One hundred and eight years ago my father Joseph Archer Todd, Sr. was born in a tenant farmers shack on the McGee farm. His grandfather Lucius Todd lived on the farm that bordered the McGee farm. His grandmother was Minnie McGee Todd, and she was a hard-shell Baptist, and had not spoken to her mother Mattie Jones McGee since she had given birth to a biracial baby sometime after 1883. Mattie’s husband was damaged by the Civil War, and would die in the State Mental Hospital in 1891. She was homeless at the time my father was born. My father’s father was Frank Addison Todd. He had been named for an uncle who traveled the wild west. Ad Todd died in the west. He was also named for his grandfather Julius Franklin McGee who had died in the State Mental Hospital. His mother was Bertha Viola Price Todd, and where she got her name, I have no idea. I do know that I am glad I did not inherit that name.
Da had a twin sister Ida Elizabeth Todd. Da got his name from his two grandfathers Lucius Archer Todd and Lucius Joseph Price. Aunt Lit got her name from Elizabeth Ann “Minnie” McGee Todd and Ida Tolitha Ozment Price. The twins were tiny and were born with no hair and no fingernails or toenails. My mother Mary Louise Rainey Todd was carried by her mother Ina Estelle Stuart Rainey to see the tiny babies. I remember Da teasing Ma that she came a-courting him when she was six weeks old. They did not see each other again until they were 17 years old in 1932 when someone had died. Da was asked to ride to a country store to pick up something and he asked Micky (the name Ma was called back then) to ride with him. They began to court after that but they would not marry until 1936.
Frank Todd murdered a black man named Utz Earle in Anderson County, South Carolina on October 20, 1920. (I used in the murder of Claude Dubose by Sardis’s father Rex Runion October 20, 1936, to honor the death of Utz Earle. My heart still grieves for his family.) Frank Todd was sexually abusing Utz Earle’s daughter Snowbird who was a maid for the family when they lived on Broadway Lake. Da’s first memory of his father being arrested. Frank Todd went to locate Snowbird and saw Mr. Earle in his garden hoeing. Mr. Earle held up his hoe to protect himself, and Frank Todd shot and killed him. Da said to me many a time, “A man who carries a gun with him all the time will kill someone or be killed by one.” All of this my father kept secret. He said nothing about his father. In fact, he went to his death apologizing for who his father was. When he bought the land that once belonged to his grandfather Lucius Todd, my father took a bulldozer and knocked it down. It was at that house my grandfather was arrested. My father not only carried emotional scars from his childhood but one physical one. He had a knot on the back of his head that worried me as a child. After my father died, his sister Martha told me that their father had hit my father with an ax which caused that knot. He had keloids like I have them and my cousin Elaine, Aunt Martha’s daughter.
On April 10, 1921, Frank Todd was convicted by twelve white men of manslaughter of an African American. I searched the records and found part of his testimony and he was a cruel harsh man. He was also a binge alcoholic. He was drunk when he shot Utz Earle. I think it was cold blooded murder and he should have got more time than three to five years. The Judge thought so also because he said that Frank Todd deserved the maximum crime and maximum sentence, but he was afraid that no one would convict a white man for harming a “colored man” if he did.
The spring before he died Da told me the truth of the murder and told me he had lied all his life. He had and at that moment I felt like chains of guilt had been passed down to me. Da and his sisters spent about four years of their childhood living in tents moving around the state while his father was incarcerated, and his mother was a cook and laundress for the chain gang. Da’s two sister slept in the heated tent with their parents, but he slept in the supply tent.
By the time he met my mother, he was living on this land I now live on with his grandmother Minnie McGee. His grandfather died about a year after Frank’s arrest. The farm was left to my father who was a minor at the time. It was bigger then. There is a dairy farm on part of that land and also a field that belongs to one of my Todd cousins who happens to be also a Rainey cousin.
After meeting my mother, they courted for a long time. It was the Great Depression, and unfortunately, Da had dropped out of school in high school when he was sixteen years old. In 1934 or thereabout he joined the Civilian Conservation Corp and went to camp Pearson in Parr, South Carolina. He made extra money boxing at the camp on weekends. He won many of those fights. He loved boxing all of his life.
Da had a twin sister Ida Elizabeth Todd. Da got his name from his two grandfathers Lucius Archer Todd and Lucius Joseph Price. Aunt Lit got her name from Elizabeth Ann “Minnie” McGee Todd and Ida Tolitha Ozment Price. The twins were tiny and were born with no hair and no fingernails or toenails. My mother Mary Louise Rainey Todd was carried by her mother Ina Estelle Stuart Rainey to see the tiny babies. I remember Da teasing Ma that she came a-courting him when she was six weeks old. They did not see each other again until they were 17 years old in 1932 when someone had died. Da was asked to ride to a country store to pick up something and he asked Micky (the name Ma was called back then) to ride with him. They began to court after that but they would not marry until 1936.
