiton: Anacostia Community Museum, Smithsonian)

Barry Farm–Hillsdale was founded in 1867 as a place where formerly enslaved African
Americans could own land and build independent lives. For generations, residents created
homes, churches, schools, and political networks rooted in self-determination. Even after
demolition in 2019, the community’s legacy of resistance and organizing endures.

Building Freedom After Emancipation

Land ownership was central to freedom at Barry Farm–Hillsdale. Residents built homes and
institutions with limited resources, shaping a strong sense of independence and political
awareness. Longtime resident Pierre McKinley Taylor recalled early life without basic
infrastructure, “When we first moved on Nichols Avenue we didn’t have running watter… Youeither had a well or you had a system.”

Place, Memory, and Community Roots
An 1867 map shows Barry Farms–Hillsdale as a connected community of families, churches, and schools. Leaders such as Frederick Douglass Jr. and Solomon G. Brown lived alongside working families. Churches like Mt. Zion AME and schools such as Howard School anchored civic life, reinforcing how land and place shaped belonging.
Voting Rights and Women’s Political Action
Residents viewed voting as essential to full citizenship. In 1877, men and women from Barry Farms–Hillsdale signed a petition to Congress demanding women’s suffrage. Their action linkedlocal struggle to national movements and showed a belief in shared political responsibility acrossgender lines.

Fighting for Basic Services
For decades, the neighborhood lacked running water, paved streets, and sanitation. Residentsorganized repeatedly for essential services while adapting to neglect. Reliance on wells andrainwater was both a necessity and a reminder of unequal treatment by the city.

Resisting Redevelopment and Displacement
Beginning in the 1940s, officials labeled Barry Farm–Hillsdale a “slum” to justify demolition. Residents rejected this narrative and fought back. Activist Ella B. Pearis remembered confronting Congress directly, “They said this was a slum… We went to congress… We defeated them.”

Challenging Segregation
Residents protested discrimination in employment and public spaces. During the 1940s, pickets targeted White-owned businesses that refused to hire Black workers. Activist Norman E. Dalelater believed his military draft was retaliation, revealing the personal risks of resistance.

Integrating the Anacostia Pool
African Americans were barred from the Anacoatia Pool, forcing children to swim in the
dangerous river. In 1949, youth from Barry Farm–Hillsdale challenged segregation through
repeated attempts to enter the pool. After arrests and clashes, the pool reopened in 1950 as an
integrated facility without incident.

School Desegregation and Its Limits
Families from Barry farm–Hillsdale challenged segregation through Bolling v. Sharpe. While theSupreme Court ruled segregation unconstitutional, residents knew legal change was not the same as social equality. Gerald B. Boyd explained: “There is a difference between desegregation and integration… integration… is mental.”
Black Power and Community Control
In 1966, Stokley Carmichael spoke at Barry Farms Dwellings, popularizing the phrase “BlackPower.” The message resonated with residents who already practiced autonomy throughorganizing and mutual aid. They rally connected the neighborhood to a national movement for political independence and cultural pride.
Women, Welfare, and Housing Justice
Women led some of the most powerful organizing efforts. The Band of Angels fought for safe housing, welfare rights, and health care access. Lillian Wright summarized their philosophy,

“Since we live here, we are best qualified to advise… how the funds should be spent.”
Youth Leadership and Community Care Residents invested in young people as a form of resistance. Founded in 1966, the Rebels with a cause provided jobs, recreation, and mentorship to more than 1,500 youth. Their work offered alternatives to criminalization and strengthened community pride.
Environmental Justice and Health
In the 1990s, residents confronted toxic pollution from the Navy Yard contaminating the
Anacostia River. Activists like Dorothea Ferrell demanded accountability, linking Barry
Farm–Hillsdale to broader environmental justice struggles affecting Black communities.
Demolition, Loss, and Preservation

In 2019, Barry Farm Dwellings were demolished, displacing residents and erasing historic
structures. Yet organizing continued. Advocate Daniel del Pielago reflected, “An organized
group of people can win something, even if it wasn’t what we ultimately wanted.”

Why These Stories Matter
Barry Farm–Hillsdale’s history shows how Black communities resist erasure through collective action. Centering residents’ voices reminds us that struggles over housing, land, and power are ongoing and that this community’s legacy continues to shape fights for justice today.

