Address of Maurice A. Barboza
Tri-Chapter Dinner
George Washington, Fairfax Resolves, and George Mason
Chapters
Virginia Sons of the American Revolution
Army-Navy Country Club of Arlington, Virginia
May 7, 2004
Update
November 29, 2004 Compatriots and
guests, you may not believe what I am about to say.
So, I promise to tell the “whole truth and nothing but
the truth.” To some, my surname, color, and
heritage might seem to be a contradiction. But the
genealogical fact is that, like you, I am a son of the
American Revolution. Also, I am the son, and grandson,
of immigrants from the periphery of Africa. My
black ancestors, who were born in the United States,
likely, were free before the Emancipation Proclamation.
I am an 11th generation American through my
maternal great grandfather who arrived from England ten
years after the Mayflower. I am a non-hyphenated,
agitating descendant of ordinary citizens.
In the anemic history lessons of my childhood, I thought
setting things right was a duty imposed by the founding
fathers. Wiser now, I know it includes pruning the
still painful thorns concealed in their laurels, as well
as those passed on to their descendants.
For over 25 years, my mission has been to prod America
to acknowledge its collective history. The world
is entering a new era -- an era where power will emerge
from integrity, not from illusions, marching bands or
the barrel of a gun. In the acts of our ancestors
is the world’s richest source of the untapped vitamin –
integrity. It is time to discover real
American history. There is no more qualified, or
tenacious, a group than the Sons of the American
Revolution to fire the first volley. When I became
a member in 1980, no organization had ever welcomed me
so sincerely or made me feel so beloved. You
measured up to our ancestors’ best ideals whether or not
they understood them to apply to persons of my color.
The SAR’s acceptance of black members is America’s most
vital lesson in race relations. The SAR
supported a movement to remove the tarnish of slavery
and second class citizenship from the memory of black
soldiers and freedom seekers. With warmth, I
remember a surprise visit from three past Presidents
General to plan their support for the Black
Revolutionary War Patriots Memorial. Several Sons
in high places helped, including Senator John W. Warner,
deceased Senator Strom Thurmond, and former presidents
George H. W. Bush and Ronald W. Reagan.
Many Americans may think that all hereditary
organizations are alike, stuffy, exclusionary, and full
of pomp and circumstance. How wrong they would be
to prejudge the SAR. You accepted my heritage
without hesitation (within five months) once its
authenticity had been verified. All that mattered
was my connection to the American Revolution.
My eighth maternal great grand father removed, John Gay,
came to America inside acceptable white skin. At
least one of his progeny, however, chose to change his
descendants’ skin tones to a darker hue. My
grandmother’s color might have been described in runaway
slave ads, thirty-five years before her birth, as
“light” or “yellow.” But I know Ida Gay (later
Santos) inherited her kindness, stoic nature, and
strength equally from her white and black heritage.
Those qualities were perfectly transmitted to my
deceased aunt, Lena Santos Ferguson. However, only
her “brown” skin mattered when she repeatedly appealed
for full membership in the National Society Daughters of
the American Revolution, between 1980 and 1984.
After I had joined the SAR and suggested she join the
DAR, Lena said prophetically, “it won’t be easy.”
There is a fair probability that in the thousands of
interconnections of those generations that we are
distant cousins to someone in this room. Then
there is the prospect that one set of your ancestors,
and mine, were neighbors and friends. Perhaps they
stood side-by-side during some contest of the
Revolution, civil war, two world wars, or those in Korea
or Vietnam. In the family line, there are
Gays, Baldwins, Haweses, Nuttings, Wellingtons,
Thomases, Curtises, and Stinsons, among others.
I have two maternal great great grandfathers, one from
Virginia, the other from Maine, who were Union soldiers
during the Civil War. One was black. The
other was white. Perhaps the vision of
black kinship is what rankled DAR leaders about my aunt.
One local official said it would split up the chapter.
The then President General told the Washington Post,
"If you give a dinner party, and someone insisted on
coming and you didn't want them, what would you do?”
In contrast, when the D.C. SAR received my membership
certificate from the National Society (issued on April
16, 1980), I was invited to a luncheon to meet my new
compatriots – men of integrity, all of them.