Frank Todd murdered a black man named Utz Earle in Anderson County, South Carolina on October 20, 1920. (I used in the murder of Claude Dubose by Sardis’s father Rex Runion October 20, 1936, to honor the death of Utz Earle. My heart still grieves for his family.) Frank Todd was sexually abusing Utz Earle’s daughter Snowbird who was a maid for the family when they lived on Broadway Lake. Da’s first memory of his father being arrested. Frank Todd went to locate Snowbird and saw Mr. Earle in his garden hoeing. Mr. Earle held up his hoe to protect himself, and Frank Todd shot and killed him. Da said to me many a time, “A man who carries a gun with him all the time will kill someone or be killed by one.” All of this my father kept secret. He said nothing about his father. In fact, he went to his death apologizing for who his father was. When he bought the land that once belonged to his grandfather Lucius Todd, my father took a bulldozer and knocked it down. It was at that house my grandfather was arrested. My father not only carried emotional scars from his childhood but one physical one. He had a knot on the back of his head that worried me as a child. After my father died, his sister Martha told me that their father had hit my father with an ax which caused that knot. He had keloids like I have them and my cousin Elaine, Aunt Martha’s daughter.
On April 10, 1921, Frank Todd was convicted by twelve white men of manslaughter of an African American. I searched the records and found part of his testimony and he was a cruel harsh man. He was also a binge alcoholic. He was drunk when he shot Utz Earle. I think it was cold blooded murder and he should have got more time than three to five years. The Judge thought so also because he said that Frank Todd deserved the maximum crime and maximum sentence, but he was afraid that no one would convict a white man for harming a “colored man” if he did.
The spring before he died Da told me the truth of the murder and told me he had lied all his life. He had and at that moment I felt like chains of guilt had been passed down to me. Da and his sisters spent about four years of their childhood living in tents moving around the state while his father was incarcerated, and his mother was a cook and laundress for the chain gang. Da’s two sister slept in the heated tent with their parents, but he slept in the supply tent.
By the time he met my mother, he was living on this land I now live on with his grandmother Minnie McGee. His grandfather died about a year after Frank’s arrest. The farm was left to my father who was a minor at the time. It was bigger then. There is a dairy farm on part of that land and also a field that belongs to one of my Todd cousins who happens to be also a Rainey cousin.
After meeting my mother, they courted for a long time. It was the Great Depression, and unfortunately, Da had dropped out of school in high school when he was sixteen years old. In 1934 or thereabout he joined the Civilian Conservation Corp and went to camp Pearson in Parr, South Carolina. He made extra money boxing at the camp on weekends. He won many of those fights. He loved boxing all of his life.
My father when he married my mother
His first job was working with the state of South Carolina. He worked on the main street of Greenwood, South Carolina. He went to Lancaster, SC about the time my brother Jimmy was born on the Todd Farm 1937. He was not happy there. He moved back to live in Anderson, SC. They lived on South Main close to where Roy’s Diner is now. I don’t know when he began to write poetry, but it was when he was courting Ma. Around 1939, he went to work for the Bureau of Public Roads. He would retire in 1973 when it was called the Federal Highway Administration. In 1941, my brother Gary was born at the Rainey farm. My father was not drafted for World War II until March 1, 1944, the day my brother Joe was born at the Todd farm. It is the reason he was named after my father. Da was not long in the military because he was back working on the farm in the summer of 1944 and the family was living with his parents.
He left the military early due to what appeared to be a heart attack. After he died, Ma told me that Da was a gentle soul and going to war would have destroyed him, and she believed he had a panic attack. He did have Polycystic Kidneys, but it would not be until ten years before he died that we found out that he had the disease. Grannie, his mother, convinced him to take care of the farm because Papa Frank was abusing alcohol more and more. I had this dream and told it to my mother, and she looked at me strangely- how did you know that, and I said, “I just do.” Ma then told me what had happened at that time.
