reading

John R. Drish House in Tuscaloosa, Alabama

Historical Oberlin College, Cleveland, Ohio

The Ashford Family Ohio Homestead in the 1920’s

One – The Twins

Josiah rose from his seat, walked to the podium and shook the speaker's hand. He looked out at the assembly, paused to look across the room and smiled. He stood bolt upright and with his left thumb in his suspenders and right hand raised in the air, spoke to his colleagues.

His face turned to its characteristic resolve as he spoke eloquently and clearly:

"Speaker, esteemed colleagues, we find ourselves at a crucial moment. What we decide today will affect our constituents - our people, our citizens, our families - for the remainder of their lives and for the lives of their descendants to follow.

The great Ordinance of 1787 gave us a plan and guidance to follow. It provided land for schools. The schools were built. But education has been left to us - the great state of Ohio to resolve for ourselves. Much has changed since then; much has run afoul. I will speak to you about that today. We have the opportunity, the authority and the responsibility to change that, correct that and rectify that."

The room was silent in rapt attention. He continued:

"The intent of our founders was clear. We would establish a great nation to the extent of its boundaries, not even known at that time, where free men would live their lives and prosper under the grace of God, as no nation had ever done before."

Loud cheers and applause broke out and drowned Josiah's words. The speaker rapped his gavel for several moments and spoke out, "Attention! Attention! Call to order!"

The room returned to silence and Josiah continued to speak:

"Many of our aspirations have come to pass to fulfill our original ideals. We have turned around the subversions of our southern fellow citizens with the sacrifice of the blood and treasure of our people. Abraham Lincoln brought us to that eventuality and shall ever be remembered for the salvation and redemption of our nation."

The room remained silent in anticipation. He continued:

"Today we have many laws establishing the rights of property owners and for our citizens to vote and hold public office. Our schools are flourishing, our children are benefitting from this, and our country is improving."

They waited for his next words:

"But there is more to be done. There is always more to be done. We will never achieve perfection, but we must strive for it, reach up for it, as Americans and God loving human beings.

We have before us SR403. It will guarantee equal access to higher education for all our children without regard to the color of their skin. It will be based on the content of their character and our character. Surely, honor and integrity will compel us to pass this as the right thing to do. I urge you to vote for it in the affirmative."

Applause broke out one last time as Josiah returned to his seat. Assembly bill SR403 was passed by a narrow margin. It ratified and finalized the senate bill that preceded it. Citizens of all races would attend Ohio's educational institutions. Mary and the children understood that Josiah had played an important part in this change. They were proud of him.

- After Bondage and War, Josiah Ashford

David and Josena Ashford were born on May 17^th in 1870 as the twins of Josiah and Mary Custis Ashford. David was five minutes older than Josena. They were raised in Hamilton, Ohio and for years they had heard the stories from their father, his white friend David and their mother about the past – slavery, the Civil War and failed Reconstruction. They had heard that there was an older half-sister from their father’s tragic first marriage in Mississippi.

The twins’ names were chosen with care and purpose when they were born. Josiah had wanted to preserve important memories from the past. His wife Mary understood this, and because she loved him so, she lovingly agreed to his wishes for her children. It was not her history, but it was his.

For David Ashford, it was Josiah’s abiding friendship with David Wexley, the Union soldier from Baltimore. He had first met him in Natchez at the edge of the Big Muddy when David strolled over to him and asked him who he was.

Josiah had walked over there, just emancipated from the plantation Savannah Oaks nearby to the east. David had walked much farther from the east, just released from the Confederate prison camp called Andersonville in southwest Georgia. By either pure happenstance, or divine providence, they arrived there together the same afternoon within a couple hours of the same time. This chance meeting had profoundly altered their lives. It had set their whole lives on a trajectory of redemption and fulfillment. David would never forget their history or the history of his country.

For Josena Ashford, it was her father’s loving sad memory of his first wife, Josena Taylor Ashford and his lost daughter whose life and name he did know. Her father had had a brief marriage when he was a slave in Mississippi. She had been taken away and killed on another plantation in Alabama. It was a poignancy Josena would never forget, as though she had lived the life of her namesake – as though it had been her own life.

As fraternal twins, they had a similar general look about them. They were close comrades of thought throughout their whole lives. But from there they departed.

David grew to be tall and lanky. He was taller than his father but not so big and robust – more wiry. He had a sharp mind and a thirst for learning. After he had done that – learned – he became professorial. He was contemplative and reflective, but once his mind was clear, he would launch into long lectures to teach you what he knew and wanted you to know. He was always careful and skillful to avoid unnecessary confrontation if he thought it served no purpose. He was generally affable and gregarious.

Sometimes he would miss the mark, but was gracious when someone he respected pointed him in the right direction. That would be his sister.