Barry Farm–Hillsdale: Uplifting a Living History, Ensuring a Just
Future

Barry Farm–Hillsdale is a sacred site in Washington, DC, rooted in Black land ownership andcollective struggle since 1867. What remains today, five historic buildings and streets named forabolitionists, stands as evidence of generations who built community, resisted displacement, and
demanded justice.Preserving this site ensures that Black history is not erased amid rapid
gentrification.

Land, Memory, and Belonging
The land that became Barry Farm–Hillsdale has long been a place of belonging, from the
ancestors of today’s Piscataway people to formerly enslaved African Americans seeking freedom after the Civil War. Residents built schools, churches, and businesses, forming a self-sustaining community known as Hillsdale. Land ownership was not only economic security, but a foundation for dignity and identity.

Displacement and Survival
Government actions repeatedly disrupted the community. The construction of Suitland Parkwayin the 1940s displaced hundreds of residents, and public housing development replaced land taken from Black homeowners. Despite this, residents continued to organize, desegregate schools, and fight for fair treatment, proving that community life endured even under structural violence.

Organizing for Justice
Barry Farm–Hillsdale was home to national leaders in civil rights, welfare rights, and housing justice. Tenant leader Etta Mae Horn helped found the National Welfare rights Organization and advised Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. during the Poor People’s Campaign. The community’s legacy shows how local organizing shaped national movements for economic justice.

Culture as Resistance
Culture has always been central to Barry Farm’s resilience. From the Goodman League
basketball program to the formation of the Junkyard Band, residents created spaces for joy,
creativity, and connection. These cultural institutions remain active today, carrying the
neighborhood’s history forward and linking past generations to present-day DC

Barry Farm as a Sacred Space
Community members describe Barry Farm not just as housing, but as home. Junkyard Band
member Vernell “Wink” Powell captured this feeling, saying: “Barry Farm, to me, was like one big old grandma house.” His words reflect the care, familiarity, and shared responsibility that defined daily life in the community

Preservation Is About People

Preservation at Barry Farm–Hillsdale is not only about saving buildings, it is about honoringlives, dreams, and struggles. As ANC Commissioner Ra Amin stated during a preservation hearing, “Historic preservation is more than just buildings. It’s about people, it’s about dreams.” This perspective centers residents as the heart of preservation efforts

3. Website: Designing a Just Future

https://www.dclegacyproject.org/

The DC Legacy Project envisions the Barry Farm site as a living museum and active community space. Through design workshops and public engagement, former residents and allies imaginedspaces for learning, healing, organizing, and entrepreneurship. These plans emphasizecommunity control, cultural production, and economic opportunity rather than erasure

Why This Resource Matters
The Design Resource Booklet shows how history, design, and community organizing come
together to resist displacement. By centering resident voices and collective memory, the projectinsists that Barry Farm–Hillsdale remains a place of pride, resistance, and possibility past, present, and future

4. Barry Farm: Past and Present Part 1 (Youtube Video)
The Historic Significance of Barry Farms

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vp8mOTJKq9M

Barry Farms holds a profoundly significant place in American History as the first free Black
community established in Washington, D.C after the Civil War (1:18-1:26). It was the initial
place in the district where black individuals could own property, a pioneering “model
community” (1:26-1:53).

The Origins: From Plantation to Community
The community’s name directly reflects its origin: it was once part of a large tobacco farm
owned by James Barry in the mid-19th century (3:06-3:27). This substantial 375-acre tract was later purchased by General Howard and the Freedmen’s Bureau. The intention was to sell one-acre lots to newly freed slaves, allowing them to work in the city or cultivate their land (3:37-3:57).

Early Life and Self-Reliance in Barry Farms
Barry Farm exemplified the industry and aspirations of African Americans (4:01-4:07).
Residents lived in clapboard cottages and raised animals, demonstrating remarkable self-reliance (4:10-4:21). Despite the primitive circumstances, it served as a powerful “reputation of the stereotype that blacks were ignorant and lazy” (5:05-5:14). It became a “shining example of what could happen if you only gave African-Americans a chance” (5:21-5:25).

The early residents were true heroes, clearing land, building homes with minimal tools, and walking long distances to work (6:06-7:10). Many paid for their lots through a purchase-lease program where money was deducted from their pay (7:12-7:27). Moving to Barry Farm required “a tremendous leap of faith and an absolute demonstration of rock solid courage” (7:53-8:00).

