As a small child when Papa was living with us, I can remember Papa at the dinner table saying “well, I got that one” after eating – as if he might not get another meal. When we had “pig feet”, he would say “we’re eating mighty low on the hog”. (Lula told me this)

As Papa walked along with his cane saying “Papa’s boy”, Asbury Jr. would crawl along trying to get away from being stepped on or mashed by Papa’s cane.

It was very cold and “Pup”was barking down in the basement. Momma and Dad were talking in the kitchen. I was resting on Papa’s lap and listening to every word. He was hard of hearing, so they had to talk real loud to include him in the conversation. It was warm in the kitchen because Papa was holding me. I wondered if “Pup” was warm too.

Papa wore glasses and he wore a large black hat. I remember that he was humming some private melody that only he knew. i wondered why gray hairs grew in his ears. (Recently, Joanne and Gerard have questioned me as to why hair grows in my ears, although, mine is not gray – not yet). Papa lived with us. Uncle Hunter and Aunt Arlene lived upstairs. Everybody was nearby and everything was alright.

The discussion in the kitchen may well have been about the planned trip to Due West. Who was to go – who was to drive – and who was to stay behind. It turned out to be a tragic trip that involved bad weather, icy roads and a tanker-truck. A very bad accident. I was to stay behind. Papa did not return to live with us anymore, but I still have one warm memory of him.

Sometimes, details tend to fade when recalling events from over 35 years. Sometimes a five-year-old uses an imagination to provide color and flavor to those events. In any case, the essence of that kitchen memory remains. Maybe he wasn’t really gone. Maybe he just stayed in Due West for a while longer. May he is still there – today. Maybe….

In one of our many secret conversations, down in the basement, “Pup” told me that he remembered Papa too.

My memories of Papa seem to focus on the period when he and Fred lived with us. I remember his as a proud man who always splashed his face with a sweet fragrance of after shave lotion as he redied himself for church each Sunday.

I remember Papa when I think of riding with Dad as he took Papa to what seemed like a “long-long” trip (this was before the lodge freeway) to the east side of Detroit where Papa would visit cousins.

I remember Papa as I think of his love of buttermilk which he drank with each meal. I had a dislike for buttermilk then, especially when Barbara & I did the dishes and it my turn to “wash” and Barabara’s turn to “wipe” – she would keep returning the “buttermilk glass” to me because buttermilk just wasn’t easy to remove.

I remember Papa carefully peeling a juicy sweet peach and sharing a slice with me as we sat on the porch. Intrigued with Papa’s hearing aide, I remember how he place the instrument into my ear and asked “can you hear Papa?” I remember saying “yes”, when actually I only heard static. I remember the fun of playing checkers with Papa at the end of the dining room table.

Most of all, however, I remember and think of Papa as I see my Dad. I see identical mannerisms, physical similarities and familiar expressions of pleasure as he, like Papa, encuorages family closeness, family love and importance of keeping family ties alive…. without speaking a word.

Papa Joe (Joseph Melvin Ellis) Memories of Isaac Ellis

The most industrious and intelligent of all slaves was Isaac Ellis. He and his wife Mary were “house servants.” She was the main cook, and he helped with house cleaning, waited on the table, and took care of the family horses. Neither of them were required to do any field work; but in their spare time, they cultivated the acreage assigned to them, raised a horse, a cow, adn other smaller animals. As experts in handling parties and dinners, they wer often called on by neighbors for help in such matters, and my grandfather allowed them to keep whatever was paid them. They saved their money but did not care to be “free”.

When the war was on, the white people who were old enough went to the front; and my grandfather, too old to fight, patriotically turned his silver and gold into Confederate currency, which was swept away when the war was over. However, Isaac Ellis kept his money in gold and successfully hid it. The home place was on the edge of the raiding parties sent out by Sherman as he passed through South Carolina. All movables were carred off by raiders, adn even the handles of cups were broken off to make them useless (I still have one of these). The whole Todd Plantation was stripped and desolate.

When the white soldiers returned from battle, they found an almost hopeless situation. Nobody had any money for a new start. In addition, the Reconstruction Government determined to humiliate those who had been wealthy and influential before the war. The most common tool for this purpose was selling the homes of the white people for “taxes”, which wer extremely high and had to be paid in cash. Neither my grandfather nor his sons were able to bid on the home place when it was put up at auction, but Isaac Ellis had saved enough to make the purchase, and he took title possession of the “big house”.

Isaac had no sense of pride in getting at a bargain his master’s property. He insisted that the whit people stay as long as they wished and offered to let them buy back the place at any time for what he paid. Isaac insisted every year that the whole group come back for a reunion, and he provided the feast and served “his folks” just as capably as a waiter as when he had been a slave. Each year when apples got ripe, he sent word to all the children to come and help themselves. There was the amethyst mine of the place with very good stones, and he welcomed any Todd descendant to come and take some stones. He personally helped them to mine them. After a time, the old house burned, and the reunions stopped, but he always gave the family a hearty welcome if any came by for any purpose. He was a real friend, both in slavery and in freedom and was affectionately called “Uncle Isaac” by all the family.