Not all DAR members are alike, however. Lena was
embraced by a Florida member as a distant cousin.
She was descended from one of our 19th
century ancestors. I, too, was contacted by a man
in Idaho, named John Gay, who is descended, as I am,
from his namesake. Then, you should have
had the joy of meeting one of Lena’s DAR sponsors,
Elizabeth Edson Thompson. At over 80 years old,
she was a true patriot and fighter. In support of
my aunt, she chose to abandon her lifetime membership in
the Mary Washington Chapter. The chapter had
refused to admit Lena, even after she became a
member-at-large in 1982. Diverse families
are not unusual for black Americans -- neither are the
ties of friendship between black and white families.
Maybe one of your ancestors was the master of one of
mine, or theirs. But, one of your ancestors might
also have been a conductor on the Underground Railroad
or a lawyer or politician who helped a slave file a
freedom petition or law suit. Just as it is
wrong to prejudge a black person, it is wrong to
prejudge a white person and the spirits on their family
tree. Any project to honor the historical
contributions of blacks also will illuminate those white
patriots who aided, or simply, respected their struggle.
Moral courage of this nature was in short supply in
their day. Many founding fathers lived
contradictory lives. They were driven more by
their own prosperity, and politics, than by the
principles of the Declaration of Independence.
They were “kings” and masters of sprawling
domains, not farmers, laborers, and wage earners, like
us, and most of our ancestors. Whether your
forebears were sympathetic to the plight of those
forgotten black souls or not, it is your actions that
will influence how much respect future citizens muster
for the founders, American history, and each other.
Many DAR members, and their ancestors, came from humble
beginnings. But for years what the public saw was
a posh group. They behaved as if their connection
to the Revolution confirmed some special breeding --
superior to those of us who simply consider ourselves
“we the people.” A lot of women, black and white,
will feel uncomfortable in the midst of such a group.
Whether it started in 1939 or before, the DAR had a rap
sheet by 1980, as long as a ball gown. They had
the nerve to tell the world’s most famous opera singer
that Constitution Hall was off limits to black
performers. A woman of integrity, Eleanor
Roosevelt, resigned her DAR membership. An
alternative concert at the Lincoln Memorial drew over
70,000 people. Black contralto Marian Anderson
captured the nation’s conscience for generations.
It would have been simple, and less damaging, for the
DAR to have accepted my aunt without resistance.
White and black women with Revolutionary war ancestors
might have said, “maybe they’re not so snooty after
all.” Instead, the DAR chose to make things hard
on themselves and on my aunt. A front page
story in the Washington Post of March 9, 1984,
proclaimed, "Black Unable to Join Local DAR Chapter:
Race is a Stumbling Block." From the moment it hit
the streets, my telephone began to ring: Today
Show, AP, UPI, New York Times,
Good Morning America, 60 Minutes, Charlie
Rose, even Wall Street Journal. They
all wanted to know in what century the DAR was living.
“Is this what the American Revolution was all about?”
My unspoken response was “what took you so long?”
In the words of the inimitable George Costanza, “my
stupidity had finally paid off.” For two years
Lena had gone to teas and receptions hoping to enter the
DAR the traditional way – without making waves.
Her pleas for help to the National Society went
unrequited. My calls got a kind brush-off from
reporters: “call me when the story matures,” they would
say. The D.C. city council, however,
understood the implications of the Post story
immediately. The city sacrificed a million dollars
annually in tax revenue to the DAR. The expensive
real property between 17th and 18th
Streets was, and still is, a tax-free zone. At the
time of Lena’s rejection, the city was about 70 percent
black. No black citizen had ever been a member of
the DAR. The drama unfolded for weeks until
Lena’s law firm, Hogan and Hartson, could iron out a
settlement agreement. Signed on May 4, 1984, this
document enabled Lena to join with her dignity intact.
Although the DAR agreed to bar discrimination in
membership, the Continental Congress that April
considered an amendment to deny membership to a woman
who could not prove “legitimate” descent from a patriot.
As is the custom at those boisterous gatherings, there
was the traditional plea for “the rebel yell.”