This was due to the dangers posed by hostile white attitudes and even violence from slaveholders
(

8:18-9:12). The Decline and Challenges Faced
Over time, the community faced significant challenges. The city was “incredibly cruel and mean” (9:27-9:28) to Hillsdale, including Barry Farm, leading to overcrowding and the construction ofpoorly maintained public housing (9:33-9:57).
Infrastructure developments like the Baltimore Railroad and I-295 cut off the community’s
access to the Anacostia River (10:57-11:33). This hindered their economic ventures like fishing and selling goods. The video states that “government encroachment” and “private business encroachment has eaten up the edges of Barry farm for highways and businesses”

(11:55-12:00). Community Spirit and Nostalgia
Despite the hardships, the early Barry Farm community was described as “beautiful”
(12:20-12:20). Residents recalled a time when “if you leave your back and front door open
nobody will walk in and steal anything” (12:32-12:38). Another thing to mention was that
neighbors were “just like family, they looked up to one another” (12:40-12:44), and it was a
“calm clean quiet community” (12:53-12:58).

There was a strong sense of unity and mutual support, with families communicating, working together, and participating in co-ops and youth activities (13:30-14:00). A former resident fondly remembers, “everybody was calling that’s my cousin or that’s my friend it’s my schoolmate and they confide in each other very well and I would love to see that again” (15:54-16:07).

Notable Figures and Their Impact
Solomon G. Brown (19:33-22:50), an incredibly influential figure from Barry Farm, born in
Washington D.C in 1829. He was a self-taught “renaissance man” (20:44-20:46), excelling in
poetry, natural science, biology, and geography.
Brown was a respected scientist and one of the longest-serving employees at the Smithsonian Institution. He also represented the community in the territorial government, elected by both Black and White residents. He was instrumental in bringing city services like sewers and water to the area.

One young resident expressed admiration, stating, “I would be like Solomon G Brown cuz
Solomon G Brown he came from like he came from nothing for real he came from like scratch”(22:06-22:12), highlighting his journey from poverty to prominence.
Frederick Douglass (23:59-26:50): Though he later moved to Cedar Hill, Frederick Douglass
and his family had a significant presence in Barry Farm. His sons, Charles and Frederick
Douglass, lived in the community since 1867 and were instrumental in its early organization. Charles Douglass became a School Board president, and Douglass Elementary School was named for him. The Douglasses’ involvement underscored the community’s prominence.

Samuel Edmonson (26:54-29:29): A key figure in the Pearl Escape, a significant slave escape attempt in 1848. Samuel Edmonson, from Barry Farm, played an integral role in planning andexecuting the escape, demonstrating immense courage and a fight for freedom. His story is seen as an example for young people seeking change in their lives (29:13-29:26).

General Howard and the Freedmen’s Bureau
General Howard was appointed by President Abraham Lincoln to lead the Freedmen’s Bureau(30:44-31:00). His role was to help resettle displaced people and educate newly freed men and women (31:51-32:05). Faced with immense opposition, Howard established a trust with SenatorPomeroy and hardware magnate Elvin to purchase the Barry Farm land (32:15-33:25).

A crucial aspect of this initiative was that the land was purchased by three African-American colleges (Howard and Lincoln mentioned), and the money from the sale and rental of lots went back to fund these institutions, including Howard University (33:55-35:10).

This “wonderful experiment” (35:11-35:12) also saw Howard establish Black educational
institutes throughout the South (35:16-35:24), leaving a lasting legacy of education for Black people (35:25-35:36).

Preserving the Legacy: A Disconnect with the Past
The documentary highlights a concerning “disconnect” between the current generation and the rich history of Barry Farm. Many young people living in Barry Farm today are “not even
connected with the fact that the soil that they’re living on was freemen soil” (16:36-16:41).
There’s a desire to advocate for developers to “Salvage this history” (18:41-18:45), but simply naming buildings after historical figures like Solomon G. Brown isn’t enough if the community doesn’t know their stories or their significance (19:26-19:32).

As one young person expressed, “I had to find him on the internet. I didn’t even learn about him in school. I wonder why he is not an out Tex” (22:49-22:54). The film implicitly calls for a reconnection with this vital past to inspire future generations.

My students Isabella (“Izzy”) Bradbury and Nadia Liban at American University have created two works of expressive art honoring“Atwai” (Deceased) Pochahsquinest Bassett, (1936-1968). Izzy created the multimedia collage piece “At Last!” and Nadia wrote a poem, “I can still see the stars.”

