In a book that is partly about unacknowledged debts, the acknowledgments seem to take on a greater weight because I am aware that debts can never be fully paid. But they can be acknowledged, as can the gratitude I feel at the completion of this project. But as this book has taught me, we are always forgetting our obligations and our debts. To those I’ve neglected here, even though you have nourished me, I am sorry. My mistakes are mine alone.
I owe a great debt to all the archivists who helped me discover the factual basis of my inheritance in what once seemed like the intractable past. I owe a special debt of gratitude to M. L. Witherspoon, who was essential to this project and always met my inquiries with patience and kindness. Jessica Douglas, an archivist and a friend, helped me work through digital archives when the world shut down and ultimately found the coroner’s inquest that followed the death of Peter J. Lemon. That handwritten document in the state archive helped open up the world of 1871 Clarendon County and what I believe is the cover-up of the murder of Peter J. Lemon. I could never have found it without Jess.
In writing about one’s own life, family, friends, and acquaintances become supporting characters, which is always a little unjust. This is a book about warped perspectives, so I am painfully aware that this presents the world solely through my eyes and my memory and that no one else in the book has a chance to respond. I’ve worked as a reporter for a long time, but this is mostly not a work of journalism. I changed the names of many of the people in this book because consenting to hang out with me in 1988 doesn’t constitute consent to have your name and business in a book. But you know who you are. I did my best to capture the world we shared. I am sure you saw it differently because that’s how life works and why we are different people.
There was some reporting involved in the book, and I did not change the names of historical figures or those who are public in some way. Which brings me to George Frierson. I owe a tremendous debt to him for the example he provided me with his work on the George Stinney case and the grace he showed me in our attempt to uncover a crime committed 150 years ago. When I first talked to him, I knew I was on the right path. Mr. Frierson, thank you for showing me how an obligation to the past can manifest in present action.
Various family members helped me greatly in piecing together our history. Though I tried to be open with my intentions, this may not be the book you were expecting. I’m sure you might have expected a lot more genealogy and a lot less autobiography.
Lottie McCowan sent me innumerable documents that were of great value to my research. Richard and Susan Woods have assisted me in my work in countless ways over the years. As I began research in state archives, they allowed me and Nicole to stay in their home for the month of February 2020. We had no way to know that the archives would be closed for in-person visits just a few weeks later. Because of the pandemic, that time was even more essential. Thank you.
Uncle Bully also contributed considerable insight and inspiration, sharing contacts and perspectives. Irvin and Nancy Woods, Gus Woods and Alice Stevens, Jay Woods, Trisha Woods, Michael Woods, Raynell Woods, Robin Woods, Bailey Woods, Trevor Woods, Jennings Woods, Ryan Devoe, Harry Devoe, Eric Mooney, and Dan Beaman have all helped me understand my inheritance in various ways.
So many people, including my dad’s brothers and their wives, helped as he suffered through ALS. None of us could have made it through the illness without the home health aides who assisted him, especially Stephanie, Mary Lou, and Shawna. Y’all were real heroes who helped us walk to the end.
My dad helped with the book more than he knew, and whenever a story came up, he’d ask, “Did that make the book?” He died just as I was finishing it. I wish you were here to read it. He, my mom, my brother, and I lived so much of this together. Mom and Chris, y’all are the only ones who knew some of these stories—and now I’ve blabbed it all to the world. At least I can say I always said I was going to be a writer. I love y’all so much and I am so thankful for all the ways y’all have loved me. I owe you so much, Mom.
The King family, my aunt Gaile, John Scoff, Sarah Blazer, Marilyn Alls, and so many others have been there for me. Grandmother Woods, Nanny, Summey, Mike King, and the others of earlier generations gave me glimpses.
I’ve learned so much from my students over the years. I’m sorry for when I failed you. Special thanks to Anthony Anderson, Jayro Cruz, Ayanna Brooks, Rajon Jones, Marsha Collins, and Brian Jerry, who have continued to teach me.
D. Watkins read nearly every iteration of this book, and whenever we traded manuscripts, I knew I needed to up my game. Your work prompted the best kind of competition, making me want to be better as a writer and as a person.
I ended up recording myself reading each chapter aloud and then listening back to it as I walked around the city, which proved an essential part of the book’s composition. I developed the technique in an attempt to re-create the energy of walking around and talking with Brandon Soderberg about the book we were writing together as I began to think about this one. And, since probably no one knows me better as a writer, his insight into this book was crucial. I’m looking forward to getting the band back together.
Laura Wexler, with her unerring eye for what is essential to a story, and Wil Hylton, with his critical enthusiasm, gave me much needed pushes at various points. The Barnyard Sharks gave me rhythm for my stories. Aaron Henkin, Ruby Fulton, Dan Pavlik, Michael Shank, Albert Garcia-Romeu, and Beth Harper, y’all rule. Wendel Patrick, Dharna Noor, Rebekah Kirkman, Lawrence Weschler, Lisa Snowden, Brian Charles, Lafayette Gilchrist, Kris Riddle, Chris Farmer, Kondwani Fidel, Devin Allen, Kim Rice, Wayne Polston, Issac J. Bailey, Frank Wilhoit, Eddie Conway, Gerald Dent, Marc Steiner, DeRay Mckesson, Kelly Davis, Erica Green, Ivan Bates, PFK Boom, Shorty, Mary Finn, Kevin Abrams, Levar Mullen, Clay Risen, Joanna Osbourne, Jeff Lewandowski, Natalie Kahla, Alex Orr, Damien Ober, Andreja Sisic, Davi Peterson, Patti Provance, Terrance Sims, Patchen Mortimer, Jaisal Noor, Eze Jackson, J. M. Giordano, Joe Formichella, Suzanne Hudson, Teri Henderson, Ailish Hopper, Paul Rucker, Sari Weissbard, Frank Wilhoit, and many others have supported me as I grappled with the ideas in this book. Thank you all.
This book would never have come to be without my truly top-notch agent and friend Brandi Bowles. When you called me after reading the revised proposal, it was one of the best moments of my life. I’m so grateful for your support.
Coming up as a writer, I read about people working with these great editors who really shaped their work. Krishan Trotman, you are that editor. When I wrote the first draft “from the outside,” you pushed me to make it personal and to write it from the inside—which was a lot scarier. You always told me when my work sucked, and that meant so much to me because I knew I could believe your praise when it came. You made the book what it is. I am forever indebted.
Amina Iro, Kathryn Gordon, Abimael Ayala-Oquendo, Mari C. Okuda, S. B. Kleinman, and the rest of the team at Legacy were a pleasure to work with, and the book wouldn’t be what it is without y’all. I’m so happy to be part of the team.
It’s strange that a dog could help with a book, but old Jang was my Night Editor. You were the best. Thanks for everything. Most of all, I need to thank Nicole, because no one has ever given me so much joy, insight, companionship, criticism, and love. Pretty much every day for more than twenty years now, you’ve challenged and fascinated me. Growing and changing with you is the greatest journey of my life. I couldn’t ask for more.
In many ways, this book is an attempt to reckon with myself. There are many wrongs not acknowledged here, of course, and I’m still unaware of much of the harm I’ve done in the world and of even more I have inherited. To everyone who I have hurt—I am sorry.