The DAR was still barking up the same old tree: although
unsuccessful, the amendment was directed toward black
women. Many blacks are extremely hesitant to look
into the past, for fear of what they might find.
The sour fruits of slavery, such as miscegenation, makes
some citizens’ skin crawl. They run from, rather
than embrace, their history. A major hurdle for
The Patriots Memorial is convincing these 21st
century descendants of slaves that the memorial will
uplift them and not cause pain. When the
discussions began with her lawyers, Joseph Hassett and
Patricia Brannan, Lena and I knew that suing the DAR for
damages was not the way to go. No value could be
placed on either her rejection or the rejection of our
heritage. She was convinced there were many
decent women in the DAR. This was confirmed by her
20 years of active membership in the Elizabeth Jackson
and Margaret Whetten Chapters. After her death,
her husband James Ferguson said, “Lena grew to love her
chapter and the women. Even when she was near
death, she ordered me to pay her dues and show her the
cancelled check.” Lena did not want the
D.C. City Council to repeal the property tax exemption.
She talked about the good work: the scholarships, the
library and museum, the schools for native Americans,
and the perpetuation of the Revolution. We came up
with a solution that allowed the DAR to satisfy the
Council’s concerns. They would agree to identify
“all the black soldiers of the American Revolution,” as
penance and a way to attract black members –
particularly in the District. A
year into the agreement, however, we were baffled by the
lethargic pace. Four years passed before the first
thin state booklet was published. No progress
reports were forthcoming, as required. Without our
knowledge, the distinguished genealogist James Dent
Walker was terminated. Eventually, six
different Presidents General would snub our pleas for
urgency. There would be scores of letters
exchanged and meetings conducted, even as the DAR in
public symbolically supported The Patriots Memorial.
We, and the National Society, had a brief run of
cooperation. This included an inspiring march to
the proposed memorial site on the Fourth of July 1985.
The Prince Hall Masons, founded by a black Revolutionary
war soldier, marched. The SAR marched. Local
politicians smiled broadly along the route, from
Constitution Hall. These were the same politicians
who had wanted to take away the DAR’s tax breaks.
This was the best day of my life. Finally, all the
pain Lena and I had felt began to melt away. The
DAR later would testify in Congress for the memorial.
But, surprisingly, the National Society made excuses for
not raising money. Lena’s acceptance, the
black soldiers research, and the memorial were
opportunities for the DAR to shed its past, win public
acclaim, and attract a new breed of members – white and
black. Even the U.S. Congress had, at long last,
acknowledged the role of black patriots in the nation’s
Independence. As I scraped the inside of my
head for ways to publicize my aunt’s battle and the
black patriots, we suggested to Congresswoman Nancy L.
Johnson that she introduce legislation to honor black
soldiers and freedom seekers. President Ronald W.
Reagan signed historic Public Law 98-245 in a ceremony
in March 1984. Thereafter, Nancy, and then Senator
Albert Gore, Jr., enthusiastically introduced
legislation (now PL 99-558) to authorize my dream, the
Black Revolutionary War Patriots Memorial. They
were joined by scores of cosponsors, including
Congressman Charles B. Rangel. After 15
years, the soldiers identification project was still
incomplete. The former President General,
concerned about dinner guests, had promised to make Lena
whole. Since her 30s, and throughout this period,
Lena also battled cancer. As the DAR state
booklets were published every few years, gently, she
would tell me she still could not find her name, or
reference to her settlement, anywhere among the numerous
credits. Lena had wanted to write a
“Forward” to explain the research to potential black
members. She had felt the steely stares and low
chatter each time she dutifully entered the Mary
Washington chapter house in search of acceptance.
My aunt wanted prospective black members to feel
welcome. She also wanted them to feel they would
not be ostracized by other blacks -- that honoring those
black soldiers made their membership noble. Over
the entire period, from 1984 to 2004, Pat Brannan, and
her law firm, stuck by Lena without ever charging a fee.
Pat asked the DAR, once again, for an explanation.
The best the DAR would do was to bury Lena’s name in the
middle of the other credits when they published a
compendium in 2001. My aunt was 52 in 1980
when she first applied for DAR membership. She was
about to turn 73 when she received the last booklet in
the mail. Still, she was not made whole.
