[hoe_cake]

“To be fair, there were also lots of stories of “beloved slaves”,... .”

I am old enough to remember the relationship between Trudy, daughter of a family slave who was part of my grandmother Nanny’s ‘trouseau’ and my grandmother Nanny, and their 80 years of love and devotion for each other. They died within 2 weeks of each other. It was beautiful.

[MuttTheHoople]

In 1966 Mississippi, I was a four year old boy who got stuck in a bunch of briars while wandering around in the field. A couple of black kids pulled me out of it, then took me to their grandmother. I was so scared that I was crying the whole time (not because they were black, but because I was four years old and lost).

Anyway, the grandmother heard me say something about "Mrs. Simmons", a white lady up the hill who babysat us when mom went shopping on Wednesdays. She knew Mrs. Simmons and drove me up to her. I think what happened was that Mrs. Simmons and this old black lady somehow knew each other and knew that she would take care of me. I don't remember the age of the black lady, but I did know that Mrs. Simmons was born around 1880 or so. Mrs. Simmons got me back to my house.

There was a lot of racial discrimination and hatred during Jim Crow. However, there was also a lot of love between people.