I was thinking today of the time when there was a large gathering held at Uncle Mac's house when I was a little boy. I was completely awed by it with tens upon tens of relatives present-including Uncle Lawrence. Uncle Mac's house, he is dead now, is a beautiful brick home situated in the middle of a clearing just off of the road and I always felt comfortable there and enjoyed the good smells to be experienced there, like the scent of the burning wood in the huge fireplace in his living room. That particular day, I don't remember the occasion, but I remember that Uncle Mac slaughtered a hog(I'm so glad I didn't see it) and made a pit out in the middle of the yard wear it slowly roasted. I remember there was tons of food and lots of merriment being made. I can't remember what the occasion was. Uncle Mac, my grandmother's second cousin, was a humourous, red-boned man, not much in height, but very tall in stature.

He always spoke like a drunken Irishman(partially because he often was drunk)and did not like talking about the past, especially family stuff, which he called "digging up bones" (much due to the fact that there were definitely some bones to be dug up in his family, but that we won't get into). Uncle Mac was a delightful character--whimsical and always willing to tell the truth(although certain topics he did not breach--"digging up bones." He was also very industrious. He grew corn and raised hogs on his family's property up until he died at almost ninety.

You could tell Uncle Mac had plenty of white blood just by looking at him(and even more so by looking at his brothers--who could have passed for white any day of the week--or at least as Jews). Uncle Mac was also our family's connecting point to our white relatives. It was nothing on any given day for the old man Rawlinson to be at Uncle Mac's house or for Uncle Mac to be at his house, either place both high on moonshine. They addressed each other as cousins(and we acknowledge them as cousins as well) and the Rawlinsons have been quite open and forthcoming in sharing the records from their family with us including old slave rolls, etc.

Uncle Mac's mother was my great-grandmother's first cousin, Jeroma, both of them granddaughters of Caroline Roper and Greenberry Smith. His father was a mulatto named Jack. Uncle Mac was a magnificent man. He was a life-long member of our family church and an integral part of our extended relations. His death was very deeply felt.

Uncle Mac's brother, Uncle Wade, was also a great figure.he is now deceased. He and Uncle Lawrence used to have long, philosophical and historical discussions and debates. They were intellectual sparring partners. Uncle Wade was a historian as well, a graduate of Wayne State University(which he always heralded). I never had many significant discussions with Uncle Wade, but he did leave me many of his things when he died to which I am very grateful. I am very grateful that I did have the opportunity to talk with Uncle Lawrence a great deal. I have some beautiful relations and I am very glad to have them.