Before she died, at 75, she filed away in her papers the
unpublished “Forward” we had written. All of her
kind acts, and public remarks, about the National
Society had not been reciprocated. By 1999, the
DAR had identified only 1,656 black soldiers. Lena
and I knew there were many more. Using an
electronic spreadsheet, I discovered that the DAR had
missed hundreds of readily identifiable black soldiers.
These include ones with names rarely, if ever, given to
whites. The DAR also failed to use census records
to identify black heads of households who might have
served. They could have simply cross-checked them
against military records. Census records, also,
could have been used to identify soldiers from among
those whose military records were racially neutral.
Here’s an example: the military record of Cesar
Upton of Massachusetts does not list his race.
However, he is listed on the 1790 census as black.
Upton's first name also should have tipped off the DAR.
The first name "Cesar" was seldom given to whites during
the 1700s, but was a common name for blacks.
Besides that, the DAR applied such a narrow definition
to the term "black" that multitudes of soldiers,
described on muster roles as "brown" and "yellow," are
excluded and presumed to be "white." Slave masters
and newspapers of the period had used these terms to
describe runaway slaves. Pat Brannan again wrote
to the President General for an explanation. The
response was – the project is nearly complete and the
terminology is accurate. By 2000, we
applied some external pressure. I began calling
the media and posting press releases on the Internet.
I sought opinions from 16 outstanding colonial
historians. I searched the DAR Patriot Index to
determine if any DAR members had joined based upon
descent from a “brown” soldier. I sent the
President General a list of 300 possible names. To
her credit, she conceded that as many as 57 “brown”
soldiers were listed. The Associated Press
and others wrote about our displeasure with the
research. Without telling us, the DAR, apparently,
thought it best to go back to work. They found
several hundred more overlooked soldiers. Then, in
2001, the DAR added the new research to the existing
batch and published “African American and American
Indian Patriots of the American Revolution.” I
updated the spreadsheets. Still, the research
missed hundreds of readily-identifiable men. While
the DAR oddly clung to the narrow definition of “black,”
they did add some “brown” and many “yellow” soldiers, as
well as those with traditional black names.
“African American Patriots” now lists five soldiers
described as “brown” on muster roles. These men
are also listed in the "DAR Patriot Index" of proven
Revolutionary war soldiers. At least one of those
men, Solomon Bebe, sired two women who became DAR
members, perhaps before 1939. Historian
Benjamin Quarles had estimated that 5,000 blacks had
served. James Dent Walker, upon becoming the
project’s genealogist, said “Every estimate is
“deceptively low…. No one took the time to examine
the records.” Before his termination Mr. Walker
revealed, “neither time, money or personnel are
available to complete the research.” My estimate
is that Lena may have saved the National Society more
than $20 million by not encouraging the District to
repeal the property tax exemption. Even today,
District residents may not be getting their money’s
worth. In a June 4, 2002, article in the
Hartford Courant, "Injecting Race Into The
Revolutionary War," the DAR had no real defense to my
allegations. Recently, I was told by a writer that
they have conceded that “white” women had joined the DAR
on mixed race ancestors -- before my aunt and before
black contralto Marian Anderson’s rebuff. At the
time Lena applied for membership, the DAR boasted
a membership of around 250,000. There were 38
chapters in the District of Columbia. Today, the
DAR has only around 175,000 members, and just 12
chapters in the District. With Lena’s death,
unfortunately, there are no black members in the
District. I am offended each time a DAR official
pleads colorblindness when asked for the number of black
members. Lena’s settlement requires chapters to
track, and report to the National Society, the names of
black women who present themselves for possible
membership. The moment the Mary Washington Chapter
laid eyes on my aunt, they knew her color.
Once in the DAR, and while the black soldiers research
proceeded, Lena and I formed the Black Revolutionary War
Patriots Foundation. Eventually, we asked her
other DAR sponsor to sign the incorporation papers.
Later, I invited her to chair the board, which was
composed mostly of black people. A great
historian, and wonderful man, Dr. Benjamin Quarles, had
warned me: “beware of politics in a black institution.