Josena grew to be short and heavy – some would say dumpy. But she was not frowsy. She may have had to look up at you, but was always put together and immaculate, maybe elegant in spite of herself. She had a fat elegance once you got to know her if that makes any sense. It was about her mind too.

She was smart as a whip and self-assured. She never suffered fools gladly and would rip into you if she thought you were misguided or ignorant. David had to hold her back on many occasions for her own good and the good of the circumstance.

Together they reminded you of Abraham and Mary Todd Lincoln, had they not been a brother and sister of color from a more modern time.

They grew up together on a parallel path and supported each other as the alter egos that they were.

The twins began their college attendance in 1887 at Miami of Ohio University in nearby Oxford. The college had been built on land provided by the Northwest Ordinance. George Washington signed for the land purchase from the Miami Indian tribe and the village of Oxford was laid out in the college township. The original purpose of the school was to train teachers, so it was referred to as a normal school.

They took introductory level courses there permitted under a new pilot program for Negroes that showed promise. It was a program urged by their father, Ohio State Congressman Josiah Ashford. But the university had no intention of conferring degrees on Negroes. It was too soon for that precedent and they weren’t going to be the first. It wouldn’t be until 1905 before Nellie Craig would graduate there as a teacher and the first African American.

When Josie and David learned that they would never be permitted to graduate, they brought their concern to their father. Josie told him the program was a sham. She was more emotional about injustices than David and became more easily outraged.

Josiah was upset, but ever the pragmatist, he counseled them to apply to Oberlin College up near Cleveland. This prestigious college founded by Presbyterian abolitionists would provide them opportunity for any degrees they wished to pursue. Miami of Ohio’s time for equal treatment of the races had not arrived in time for his children. Oberlin was more established than Miami and offered the twins a broader selection of courses and degrees. It had worked out for the best.

Josie would never forget the slight she felt from the treatment she and David had received at Miami of Ohio, but would someday become a prominent professor there. She became more pragmatic as she matured.

At Oberlin, providence was kind to the Ashfords. Despite its abolitionist foundation, Oberlin was prominent as a Protestant conservatory of music with a white majority and few blacks.

David and Josena were a curiosity. They were different in the eyes of most of the student body. But as a curiosity, their classmates were drawn to them, not viewed as people to be avoided.

They were recognized as progeny of a prominent family with a father a powerful politician in the Ohio government. And they were Ohioans like Grant from Point Pleasant, the former general and president who had just passed away five years ago. No one viewed them as ignorant Negro farmers from Mississippi or Alabama.

David had a good sense of this and used his affable nature to form many friendships with his white classmates. Josena learned too that her father’s advice would be fruitful in forming relationships. They were colored for certain, but in this environment, that could be advantageous. They became that best of all things in college – popular.

When they stood beside each other, it was humorous – two such uneven fence posts. “How could they be twins?” their classmates wondered.

Their campus life grew to a point where they could discuss race openly, and they did so through many a long night of the brutal harsh winters near Cleveland along the southern edge of Lake Erie.

When David spoke of history, they wondered why it was not he, rather than the professor, standing at the front of the classroom.

Josena organized and led an all-woman string quartet to feature the beloved works of Mozart. Her second violin, cello and viola players from Illinois, New York and Maryland were young passionate white girls. And how they loved Mozart. Their music sparkled and filled their artistic souls. When Josena put her bow to the strings of her violin, she fairly took their breaths away. She held them speechless in rapture. Their throats tightened and their eyes shone.

Their college life was gratifying and it was painfully sad when they graduated and had to leave.

After they had graduated college and remained in their home area for a few years, they decided they wanted to travel into the Deep South to see what it had become now. They had learned in college the murmurings of an emergent movement for social justice and civil rights still denied to so many Americans.

And just maybe they might find their lost older half-sister who had been spoken about in such mysterious, almost mystical and even mythical, ways. Their sister’s existence was an enigma. No one knew about her with any certainty.

David Ashford was smart. And he was thoughtful and wise beyond his years. He learned early how to observe those around him and how to gain understanding. He learned from his father and mother and from his father’s friend, Uncle David. He absorbed all the knowledge available to him.

At Oberlin College he learned about history. He knew that those that didn’t know history could not think historically. Without that training, if would be difficult to understand the world and its meanings.

David learned that history study is a discipline that approached understanding like viewing the layers of an onion as they are peeled away. He learned about all the important facts – the events in the Classic, Old World and American histories. With this comes the understanding of the causes and outcomes, as event leads to event in succession. And with those events are the people positioned in power to drive the events – the game-changers. These are the facts, the outer layer of the onion. There is not much in doubt or dispute here. When assembled together, they form the first layer – the information.

