Global Courant
The Blue family, Sacramento
Les Robinson had to leave a family cookout to unwind. A cousin told him to look up an ancestor on his phone: Daniel Blue. Robinson had never heard of him, but a search revealed the longtime pastor in the Sacramento area, who was an integral part of the region’s black community. Robinson learned that his great-great-grandfather had been brought to Sacramento as an enslaved man from Kentucky in 1849 by John Daugherty, his slave’s son.
Blue, 53 at the time, worked as a prospector and discovered enough gold to buy his freedom and become an entrepreneur, opening a dry cleaners and starting a church in his house and later a stand-alone structure. that church — St Andrews AME Church – was founded in 1850, and it remains the west coast’s oldest contiguous African Methodist Episcopal congregation. Blue also started a school for black, Latino, Asian American and Native American children.
And he bought real estate. A lot of it — 60 acres, according to Robinson, including nine blocks in California’s capital Sacramento, documents show.
That lot, Robinson said, today houses the California Railroad Museum, the Amtrak Station, Sacramento RailYard, the Sacramento County Courthouse and Jail.
But the question arises: “What happened to the property? We don’t know,” Robinson said. He said his investigation told a familiar, unnerving story – that the property had been taken.
Les Robinson’s great-great-grandfather, Daniel Blue, was brought to Sacramento as an enslaved man in 1849. Thanks to Les Robinson
“I was told it was taken because the railroad needed that land to complete the transcontinental link,” Robinson said. “So he actually got booted.”
And burned out, as harassment by whites who didn’t welcome liberated blacks turned violent. Part of the school was burned down and rebuilt before finally closing years later. Blue’s house burned down in 1869. There was also a failed attempt to burn down the church, Robinson said.
Mitchell said the confiscation of property – by citizens, law enforcement or the government – comes with an additional injustice that goes beyond impeding the wealth of generations: It destroys culture and history.
“Whether you’re talking about Harlem or southwestern Georgia, there’s often an erasure of important culture and history,” Mitchell said.
Much of what Robinson and others in his family have discovered has been documented in newspaper articles and other magazines, making it frustrating for Robinson that he cannot find any deeds or property documents. They have not yet presented their findings to state or local officials, preferring to do more research and hear what the repair task force has to say about seized land. But they are clear about what happened.
“It was clearly taken,” Robinson said. “He was a smart man. He wouldn’t give away more than 60 acres of land.” Robinson is working on a book about his ancestor that summarizes what it would mean if the land were returned to him and his family. Yes, he wants the land for its financial value, but also for its sentimental value. founded a church, said the revelations about his ancestor resonate in a tangible way. Looking back and seeing what his ancestor accomplished, “I see parallels in our lives – even if I never knew him,” he said. found, I met him – and we have the same mind. I do what he would want me to do.”
The Burgess family, Coloma, California
It was “exhausting” for Jon Burgess when he learned that an ancestor had been the executioner in the 1800s in Coloma, a small community about 55 miles northeast of Sacramento where his family line can be traced.
“That’s not something you want to see, and I floored it for two days,” said Burgess.
It was the price for digging into his family’s history. Burgess and twin brother Matthew have been floored for another reason over the past five years: In the family bible, where many black families documented significant moments in relatives’ lives, Burgess discovered that his great-great-great-grandfather Rufus Burgess was one of the state’s first prospectors and that he built wealth and bought land in California at the end of slavery with the intention of keeping it in the family for future generations.
Jon and Matthew Burgess with their family Bible.Thanks to Jon and Matthew Burgess
Using eminent domain, the city took up much of the 420 acres, Burgess said. Much of the land he wants to reclaim is Marshall Gold Discovery State Historic Park in Coloma.
Burgess has testified before the California Reparations Task Force, has posted short videos on Instagram about his family findings to inform followers, and has interacted with Governor Gavin Newsom on the subject. “I’m just trying to get people to empathize with the fact that we had a legacy that, according to those actions, would stay in our family for years to come. And yet it was taken away,” he said.
Burgess owns the title deed to the land, documentation that he believes when judged correctly will hold up in court, especially since there is no record of his ancestors selling the land, he said.
“If we didn’t have the deed, it would just be a different story,” said Burgess, a firefighter. ‘But we do. And the deeds can certainly tell a completely different story.”
What’s next for reparations
The story for all these families is not yet finished. They hope their collected documentation will produce a result similar to that of Bruce’s Beach in Southern California, where Los Angeles County seized land in Manhattan Beach that had been purchased in 1912 by a black couple, Charles and Willa Bruce. White residents petitioned in 1927 to have their resort for black people condemned and turned into a park. It was returned to the Bruce family last year. The family sold it back to the county for $20 million.
Things don’t parallel that of Bruce’s Beach, but it raises hope for these descendants, especially with California considering reparations in such an aggressive manner.
Burgess’s case has been recognized by the California task force as equally valid as Bruce’s Beach, and may be included in the final report and list of recommendations, which will be provided to the legislature at the end of June.
“Land and property are things that my pioneer ancestors didn’t sell or take for granted because they knew the value, coming from slave plantations that made others wealthy for generations — all behind land,” Burgess said. “Generational wealth means that my family and descendants would have the same, if not more, than the Bogle family, Veercamp, Gallagher, Del Monte and a host of others who came here before 1870 with nothing and were left to thrive – but also equal protection permitted by law.”