Two men from Washington, DC came down to the farm to speak with my father. They told him he would come back as a Civil Engineer. They were working it out for him to stand with the class of Clemson University to say he was in the graduating class which he wasn’t. Supposedly there was a letter concerning this. I have not found it. But he also had to take the test which they arranged for him to take, and he passed, and no one surpassed his score on the exam. He would be moving to the Gatlinburg office. He did not immediately commit because his mother wanted him to stay and take care of the farm. This is what my dream was about which happened within days of the two men coming to see my father. “I saw my father having completed the harvest and sold it the day before and there was his father having drank up part of the money my father had made. Papa Frank was lying on the couch pissing on himself, and my father was angry, and told his mother that he was leaving to go to the federal job.” He contacted them the next day and all the above was put into motion. Why they need my father I have no idea.
I recently found papers that after Papa Frank died in 1946, Grannie had tried to get him to move back to South Carolina to take care of her. I saw an application that was never sent to South Carolina where Da was applying for a job at that time. I am sure Ma put her foot down. Grannie was very unkind to my mother, treating her like trash in those times it was just the two of them but acting like a loving mother-in-law when anyone else was present. She was also a very cruel grandmother to me. Forgiving her was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I often witnessed how she treated my mother, but my mother was always kind to her.
Grannie would do it one more time when Ma was pregnant with me. She tried to make my father leave my mother and his family. He refused. She was working at the time, but soon after this refusal, she quit and began living off her children. She spent about eight months with us and two with Aunt Lit and two with Aunt Martha. In 1958, Grannie pressured Da to sell the farm to Aunt Martha and Uncle John B. (who was Ma’s younger brother). Their house was in bad condition, and the McGee who was on the farm loans refused to give them a loan unless they had more land. Papa Rainey, Ma’s father refused, but Da relented and sold it to them with the stipulation that he got to buy it back. In the mid-1960s, he was able to buy the forest back where I live. Uncle John B. had died.
His first job was working with the state of South Carolina. He worked on the main street of Greenwood, South Carolina. He went to Lancaster, SC about the time my brother Jimmy was born on the Todd Farm 1937. He was not happy there. He moved back to live in Anderson, SC. They lived on South Main close to where Roy’s Diner is now. I don’t know when he began to write poetry, but it was when he was courting Ma. Around 1939, he went to work for the Bureau of Public Roads. He would retire in 1973 when it was called the Federal Highway Administration. In 1941, my brother Gary was born at the Rainey farm. My father was not drafted for World War II until March 1, 1944, the day my brother Joe was born at the Todd farm. It is the reason he was named after my father. Da was not long in the military because he was back working on the farm in the summer of 1944 and the family was living with his parents.
He left the military early due to what appeared to be a heart attack. After he died, Ma told me that Da was a gentle soul and going to war would have destroyed him, and she believed he had a panic attack. He did have Polycystic Kidneys, but it would not be until ten years before he died that we found out that he had the disease. Grannie, his mother, convinced him to take care of the farm because Papa Frank was abusing alcohol more and more. I had this dream and told it to my mother, and she looked at me strangely- how did you know that, and I said, “I just do.” Ma then told me what had happened at that time.
Two men from Washington, DC came down to the farm to speak with my father. They told him he would come back as a Civil Engineer. They were working it out for him to stand with the class of Clemson University to say he was in the graduating class which he wasn’t. Supposedly there was a letter concerning this. I have not found it. But he also had to take the test which they arranged for him to take, and he passed, and no one surpassed his score on the exam. He would be moving to the Gatlinburg office. He did not immediately commit because his mother wanted him to stay and take care of the farm. This is what my dream was about which happened within days of the two men coming to see my father. “I saw my father having completed the harvest and sold it the day before and there was his father having drank up part of the money my father had made. Papa Frank was lying on the couch pissing on himself, and my father was angry, and told his mother that he was leaving to go to the federal job.” He contacted them the next day and all the above was put into motion. Why they need my father I have no idea.
I recently found papers that after Papa Frank died in 1946, Grannie had tried to get him to move back to South Carolina to take care of her. I saw an application that was never sent to South Carolina where Da was applying for a job at that time. I am sure Ma put her foot down. Grannie was very unkind to my mother, treating her like trash in those times it was just the two of them but acting like a loving mother-in-law when anyone else was present. She was also a very cruel grandmother to me. Forgiving her was one of the hardest things I have ever done. I often witnessed how she treated my mother, but my mother was always kind to her.
Grannie would do it one more time when Ma was pregnant with me. She tried to make my father leave my mother and his family. He refused. She was working at the time, but soon after this refusal, she quit and began living off her children. She spent about eight months with us and two with Aunt Lit and two with Aunt Martha. In 1958, Grannie pressured Da to sell the farm to Aunt Martha and Uncle John B. (who was Ma’s younger brother). Their house was in bad condition, and the McGee who was on the farm loans refused to give them a loan unless they had more land. Papa Rainey, Ma’s father refused, but Da relented and sold it to them with the stipulation that he got to buy it back. In the mid-1960s, he was able to buy the forest back where I live. Uncle John B. had died.