We hope this page will serve as a resource for others learning about MMIW/MMIP and for those interested in promoted art, poetry, and creative expression in support of the MMIW movement.

Background: During Fall semester 2025, students in both sections of my Race and Racism (Anth 210) course at AU have been working to assist the family of Atwai Bassett in reconstructing her life in Chicago, under conditions of Federal Relocation, until she went missing in late spring 1968. I have reviewed what we know of her life in a blog post, using her full name, and some of my students have created a website in her memory. Another student created a website reviewing the entire MMIW Movement. [Now that she has been properly re-interred back in the Yakama Nation, we are following tradition and not identifying her by her full name, but instead using the Ichiskin term “Atwai” (Deceased) for the time being.]

“At Last!” by Izzy Bradbury (a painting/collage)

The title for the art work is ““At Last!” honoring the beloved song of the 1940s that became the signature song of American blues and soul artist Etta James. “At Last!” is also the title of Etta James’ debut studio album, released on Argo Records in November 1960. The album captures the incomparable energy of the city of Chicago on the eve of the 1960s. This is a song that the Atwai certainly would have heard living in Chicago and perhaps danced to.  Hear the song at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1qJU8G7gR_g

The phrase, “At Last” also references our great relief that in September 2025, through the combined work of family members, MMIW researchers, and allies, Atwai at last came home to the land and people who cherish and hold her dear forever.

Visual description of art work: A silhouette outline of the Deceased is shown framed within the American flag and the Yakama Nation flag, which includes an Eagle sacred to the peoples of the Nation, as well as the outline of the state of Illinois, where Atwai lived from 1957 to 1968. Collage images within the outline of Atwai shows scenes from her imagined or reconstructed life in Chicago, including the skyline as it is seen from the Loop or Near North boulevards she often walked on, the American Indian Center that was just a few doors from her hotel in Uptown, some of the wonderful musical artists she might have encountered living on the South Side of Chicago, or heard on the airwaves, the kind of hip clothing including boots she might have worn,  beaded work and Native American jewelry to honor her heritage and the Pan-Indian ideas that were emerging in Chicago on the eve of the Red Power movement. 

Artist’s Statement:  Though this art piece I seek to honor Atwai Bassett, humanizing her and exhibiting her interests in an artistic way. I used her ethnic identities as the background, American, Yakama Nation tribe, and one of Illinois; showing the broader context of her story. But Martha was more than that,  as she had a life with hobbies, interests, and goals, which the public deserves to be more informed about. For the Bassett family, I wanted to make a physical representation of all that Martha had probably enjoyed being a young woman in Chicago. She is at the center of the art as a silhouette, her interests being the main focal point of the collage. (Izzy Bradbury)

A Talking Circle

Reflections by Students

Observations by Nadia: This piece immediately situates Martha Basset within a layered historical context, using the backgrounds of the American flag, Yamaka beadwork motifs, and Chicago’s skyline to visually map the intersecting identities she carried throughout her life. The collage mirrors the conditions caused by the Indian Relocation Act, a policy that pushed thousands of Native people–including young women like Martha–into urban centers with promises of opportunity without structural support from the government. The mixture of beadwork, cultural textiles, and city imagery shows that while she lived in Chicago, her Indigenous identity traveled with her, shaping her life in ways the public rarely acknowledges. In this sense the background becomes not just a setting, but a commentary on how policies were created to uproot families and place Native women into environments where they would become vulnerable.

The silhouette at the center, filled with music icons, fashion references, and a sense of everyday joy–is a refusal of the way Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women (MMIW) cases are often portrayed: reduced to statistics, stripped of humanity. Instead, Izzy fills Martha’s outline with items that feel lived-in, warm, and personal. These elements collectively remind the viewer that Martha was not just a victim, but a young woman with interests, tastes, and aspirations. In bringing the personal and the political together, the piece states that Martha’s story is not only a tragedy, but a statement to resilience, community, and the urgent need to remember her fully.

Observations by Can Yao: At Last!” made me feel the important role of art in memory and politics. The artist uses clipping, drawing and flag methods to present Atwai’s story before our eyes. A young girl with life and dance, dreams, hobbies, and a bright future.

This artwork really touched my heart. The various scenes inside, such as the city’s lights, music, culture, and clothing and accessories. These details can enable us to have a profound understanding of the girl Atwai. This girl who had vanished from history has been brought back to life by the work. A person with family, friends, and a future. On the other hand, the comments of Nadia and many scholars also resonated with me. It made me deeply realize once again that art is not merely a tool for commemoration. Instead, it can bring those who have been neglected back into the public eye once again.

