The More I Learn, the More I Want to Learn
When I decided to publish some of my work, the first attempt went to contract with Bob Jones University/ Journey Forth. The editor told me it was “YA.” I had no idea what that meant. So, I took a class in YA Lit at Brevard College. I enjoyed it so much that when it was over, I wanted more. I enrolled in an African American Literature Class. I treasure all of what I learned in this class, and have been amazed at where that class has led me and where I’ve gone since, looking for more.
I took a self-guided tour this week created by NC Historic Sites. I used the guide and map and followed it through my town. It was the Harriet Ann Jacobs Tour. I read her own story, Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl, Written by Herself in the African American Lit Class. Hers was one of the slave narratives we studied. I’ve never forgotten her. What a surprise, after we moved to Edenton, to discover, or recall, that she was born into slavery in Edenton. When I took the class, I hadn’t yet heard of Edenton.
The NC Highway Historical Marker is in front of the Visitor Center, near the Farmer’s Market and across the street from Saint Anne’s, so I see it almost daily. In the Saint Paul’s Church graveyard, along the sidewalk, is the grave of Dr. James Norcom, Harriet’s owner from whom she ran and hid. His large home, where Harriet came to live at twelve years of age, is now the Baptist Church parking lot. Three rooms of this home are preserved at the Museum of Early Southern Decorative Arts in Winston-Salem, NC. I’d like to see them sometime. I’d hoped to see Molly Horniblow’s house where Harriet hid from Norcom in a tiny attic room for seven years, but it, too, is a parking lot.
The Courthouse that’s a block from my house and chimes the hours daily is the courthouse where Hannah Pritchard petitioned the Chowan County to emancipate Molly Horniblow, Harriet’s grandmother.
A pretty place in town is near the Sound where three roads oddly end. There’s flowers and a soldiers’ memorial there. I learned this was the site of the Market House. Goods of all kinds were sold here, including slaves.
In 1842, when Harriet escaped to New York, it was from here on the Bay Harbor which came to be known as the Maritime Underground Railroad site. I visit with fishermen here, black and white, and the tour boat leaves from here. I posted a photo on Face book just last week! It was one of Buddy’s favorite hangouts.
Beyond the Bay is a mysterious looking, I think pretty, wood/swamp. It has cypress trees and knees. I learned this was the snake-infested swamp Harriet hid in while her hiding place was being fixed at her grandmother’s.
Hers is a beautiful, well-crafted, very literary-styled book. This, in a time when slaves weren’t allowed by law to read and write. The first two publishers she tried went bankrupt. She then purchased the plates of her book and self-published it in 1861. She died in Washington, D.C. in 1897, and is buried in Cambridge, MA. I’m happy I learned about her, then learned more.