With thought, discussion and reflection, David gained insights into the ideas of history as the next layer becomes revealed. Certainly personal perspective and bias begins to creep in with this step, but information becomes knowledge. He is a black man – an African American son of a former slave – and nothing would change that.

Finally, the ideas he considered are merged together to reveal the meanings. Individuals depart to different conclusions here as more perspective is invariably applied. But here, in this inner layer, knowledge ends with wisdom. His college education was more profound for him than some of his classmates because of his experiences in his formative years.

He came to understand that for many, truth is the facts that they choose to love. He knew that it is a mistake to look back at a period in the past and base truth on ideas and values of the present. Only by placing yourself in that past period can true understanding of those past motives, beliefs, events, causes and outcomes be gained. The truth is for those past people, their truth, not the truth of the observer many years after. David understood this as the purpose of history study. It helped him understand the present.

Josena had attended Oberlin College with David and graduated with her brother. She had studied the arts and the humanities. This brought a different perspective to her intelligence. Hers was based on sociology and understanding the nature of human kind.

She studied violin and became an accomplished musician. From the classics of Beethoven, she gravitated to the old sweet American tunes as Jefferson had played them at home in Monticello.

She was a black woman and understood she was different when white people looked at her with the prejudice of Social Darwinism, convinced she was inherently inferior. But she knew better and never suffered fools gladly. She used a sharp tongue when circumstance went beyond her limits.

David and his twin sister Josena had grown up on the Ashford estate in a life of comfort, but not one of ease. There on their land, the successful Ashford Furniture Company assured the family’s wealth. But they were black and never at ease.

The region surrounding the town of Hamilton had seen progress in its rural economy and in its societal improvement just in the two decades from 1870 to 1890 as the twins grew to adulthood. It would take many decades more before full civil rights and social justice would be realized. But it would come sooner than in the South.

Racial harmony was an entirely different matter. It couldn’t be legislated or forced. It had to come with the change of hearts. Old attitudes had to be unlearned. After the chains of slavery had been broken, the chains of hate remained. The twins knew this and were attuned to it more than their parents.

Racial prejudice was to be found everywhere. It troubled Josena more than David. He listened to her impassioned arguments with their father. Her emotional outbursts to the great man were common in their family life.

“White men are ignorant father. They have no basis for their stupidity”, she said.

Josiah, with his wisdom, tried to convince her that her attitude would never resolve it or change it.

He told her, “Never bow or scrape. You are entitled to your pride. You must maintain your integrity. But if you want to change their hearts, you have to kill them with kindness – but by using your intelligence. It takes time. I have seen it work in my life. You know I have made progress in the legislature with the white men I have worked with there. It wasn’t just about convincing them to pass legislation. It was also about winning their respect.”

And also, “My sweet, beautiful brilliant girl, remember always with pride, our relationship is special because your name is the same as the brave slave woman that was once my wife.”

She nodded in tacit agreement. It was something more she would have to learn.

Right from the start, David was reflective and thoughtful; Josena was reactive, impulsive and passionate. Both were resolute.

Two - Hanna

With a clarity of understanding and resignation Joe said, "Yeah, it's too late now for me to find her. But how can I forget her? I can never forget her. As much as my heart aches, I must find comfort in knowing that I have a daughter who was the result of my love for Josie. I can only pray that she will have the kind giving heart of her mother, and that God blesses her life."

"She will Joe, God knows she will."

After Bondage and War – Josiah Ashford and David Wexley

She was born on the Drish Plantation in Tuscaloosa, Alabama in 1856, six months after her mother was brought there and eight years before Josena would be accidentally killed there during the slave revolt. John Drish and his wife had treated her kindly, as they had her mother when she had been bought and brought there.

John Drish gave her her name, Hanna Drish, even though her mother had been Josena Ashford. Hanna’s father, Josiah Ashford, knew that his lost wife had had a baby girl before Josena was killed. He lived in the North and was never able to find her. He knew about her but never knew her.

Little Hanna was raised as a house servant like her mother had been. She was a happy baby, not as light in color and without the pristine beauty of her mother. But her little heart and pure soul was all Josena. Her smiling face brought happiness to the Drish household. Without any children of their own, they loved her as their own.

She grew up with the other slave children in the household and on the plantation. There was something bright and spiritual about her – like the glow from the Alabama sunset. It touched the heart of those that knew her. She reached out to others in her special childish way.

Following her mother’s lead, Hanna went to work and learned how to help out in the big house and minister to the slaves in their cabins. Together they tended the sick.

As she grew older, she began to ask a lot of questions as children do. She wanted to know who her daddy was, and where he was. Didn’t she have a daddy like everyone else?

Josena would hold her close and smother her against her breast. She sang lullabies to her softly, clearly, sweetly: