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Research & Revelations from the granddaughter of John Fields, formerly enslaved runaway with the spirit of entrepreneurship.

His-story inspires people of all races and walks of life. My great-great grandfather, John Fields, was a formerly enslaved runaway with an open heart and spirit of entrepreneurship. He lived passionately working and serving his community until his last breath at 104 years old.
— Kim Bettie

Thank you for visiting my historical journal and documented discovery of my great-great grandfather’s life lessons before and after enslavement. I’m sharing my research and revelations to inspire, motivate and transform.

You can click on the bolded links for more information about the research. And, click on the title of the blog to leave or read comments.


 
Posts tagged black history month
Blogumentary About My Great-Great Grandfather For Black History Month 2022
 
 
 

I decided to produce my first '“blogumentary” for Black History Month 2022. My blogumentary is a video project based on my blog, Research & Revelations. The purpose is aligned with my podcast, to inspire harmony within yourself and between others.

In this blogumentary, I contrast the accounts of his-story from two very different interviews I discovered were recorded at the same time in 1937: The Slave Narrative from the Federal Writers' Project and a Black historian who wrote an article for the Indianapolis Recorder.

Get ready for a journey of a lifetime as you join me on this virtual voyage, transformative time travel and empathetic excursion. I dedicate this labor of love to my ancestors. I can hear them singing, "This little light of mine, I’m going to let it shine," as I share my research and revelations about his-story.

 
Total Healing: Truth, Trauma, Triggers
 
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Total Healing: Truth, Trauma,Triggers

I recently shared my great-great grandfather’s story for Black History Month for Ingomu Learning, an APP based company where I will be going live virtual Diversity Inclusion workshops. I revealed some startling research I discovered about my Great-Great Uncle that I want to go deeper and give the backstory to my research in the spirit of Black History Month.

Researching His-Story and my ancestry has given me a better understanding of who I am and why often find myself vacillating between entrapment and empowerment; better known as flight or fight. I often feel this conflict when my freedom is restricted or my self-worth is disrespected. It also comes about when I see others, I care about, being mistreated too. Sometimes it is real and the feelings are warranted, but other times I am being triggered and blowing things out of proportion.

Deepening my understanding of the depth of my ancestors’ trauma and my DNA is helping come to terms with this dichotomy and have better self-control. I believe during these challenging times and division in our country, we are each being called to do the inner work that will give us total healing. Understanding our truth, trauma and triggers will empower us to stop and think before we speak or take action.

Of the past few years, I have made numerous connections and now historians in Lafayette, Indiana are supporting me in discovering the footprints of my great-great grandfather’s journey from enslavement, to freedom and beyond. Most of my research has been inspiring. However, this particular discovery stopped me in my tracks and silenced me for a while. Like it or not, it is my truth, trauma and trigger related to the political and social tension we are all experiencing in our country today. I must share it so that I can heal, and be of service during these trying times.

You see, I knew from reading the slave narratives that, at the age of six, Grandpa Fields was traumatically moved from one plantation to another and separated from his parents and eleven siblings. What I did not know was there was an unsolved murder mystery as part of his-story. I learned that my great-great grandfather’s brother, my great-great uncle Edward, could have been the impetus to this critical juncture in their lives. Uncle Edward killed their cruel master, Bob McFarland. You can read about it in the excerpt of the article from the Indianapolis Recorder.

 

The Rev. John Fields, of Lafayette, Ind., it an example of what Negroes of yesterday accomplished by thrift and industry. He was born a slave March 27, 1848, in Davis County, Kentucky. Although he is nearly ninety years of age, his mind is still active, and he can recall incidents of the slave period with great detail and accuracy.

His first owner was a cruel man named Bob McFarland. John’s brother, Edward Fields, killed his master when he latter attempted to whip him. John was then transferred to another master named David Hill. On Mr. Hill’s plantation John saw some of the evils of slavery. He says that once when his mistress was away for several weeks, Mr. Hill forced a little girl thirteen years old to have illicit relations with her master. Her mistress returned to find that the girl was In a delicate state of health. She insisted that the girl tell her everything, but the master had already forbade the girl to tell that he was the guilty party on pain of death. Then, to satisfy his wife, the master would take the girl to the woods, suspend her body to a tree and whip her until she was almost unconscious, trying to make her tell who was the father of her unborn child. When the child was born, as a penalty for her sins, the girl was sold and taken to the far South, where in the words of her master and father of her child she would be doomed to drink the waters of the Mississippi and pick cotton.

In 1863, the Emancipation Proclamation was issued, but it did not affect the status of the slave in Kentucky, hence, the masters of the Bluegrass State continued to hold their slaves until the adoption of the Thirteenth Amendment December 18, 1865. The Union officers, however, began to tell the slaves about the Emancipation Proclamation and to induce the Negroes to believe that the Proclamation was applicable to all slaves everywhere within the limits of the United States. Although he was a mere boy, John Fields decided that he would be a slave no longer. In 1864 he ran away.

 

I find it interesting that the article in the Indianapolis Recorder was written the same year as my great-great grandfather’s slave narrative by the Federal Writers’ Project 1936-1938 and Assembled by the Library of Congress Project work projects administration. Yet, there was no mention of his brother Edward, Bob McFarland or the plantation owners murder at all. The Narrative author only shared:

“When I was six years old, all of us children were taken from my parents, because my master died and his estate had to be settled. We slaves were divided by this method. Three disinterested persons were chosen to come to the plantation and together they wrote the names of the different heirs on a few slips of paper. These slips were put in a hat and passed among us slaves. Each one took a slip and the name on the slip was the new owner.”

However, I had also found a google book, History of Daviess County, Kentucky published in 1883, that included a mention of the unsolved murder of a Robert McFarland. Even before finding the Indianapolis Recorder article, I began to put the pieces of the puzzle together. The article confirmed my suspicion.

 
 

I can only imagine how my ancestors felt and processed the cruelty of entrapment and enslavement, and then the empowerment and guilt of the murder that cost them being together as a family. Yet, in spite of all of that, my great-great grandfather role modeled healing, sharing his truth and moving forward with his head held high. After all he had been through, he was still able to: find love and marry the woman of his dreams; unleash his entrepreneurial spirit and own unmortgaged homes that he rented; launch a Black Baptist church were he was a layman preacher; live healthy and active until he was 104. I wonder if he was able to do all of this because he was only six when he lived with his whole family so he barely remembered, or maybe it was because he had such a forgiving heart and was not bitter, or perhaps his faith allowed him to cry out and be made whole again. I can only imagine, as I may never truly know.

His-story can heal, unify and galvanize us
 
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Today (September 17, 1937), I am the only surviving member who helped organize the Second Baptist Church here in Lafayette, 64 years ago. I’ve tried to live according to the way the Lord would wish, God Bless you.
— John FIelds

His-story can heal, unify and galvanize us

(Click on the bolded links to see some of my research)

It’s been almost five years since I discovered my great-great grandfather’s narrative that captured his-story from being enslaved in Kentucky and his runaway to freedom and prosperity in Indiana. It was a miracle and unleashing of supernatural power that I will never forget. I was at a low point in my life. I was broken hearted, had a mountain of debt and was working for a bully boss that had me feeling oppressed. I cried out to God in my distress and immediately heard him say, “google your great-great grandfather.” Long story short, I did just that and it took me on a journey of self-discovery so powerful that I have been using his-story in my coaching process to heal, unify and galvanize others to remove the internal and external mountains standing in their way to progress.

It was near the end of the summer of 2015 when I learned that he was one of 2000 formerly enslaved men and women who had recorded a narrative. His-story was documented 1937 when he was 89 years old. Some of the narratives were audio, unfortunately his was only in print. There were countless blogs and articles featuring his-story too. In addition to the narrative, his-story was featured in many lessons plans (that have been removed?!?) in the Library of Congress for teachers to share with students focusing on building empathy about enslavement. I am taking the lessons I have learned and applying them to my life and integrating it into my coaching program. My clients are having aha moments after looking back at their own lives, and the lives of their ancestors. These aha moments will last a lifetime as we heal, unify and galvanize.

 
 
What a Mighty Good Man
 
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What a Mighty Good Man

In America we call it Smiling Depression, Professor Makoto Natsume in Japan calls it Smile Mask Syndrome (SMS). It’s when you spend so much time faking your smile you’re no longer aware you are smiling even in stressful or upsetting experiences. This was painfully true of my mother who was always crying and picking the scab of her emotional wounds. By the time I was three, my sisters and brothers were grown and had their own lives. I thought it was my job to inspire her. “Mommy it’s okay, everything’s going to be alright,” I would say over and over, using my little hands to wipe the tears from her eyes. She would tell me her hopes and dreams about leaving my dad, moving to Arizona and becoming a nurse. As I sat on her lap, in a chair in the front room of our house in Detroit, I would say, “You can still be a nurse mommy, you can still leave.” It was the 1970s, and we had one of those velvet pictures of a black woman with a single tear rolling down her cheek, hanging on the wall. That picture, was symbolic of mother. Even on her happy days, she would dance around the house cleaning and singing her self-made song, “Trust no man, not even your brother, if they must be trusted let them trust one another.” She taught that sad song to me, my two sisters and our daughters. Every tear she cried became a yellow brick I used to build a wall of protection around my own heart. Deep down, I was determined to prove her wrong. The harder I tried; the more I failed.

One night, when I had finally had enough, I cried out to God and he answered, “Google your great-great grandfather.” Wait…what??!!?? My grandfather died in early 1950s, well before the internet was invented. I opened my laptop and did a search for John W. Fields, out of obedience. I was shocked to find: articles; blogs, colorized pictures; lesson plans. His slave narrative had been recorded in 1937 when he was 89 years old. Born a slave, he ran away in 1864 when he was sixteen. He ran from Kentucky to Indiana after overhearing that slaves had been set free and his master had no intention on telling them. In spite of the trauma he endured, he married the woman of his dreams, co-founded a Baptist Church and acquired land. He was healthy and worked until he was 104 years old. He even built several homes on his land, renting houses to white people and living with them in the same neighborhood. 