Keep a journal,” he advised. By 1992, the
memorial was well on its way. Everything had been
accomplished except the final funding. There was a
coveted site reserved on the Mall, near the Washington
Monument. The preliminary design, as it appears
today, was approved. There was seed money in the
bank and a cadre of national supporters. But
friendship turned to spite -- cooperation to chaos.
Yada, yada, yada, I was, as a Washington Times
headline phrased it, “dumped.” Me, my dream, and
all the goodwill that Lena and I had worked to build for
the black patriots was washed away by vanity.
Because Lena was a woman of integrity, she resigned.
She made it clear that she thought the Board, and the
woman she had considered a friend, had made the
“unkindest cut of all.” Lena, now an active member
of a DAR chapter, was being forced out of a black
organization she had founded. Those men and women
had outdone the DAR. For 12
years, from the outside, I did all I could to make the
Foundation accountable and bring back integrity to the
cause. Gradually, they began to stew in their own
failures. Their pledges rang hollow, and they had
no personal story to interest donors. One by one,
they dropped out. Lena’s DAR sponsor is long gone.
The black general, who supported her, is gone.
Today, they have returned to me the dignity of a
Founder. They have welcomed back the memory of my
deceased aunt. Slowly, the old supporters are
returning. At this moment, I feel stronger about
this cause than ever before. Sometimes it
takes a lifetime to understand the meaning of a
struggle. All these years I thought I knew what
the memorial was about – it was a memorial to black
patriots. But not until after I began to think
about my conversation with Compatriot Russell Shearer
had I realized this is not a memorial about color.
It is a memorial about integrity. Although
my dream had been stolen, I came away with my integrity
and fire still intact. I had sold my house and
mortgaged my future to move this project along one
centimeter at a time. I had always admired the
beauty and simplicity in those words of the Declaration
of Independence, “we mutually pledge to each other our
Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.”
Now, even after the passage of 12 empty years, there is
renewed hope for The Patriots Memorial. And I’m
willing to take that pledge all over again.
For Immediate Release
Contacts:
Ladda Chang
– (202) 986-4590 – ladda@executivefineart.com
Felecia Vida Stovall
– (202) 635-7600 – fstovall@worldvision.org
WORLD VISION D.C. SPEARHEADS FAITH-BASED SUMMIT
TO PLOT NATIONAL FUND RAISING CAMPAIGN FOR OVERDUE
MEMORIAL
TO REVOLUTION’S FORGOTTEN PATRIOTS AND FREEDOM SEEKERS
Religious leaders will gather on December 2nd
for “An Evening of Unity” at historic Nineteenth Street
Baptist Church in Washington, D.C. to introduce sculptor
Ed Dwight’s design for the black patriots memorial and
spokesperson Mrs. Essie Mae Washington Williams, with
special performances by jazz sensation Marcus Johnson
and gospel recording artist Vanessa Williams
Washington, D.C.
(November 29, 2004) – Predicting that “this memorial
will have the most lasting impact on national unity and
the nation’s psyche than any other,” Clark Jones,
executive director of World Vision D.C., announced that
his organization is co-sponsoring a faith-based summit
on December 2, 2004, at 5:00 PM, at the historic
Nineteenth Street Baptist Church (4606 16th St.,
N.W., Washington, D.C.) to promote fundraising for the
Black Revolutionary War Patriots Memorial; examine the
scale model; meet renowned Denver sculptor Ed Dwight,
who crafted it; and introduce spokesperson Mrs. Essie
Mae Washington Williams.
“For the sake of future generations and the nation’s
children who are still forming opinions of each other,
and the nation’s past and future, we are dedicated to
mobilizing pastors and faith-based organizations to
endear this long-overdue project to all Americans and
finally see the bronze and marble structure rise on the
Mall between the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington
Monument,” Mr. Jones said.
Co-sponsored by the Rev. Dr. Derrick Harkins,
pastor of the Nineteenth Street Baptist Church, “An
Evening of Unity” will gather “100 Pastors,” faith-based
organizations, politicians, celebrities and national
associations for a “working session,” as he calls it.
“We’re going to roll up our sleeves, plot a winning
fundraising strategy, and trumpet the memorial’s message
of healing and reconciliation,” Rev. Harkins emphasized.