Especially in today’s world where the MMIW/MMIP issue remains very serious, art can serve as a tool for us to speak out for justice. “At Last!” is not just about the past, but also about the future: Atwai has finally “returned home”, but this journey home also reminds us of that memory, respect, and action must all continue.

Observation by Hiba Irmak Kir (Class TA): This artwork offers a compelling reflection of what we currently know about “Atwai” Bassett, even though many aspects of her story remain unknown. The collage—bringing together the cultural landscape of the 1960s along with racial and national symbols, highlights the fragmented nature of American socio-political life. While a sense of coherence is often projected through top-down political narratives, Atwai’s life and cultural engagements reveal the fragmentation and ambivalence of American ideals as experienced from below. Her life stands as powerful evidence of the significance of Indian American heritage and its intersections with African American and gendered forms of resistance to entrenched structures of power.

Reflections by Family, Friends, and Allies:

–Emily Washines (Yakama Nation, MMIW advocate): Having artistic expression for our MMIW is a part of helping bring awareness as well as processing the life and events of those we’ve lost. 

Januwa Moja (DC artist, community advocate): To the students who worked on this project (MMIW) Sometimes you have to take a chance and follow your heart to give voice to the voiceless. The collage that was created did just that. You shined a light on a topic that has gone dormant in the mainstream.  May you continue to use your art as an opportunity to speak your truths and  stand in your power. 

Glenna Cole Allee (artist, San Francisco, glennacoleallee.net): My gaze is led around the collage by the painted areas that overarch it. I notice that the edge of the painted flag is in tatters… or is it on fire? And the stars upon the flag have become like flowers. They contrast with the golden stars sparkling in the dark blue sky. 

The collage, partially framed by the painted areas, has many elements of an alter: images that evoke personal possessions, turquoise, beads, and styling clothing that Atwai Basset may have treasured in her time, and music she may have moved through life to. But these elements seem caught up in a wavelike, turbulent sense of motion, rather than still and as they would be if posed upon an alter. This momentum suggests that Atwai Basset’s life was caught up and carried by tumultuous forces.

The collage does also feel like a portrait: animate, as if some watchful spirit is behind all of those bits and pieces. For me this makes it very moving; it is an evocative work, in the truest sense.

—Ellen Schattschneider (Anthropologist, Brandeis University, Emerita) writes: I greatly appreciate the interplay of printed images (some of which are partly familiar) and drawn lines, textile surfaces, all framed by what I see as a human shape/torso that seems to hold all of this in its embrace.  The turquoise jewelry “eyes” give the figure an animating depth, leading the view to expect this person will soon have something to say.  This figure is simultaneously intensely private, while at the same time being fully engaged in larger public historical moments–thank you for thisdeeply evocative image!

–Jean Comaroff (Anthropologist, Harvard University, Emerita): As somebody once myself drawn to seek my fortune in Chicago, I was deeply moved by this montage, by its juxtaposition of intimate objects, vibrant culture, and urban emptiness. It suggests a place where migrants realize rich possibilities but can also fall victim to failure and alienation; a place of hope, and sometimes of despair. At a time when the city’s migrants have become prey to new forms of violence and disappearance, this work reassures us that there are those watching who will never look away or forget.

– Debbora Battaglia, (Professor Emeritus of Anthropology and Research Associate, The Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History.): I am deeply moved by the energy of recovery that powers this beautiful painting and rings so truly through the poem. Mutually augmenting, that pulsing of image and text is the creative armature of hope for a future of resounding empathy, for Atwai Bassett as for all who are living in vulnerability, undefeated.

Poem by Nadia Liban

I can still see the stars

I left the river and the hills behind,
the cedar scent still clinging to my sleeves,
my mother’s voice is humming somewhere in my bones.
The city came to me with its promises,
its music pouring from open windows
its people moving fast enough to make me believe I could move with them.
Some days I almost do.

There is a rhythm this city beats to.
In the markets, in the sidewalks, in the way the sun slips between tall buildings
or the force of the chilling winds searching for someone it remembers.
I learn new songs on borrowed radios, dance in borrowed rooms,
find pieces of myself stitched to sounds
I didn’t grow up with but still recognize.
I am not a stranger everywhere.

At night, I trace the constellations I remember,
the same ones my mother taught me–
her hand warm around mine,
guiding my finger across the sky
as if she could draw a future there.

The world is big enough to hold everything I was and everything I’m trying to be.

Sometimes a drumbeat finds me–
In passing cars, in upstairs apartments,
in the steady pulse of my own heart.
Then I know:
I am not lost, not broken, not alone.
My story is still breathing,
Woven from mountains and sidewalks,
from old socks and new dreams–
a life larger than fear, than distance,
large enough to shine.

Poet’s Statement (by Nadia Liban) : This piece is meant to humanize Martha’s life through her possible point of view. It explores the in-between of leaving home and finding belonging in a new place. I try to imagine the emotions a young Indigenous woman like Martha might have carried while she navigates a new city. Rather than focus on loss, the piece centers memory, identity, and the small moments—like a mother guiding a child’s hand toward the stars—that continue to anchor someone even far from home. It blends nostalgia with hope, honoring her humanity through the textures of everyday life.

During Fall 2025, students in Dr. Mark Auslander’s Race and Racism course (American University) undertook small group community research projects, exploring the dynamics of racism, anti-racism, resilience, and resistance in our immediate environs. Many students were deeply concerned by current efforts to reshape historical memory in museums, including the Smithsonian museums. Others partnered with friends in the Yakama Nation to research and honor the life of a woman who had been listed as missing in Chicago since 1968. Other projects explored community struggles and cultural creativity in Ward 8/Anacostia in Southeast DC, and other neighborhoods of the city, as well as racial and environmental justice struggles elsewhere.

Specific project groups include:

I. Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women & and the Martha Bassett Case

—Disappeared but Not Forgotten The Crisis of Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women and Girls

—Honoring the Life of “Atwai” (Deceased) Bassett, of the Yakama Nation (Washington State) Community partner: Emily Washines (Yakama Nation):

—Artwork and Poetry Honoring “Atwai” Bassett

II. Crises of Public Memory: The Smithsonian and Beyond

—The Politics of Historical Memory in Smithsonian Institution Museums (8:10 am section)_

–—Unseen DC: The Contested Archive> Addressing Censorship, Culture, and the Future of the Smithsonian (11:20 am section)

–“From Censorship to Celebration: Re-situating Amy Sherald’s Work from the Smithsonian to the Baltimore Museum of Art

—Imagining a Museum of Black Women’s Experience, in conversation with The Go-Go Museum in Ward 8 (The Celebration of Black Women: Successes and Shortcomings)

III. Memory and Cultural Expression in Ward 8 and “Subaltern DC”

—Southeast Voices: History and Memory in Barry Farms, Ward 8 (Holding on to Home: The Untold Story of Barry Farm)

—Youth and Inclusion at the Capital Hill Boys Club Intergenerational Gallery Ward 8

—Poetry as Resistance: Returning Citizens and Creative Expression (Community Partners; Free Minds; More than our Crimes):

– Visualizing Poetry as Posters (Community Partners; Free Minds Collective:_ 11:20 a.m.

—The Art of Luis del Valle (Ward 8): Visualizing Immigration Detention in Washington DC

IV. Partnerships for Justice

—The Federalization of Law Enforcement in the District of Columbia (and the Post Racial Myth)

—Food insecurity, Housing, and Race. (Community partners: A Wider Circle and NW Community Food)

––Environmental Justice is Love. Camden County, Georgia and Environs (Community Partner: Newton Florist’s Club)

—History and Memory in Mt Zion/Female Union Band Society Cemetery: The Enigma of Mary Burrell (Georgetown, DC)

—The Ahmadiyya Muslim community in Pakistan and worldwide

Overview: During Fall 2025, students in Dr. Mark Auslander’s “Global Studies and Cross Cultural Analysis” course (ANTH205), at the University of Southern California’s Capital Campus (Washington DC) pursued research projects on objects of exchange (primarily international exchange) that have come to rest in the nation’s capital. As a class, we have been especially interested in how social and cultural relations are produced through the exchange of material objects (or in some instances, the exchange of non-human animals) that bind together distant persons and communities, in some cases in relations of general equality and in other instances in hierarchical relations of domination or subordination. Many, although not all of the exchange media in question came to DC because its status as the seat of national government, and are tokens of international diplomatic relations between the United States and foreign governments (or in some cases, international communities that acted outside of the rubric of nation-state systems per se.). We have been interested in the dynamics of full gifts, in which ownership was permanently transferred, in loans, and in commodities, as well as exchanges that are difficult to characterize as one thing or the other.