My father built and designed many of the major parkways or roads in parks. He did the Blue Ridge Parkway which was his heart. I heard him battle with the owner of Grandfather Mountain, and though he respected his tenacity, he knew that it was what was keeping the Parkway from being finished. When he was retiring, he recommended they build a viaduct around Grandfather Mountain for that reason. He was invited to the viaduct’s dedication in October 1987. A month later he died for the road he loved so much was complete.
Other roads he worked on was Everglades, Gunflint Trail, Mammoth Cave, Great Smokey Mountains, Gatlinburg by-pass, various foothills parkways, the road to nowhere, Cumberland Falls parkway and the Pan American Highway in Chili, South America. He worked on roads in Minnesota, Michigan, and Wisconsin that I do not know. I grew up playing in the dirt and gravel of many of these parkways. I knew my brothers did also. Da visited his work often on weekends.
In the fifties, he trained men from around the world. He also trained men from across the country. He set up a weekly program for them to be teachers of each other. All the men were expected to do this. He was a mento to all these men. We had at our table to eat men from all races and many religions, and also to work on our dining room table which cost my mother $25 back in the 40s. Ma served them graciously those days, and I grew up with these men and if I had not been dyslexic, I would probably been a civil engineer like my father. We got letters from these men for decades. I came across cards from Chili, Taiwan and in the slides, I found a picture of Mr. Hison from the Philippines. I broke into a smile because at six, I wanted to go home with him. He gave me earrings for me to wear when I got grown. I still have those earrings.
It has been me going through Da’s hundreds of slides, mostly of his work and his love of wildflowers that led me to write this about him today. He was a kind soul. He had his faults, but overall, he was kind and a very hard worker. In his retirement he rallied the members of the Ruhamah Methodist Church to build their church. The first Sunday in that church was Easter Sunday 1977. He grew a huge garden, and I grew the plants in a greenhouse. He often spoke at colleges and garden clubs about wildflowers.
I miss him. I love him still, and often I have wanted to talk to him. But in my heart, I hear his wisdom. I also know of his four children I was most like him. I am also the only member left of my family. When I turn 73 in two years, I will have outlived him. I have already outlived my brothers. I doubt I will outlive my mother since she died at 93.
Happy Birthday Da… I will see you one day, but I have a long life to live for I plan to make 90. I love you dearly, and what a wonderful childhood you gave me. It helped to balance out all the bad things.
Other roads he worked on was Everglades, Gunflint Trail, Mammoth Cave, Great Smokey Mountains, Gatlinburg by-pass, various foothills parkways, the road to nowhere, Cumberland Falls parkway and the Pan American Highway in Chili, South America. He worked on roads in Minnesota, Michigan, and Wisconsin that I do not know. I grew up playing in the dirt and gravel of many of these parkways. I knew my brothers did also. Da visited his work often on weekends.
In the fifties, he trained men from around the world. He also trained men from across the country. He set up a weekly program for them to be teachers of each other. All the men were expected to do this. He was a mento to all these men. We had at our table to eat men from all races and many religions, and also to work on our dining room table which cost my mother $25 back in the 40s. Ma served them graciously those days, and I grew up with these men and if I had not been dyslexic, I would probably been a civil engineer like my father. We got letters from these men for decades. I came across cards from Chili, Taiwan and in the slides, I found a picture of Mr. Hison from the Philippines. I broke into a smile because at six, I wanted to go home with him. He gave me earrings for me to wear when I got grown. I still have those earrings.
It has been me going through Da’s hundreds of slides, mostly of his work and his love of wildflowers that led me to write this about him today. He was a kind soul. He had his faults, but overall, he was kind and a very hard worker. In his retirement he rallied the members of the Ruhamah Methodist Church to build their church. The first Sunday in that church was Easter Sunday 1977. He grew a huge garden, and I grew the plants in a greenhouse. He often spoke at colleges and garden clubs about wildflowers.
I miss him. I love him still, and often I have wanted to talk to him. But in my heart, I hear his wisdom. I also know of his four children I was most like him. I am also the only member left of my family. When I turn 73 in two years, I will have outlived him. I have already outlived my brothers. I doubt I will outlive my mother since she died at 93.
Happy Birthday Da… I will see you one day, but I have a long life to live for I plan to make 90. I love you dearly, and what a wonderful childhood you gave me. It helped to balance out all the bad things.