“African Americans and every American could be renewed
by the energy pulsating from the roots of American
history and this project. Everyone will benefit
spiritually, and in their daily lives, by seeing this
26-year struggle transformed into a national triumph.”
The memorial is the brainchild of Maurice A. Barboza
of Alexandria, Virginia. Research on his
multiracial family in 1978 led him to discover a white
ancestor who aided the American Revolutionary cause.
Once he had traced his black and white roots, Barboza
was welcomed as a member of the Sons of the American
Revolution. In 1984, after his late aunt, Mrs.
Lena Santos Ferguson, waged a successful four-year
battle to join the National Society Daughters of the
American Revolution, the pair pressured the D.A.R. to
identify every black Revolutionary war patriot,
organized The Black Patriots Foundation, convinced the
U.S. Congress in 1988 to appropriate hallowed land in
Washington’s monumental core, and recruited Mr. Dwight
to fashion their dream.
“To hammer home the memorial’s potential for healing and
racial reconciliation, Mrs. Essie Mae Washington
Williams, a project spokesperson, will be there to
symbolize how the hidden past can be revealed in a way
that unites citizens,” Mr. Jones said. Like the
forgotten black patriots and freedom seekers, Mrs.
Williams only a year ago finally was able to acknowledge
her true identity as the daughter of the former
segregationist Strom Thurmond and the Thurmond
family’s black maid, Carrie Butler.
“To be truly fulfilled, I feel that my story must stand
as a bridge between blacks and whites and serve as a
catalyst for continuing Mrs. Ferguson’s mission to make
black women feel whole by embracing the totality of
their family history and genetic material,” Mrs.
Williams said. The former Los Angeles educator’s
tentatively entitled book, “Dear Senator,” will be
published in January. She has accepted the
invitation of two Washington-area black members and will
join the D.A.R..
“Besides ownership of one of the most visible tourist
sites in America, the Black Patriots Foundation
possesses a singular artistic _expression – the
acclaimed memorial design by Ed Dwight,” Mr. Jones said.
“In the dozens of relief and freestanding figures, Ed
resurrects the spirit of 10s of thousands of runaway
slaves and over 15,000 black soldiers who fought for
personal liberty on both the American and British
sides.”
A one-fifth scale model of Mr. Dwight’s work will be on
display to view and photograph. The design has
been approved by all the local and Federal agencies that
oversee monuments. The sculptor said, “The
memorial’s two ascending and inwardly curving walls of
bronze and marble will form a dramatic plaza that
captures the sweeping vistas of the Washington Monument
and Lincoln Memorial. Visitors will finally come
to understand that black Americans were crucial to the
history behind those revered structures.”
Balanced on a knoll overlooking the seven-acre lake at
Constitution Gardens, the memorial will draw thousands
of tourists moving along the trail that connects the
Vietnam Veterans and World War II Memorials.
“There,” Mr. Barboza said, “Ed’s _expression will be
less a reflection of the past than it is a messenger for
the hard work and good deeds between citizens still
awaiting fulfillment.”
“Like me, I know that the thousands of unsung
supporters, who labored for nearly three decades, will
rejoice today that Washington’s faith community has come
to bat. This confirms what we always knew: that
our ancestors, who made freedom and the pursuit of
happiness sustainable, were worthy of our perseverance
and steadfastness,” Mr. Dwight concluded.
Special Performances:
Mr. Marcus Johnson, jazz sensation
Ms. Vanessa Williams, gospel recording artist
Special Guests / Photo Opportunities:
One-fifth scale model of the black patriots memorial
Mr. Ed Dwight, sculptor
Mrs. Essie Mae Washington Williams, memorial
spokesperson & daughter of the late Sen. Strom Thurmond
Ms. Wanda Terry, granddaughter of the late Sen. Strom
Thurmond
Frank K. Wheaton, Esq., attorney for Mrs. Williams &
foundation board member
Mr. Clark Jones, executive director, World Vision DC
Rev. Derrick Harkins, pastor, Nineteenth Street Baptist
Church
Rev. Barry C. Black, chaplain of the U.S. Senate
Mr. Maurice A. Barboza, memorial founder
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