Interpretive Framework: Our point of departure is Marcel Mauss’ foundational work of anthropology, The Gift (1923-25), in which he famously argues that social relations between similar or dissimilar social groups are built up through exchange processes. In small scale, pre-capitalist societies the gift process functions as a “total social fact” that infuses all significant aspects of the social universe. Gifts are characterized, across the great range of human cultures, by three core requirements: the obligation to give, the obligation to acknowledge the gift, and the obligation to reciprocate (nearly always, to reciprocate with an object that is different from the original gift, but usually of roughly the same value as the original gift). Gifts can bind together persons and collectivities in egalitarian ways, or in ways that are ranked or socially stratified. As the Inuit proverb has it, “As whips make dogs, gifts make slaves.”

Gifts are complex bridges between donors and recipients, embodying the spirit of their origin points and the destination points, and signifying the often fraught relationships between gift-givers and gift-receivers. We have been fascinated by the extent to which in modern, capitalist social worlds, including internationally, gifts continue to create, maintain, or transform human social relationships, especially across great distance and over extended periods of time. How do objects, in motion and in rest, help to shape people’s memories of the past and their visions of the future?

Project Context: Working in small research groups, the students faced challenges during the semester. The longest Federal Shutdown in US history meant that access to key Federal institutions, including the Smithsonian museums, the National Archives and the Library of Congress we limited or restricted. We also operated during a period of the federalization of law enforcement in the District of Columbia, as basic questions about law, community, and the shape of democracy itself were being actively contested and debated.

The projects also reflect the students’ deep interest in issues of power, inequality, poverty and social struggle, which characterized all the classes they took at the Capital Campus (with Drs. Lessersohn, Jacobs, Dinneny, and Chastain, as well as Dr. Auslander) . During the semester we engaged directly with people and communities in precarious situations, including incarceration, post-incarceration, housing insecurity, and food insecurity. Throughout, we gave serious attention to artistic and cultural creativity under extremely difficult circumstances.

The students, pursuing their first semester as University of Southern California students in Washington D.C. before relocating to Los Angeles, thus had a front row seat to history in the making. These projects reflect their experiences here in DC during a pivotal four months in the nation’s history.

Student group research projects include, listed, more or less, in chronological order of gifting:

—Gifts by the Japanese Shogunate to Commodore Matthew Perry’ in Japan in 1854 (Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History)

—Opium and Opiates as Wartime “Gifts” (from the Civil War to the present)

—Memorial markers in Mt Zion/Female Union Band cemeteries in Georgetown, District of Columbia, for Gracie Duckett and the Cartwright family from 1870.

–-The Resolute Desk given by Queen Victoria in 1880 to President Rutherford B. Hayes (The White House)

—The canoe given to the Smithsonian Institution by Queen Kapi’olani of Hawaii in 1888 (Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History)

–-The Trojan archaeological artifacts given by Sophia Schlieman, ‘Heinrich Schlieman’ss widow to the Smithsonian Institution in 1893 (Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History)

—Sultan Abdülhamid II’s (Ottoman Empire) photographic albums, presented to the Library of Congress in 1893-94. (Library of Congress)

—Harriet Tubman’s Shawl (Gifted by Queen Victoria) in 1897. Smithsonian National Museum of African American History and Culture

—-The gift of Cherry Blossom Trees from Japan and the City of Tokyo to Washington DC in 1912. West Potomac Park, and the Militarization of Cherry Blossom Imagery in Wartime Japan, 1931-1945.

–Papal and other donations within the Basilica of the National Shrine of the Immaculate
Conception (from 1920 onwards)

—The International Friendship Doll exchange between Japan and the United States (1926-1927), including Miss Japan (Miss Nihon) in the Smithsonian National Museum of Natural History

––Japanese Stone Lantern, West Potomac Park, given in 1954 by the City of Tokyo

–The Netherlands Carillon in Arlington Virginia, given by the people of the Netherlands to the people of the United States in 1954

–The loan during the Kennedy Administration in 1963, of the Mona Lisa from the Louvre in Paris France to the National Gallery of Art

–-The international loans of giant pandas from the People’s Republic of China to the National Zoo from 1972 to the present

—The proposed gift of a 747 Jumbo Jet from Quatar to the White House (2025)

Please share your questions, your reflections on these research projects, and suggestions for further research with Prof. Mark Auslander at markauslander at icloud.com

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