For the first time, I felt at peace. No longer did I hear mom’s sad song in my head. Instead, I heard a song by Salt “N” Pepa, “What a man, what a man, what a mighty good man…yes he is.” As I drifted off to sleep, I wondered how my life might have been different if this was the song my mother would have sang to me about my great-great grandfather. I slept hard that night, and I had a dream. As I wandered through the wilderness, all of the bricks around my heart fell off and created a yellow brick road to self-discovery.

Excerpt from Black Beautiful Brilliant: The Black Woman's Evolution to Self-discovery, Peace, and Confidence

https://www.amazon.com/Black-Beautiful-Brilliant-Self-discovery-Confidence-ebook/dp/B07RT81VRM

If He Can, We Can
 
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If he can, we can

A few years ago I learned I had, as a legacy, one of the slave narratives from the survivors born into slavery. As I prepared to read about his experience I really didn’t know what to expect. What I read in my great-great grandfather's interview about his life formerly enslaved and as a free man, has impacted me more profoundly than I ever imagined. Through research and revelation I now realize that I not only inherited his resilience, but also his ability to keep open heart in spite of circumstances and his spirit of entrepreneurship.

My name is John W. Fields and I’m eighty-nine (89) years old. I was born March 27, 1848 in Owensburg, Ky. That’s 115 miles below Louisville, Ky. There was 11 other children besides myself in my family. When I was six years old, all of us children were taken from my parents, because my master died and his estate had to be settled.
— John Fields
I can’t describe the heartbreak and horror of that separation. I was only six years old and it was the last time I ever saw my mother for longer than one night. Twelve children taken from my mother in one day. Five sisters and two brothers went to Charleston, Virginia, one brother and one sister went to Lexington Ky., one sister went to Hartford, Ky., and one brother and myself stayed in Owensburg, Ky. 
— John FIelds
When my master’s estate had been settled, I was to go with widow’s relative to her place, she swung me up on her horse behind her and promised me all manner of sweet things if I would come peacefully. I didn’t fully realize what was happening, and before I knew it, I was on my way to my new home. Upon arrival her manner changed, and she took me down to where there was a bunch of men burning brush. At the age of six I started my life as an independent slave.
— john Fields
I immediately resolved to run away
 
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I immediately resolved to run away

What I believe is so remarkable about my great-great grandfather is his mindset on freedom. He understood the systemic implications of slavery, yet did not let it permeate his soul. He remained independent and steadfast in making something of himself and leaving a legacy. He was the kind of man who played by the rules until he realized he was being manipulated unjustly. Then, he found the resolve to throw caution to the wind and fearlessly flee.

At the beginning of the Civil War I was still at this place as a slave. It looked at the first of the war as if the south would win, as most of the big battles were won by the South. This was because we slaves stayed at home and tended the farms and kept their families.
— John FIelds
To eliminate this solid support of the South, the Emancipation Act was passed, freeing all slaves. Most of the slaves were so ignorant they did not realize they were free. The planters knew this and as Kentucky never succeeded from the Union, they would send slaves into Kentucky from other states in the south and hire them out to plantations.
— John FIelds
For these reasons I did not realize that I was free until 1864. I immediately resolved to run away and join the Union Army and so my brother and I went to Owensburg, Kentucky and tried to join. My brother was taken, but I was refused as being too young. I then tried to find work and was finally hired by a man at $7.00 a month. That was my first independent job.
— John Fields
We Are Family
 
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We are family

I decided to finally make a visit to the New York Family History Center and Genealogy in Manhattan to do research on my great-great grandfather, John Fields. Family Search has 4,600 local facilities in 126 countries where anyone can access genealogical records and receive personal assistance with their family history. These centers include the world-famous Family History Library in Salt Lake City, large regional facilities in places like Mesa, Arizona, and Los Angeles, California, and smaller centers that are usually found inside Latter-day Saint meetinghouses.

The Manhattan center was packed with people researching, Elder Adams agreed to talk with me and gave me a quick tour. I learned that the Mormon Church obtained copies of post–Civil War records created by the Freedmen’s Bureau. When the slaves were set free, the Bureau opened schools, managed hospitals, gave food and clothing and legalized marriages during the reconstruction era.  Elder Adams told me that by gathering the handwritten records on roughly 4 million African Americans., the project would digitized the footprints of those born into slavery. FamilySearch, along with the Smithsonian National Museum of African American History, galvanized organizations and people worldwide to help get the files indexed and digitized.

As my tour of the church and family center was coming to an end, I asked Elder Adams why on earth the Mormon Church cared so much about African Americans reconnecting to their roots.  As Elder Adams and I walked down the corridor of the family center together, he looked over at me and answered very sweetly:

We are all brothers and sisters in the afterlife.
— Elder Adams, New York Family History Center and Genealogy