At the turn of the 20th century, a census-taker stopped by a rented farm in Monroe County, Georgia, and wrote down the names of my great grandfather, Green Howard; his wife, Rebecca, and their six children.
I keep trying to imagine what that was like, since it’s so different from how we do it now. I got my census form in the mail last week, took 3 minutes to fill it out and I’m mailing it today.
Back then, my great grandfather could not read or write, although his wife could. Did the white census-taker stand out in the yard of their rural cabin #125 and jot down their information? (The photo above of Green Howard was taken when he visited his son in Detroit possibly in the 1930s.)
Name. Relationship to “head of household.” Month and year of birth. Years married. Mother of how many children. Number of children living. Occupation. Read or write?
It’s hard to fathom what their family life was like back then – he and his wife had been born in slavery and lived through Reconstruction and beyond in one of the most brutal times for black people, especially in the state of Georgia where lynching was prevalent.
Equally, I’m sure that he could not have imagined that decades later, his great-great granddaughter would be writing about him – of all people.
I was able to find out some historical information about Green and Rebecca because of what they told the census-taker in June 1900. That’s why the census is so important for people of color – not just for the distribution of federal funds that can help our community and other perks – but to give us some details of our own personal histories. Unfortunately, the census form I filled out asked for very little of the information that was asked in 1900, but it at least showed that I lived and would be a good starting point to find out more about me.
The information I found out about my family on the 1900 form is the type that I will likely never find on an auction table. Records of our past just don’t end up in the dust bins. But sites like ancestry.com and heritagequestonline.com or a trip to a branch of the National Archives do make it easier, though.
I found out about my great grandparents on my mother’s side in 1989 when I helped put together a family reunion newspaper. My friend Ella and I compiled the history by using census records for historical data and filling in the rest with recollections from Green and Rebecca’s grandchildren.
From 1790 – when the first census was taken by federal marshals – until 1840, census records only recorded the head of household along with the number of slaves (only three out of five were counted, and Native Americans were not counted at all), according to the National Archives. By the time Green and Rebecca were born (he in 1852 and she in 1855), the federal government took a slave census that included the slave owner’s name, and the number of slaves by gender, age and a designation of black or mulatto. In the 1850 census, the names of all free blacks were also recorded.
In 1870, the names of all blacks were recorded as well as in the 1890 census. Most of the 1890 records were destroyed in a fire in the Commerce Department building in Washington, DC, in 1921.
When I went looking for my great-grandparents, I could not find them in the 1870 census. They apparently got married around 1883, because when the census was taken on June 8-9, 1900, they both told the census-taker that they had been married for 17 years.
Here’s the other valuable information I learned about them:
In 1900, he was 48 and she was 45. He could neither read nor write, but Rebecca could do both. According to the Census Bureau, 11 percent of the population 10 years old and over could not read or write in 1900.
They lived on a rented farm in Monroe County, Georgia (as sharecroppers, perhaps?).
They had eight children, with seven living. Only six of the children are listed, along with their names, ages, and birth month and year. The record also showed whether the children could read or write, and if they attended school. Historical records showed that schools were first established for black children in 1871 and lasted for three months during the year.
Their last son had not yet been born. The 1910 census listed him as 8 years old that year, indicating that he was born in 1901 or 1902. (His children have said that he was born in June 1900). By the 1910 census, Rebecca had died and Green had remarried.
I found all of this information in the records at the National Archives office in Philadelphia. I remember sitting at a microfilm machine, scrolling through the records when I came upon the name Green Howard and then my grandfather’s name, Alonzo.
It was one of the most amazing experiences I had ever had. I was so full of emotion that I was almost in tears. Here, in front of me, was my grandfather at 6 years old – a man I remember first as a farmer who owned his own land and then as an old man confined to a Veterans Hospital in Dublin, GA. Six years old! He had been born in 1893, according to the census record.
It was mind-boggling to me that I could reach back and connect to him. It was as if someone had touched my soul.
