Juneteenth
The neighborhood where I grew up backed up to a bayou. The bayou was the line between where the white people lived and the black people lived...seems silly now, but that’s the way it was back then. It was as if we lived in two different countries. The black kids went to different schools, churches and in some instances even stores. In our town, I think Bogatto’s Grocery store was probably one of the first to break that barrier. We could go in and see literally everyone from all parts of town.
Oak Park had streets that went in circles and all ended up eventually at the entrance to the subdivision again. I always had strict orders to “Never leave the neighborhood”....and I didn’t. As a result my friends and I would spend the afternoons riding our bikes in those circles going past everyone’s houses a dozen times. Susan lived across the street from me. To break the boredom of riding in those constant circles we would ride on the newly graded dirt streets where the neighborhood was soon to expand.
On a June afternoon we were on just such an outing when we heard singing. Getting off our bikes, we walked through the weeds to the very edge of the bayou. The embankment was about 20 feet above where the water stood. Through the tangle of trees, honeysuckle, ferns and ivy, we could see the side and back of a white clapboard building. The windows were pushed open as high as they would go. From inside came the sound of voices singing praise songs. Some we had heard at our church, some unfamiliar, but all were joyful. The place seemed like a church but it wasn’t Sunday, and it wasn’t even a morning. We couldn’t figure out why all these people were singing so joyfully without stopping. We sat listening and watching until we couldn’t stand the mosquitoes anymore and headed for home.
As we drove up the driveway my dad was just getting home from his seven to three shift at the plant. We told him what we had heard and where it was. He smiled and said, “Well that’s because it’s Juneteenth.”
“What’s Juneteenth?”
“ Kind of a long story, but on January first, 1863 President Abraham Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation, freeing all the slaves, but it was in the middle of the Civil War, the war had not yet been won. So after the war ended President Lincoln sent one of the generals to Texas to enforce it. He arrived on June 19th.* Since then, that is the day the Emacipation Proclamation is celebrated in Texas, and it became “Juneteenth”.
“That might not even be a church where you heard all the singing, it might just be someone’s house where they met to celebrate. I’ll go back over there with you.”
He put his things inside. Then he got on my bike, I hopped on the back behind him, and with Susan on her bike, the three of us rode over to the bayou to listen to the music. Dad stayed there a few minutes with us, before we all headed home again. I heard they sang from sunrise until sunset. That is a history lesson I will never forget.
On June 19, 1865, General Gordon Granger of the Union forces arrived in Texas to enforce the Emancipation Proclamation, making the following statement: "The people of Texas are informed that in accordance with a Proclamation from the Executive of the United States, all slaves are free. This involves an absolute equality of rights and rights of property between former masters and slaves, and the connection heretofore existing between them becomes that between employer and free laborer." Celebrations of former slaves erupted throughout the state.
