THE STAINED GLASS WINDOW

Peering into the past—his own and ours.

In this epic telling, Lewis, the distinguished historian, examines the intersection of history with his ancestors in the South of slavery, Jim Crow, and the dawn of the Civil Rights Movement. The titular window stands in an Atlanta church whose pictorial rendering of the Gospels was “twinned with illustrations of the Negro’s emancipation and rise.” That rise, Lewis demonstrates, was long in coming. In his graceful narrative, interwoven with historical detail, Lewis pores over old census records to locate lost ancestors hidden away in the rolls of “one of the South’s grandest slaveholding dynasties,” one of the outposts of a system of enslavement that “functioned as a vast concentration camp from which flowed the enormous wealth that made the industrial North possible.” In that setting, Lewis relates meaningful stories of resistance, such as the mass suicide of a shipload of kidnapped Ibo warriors in 1803, an event sealed in the memory of the Gullah people in the Georgia isles but “quickly forgotten by white people at the time for its bizarreness.” The event speaks to the terrible irony of Georgia’s one-time, short-lived stance as the only Southern colony without slavery, thanks to the abolitionist views of Gov. James Edward Oglethorpe: after him, Georgia jumped full tilt into slavery, developing a culture in which racial mixing was prevalent but unspoken, even as the “one-drop rule” was enshrined. “The antebellum South kept its sexual history secret by enforcing the illiteracy of all but 3 or 4 percent of its almost four million enslaved people,” Lewis writes, but many of the photographs herein break that silence. Elsewhere, Lewis writes of his family’s pioneering roles in education and commerce, always requiring resistance to white supremacist power and “apartheid reality” that, Lewis makes clear, is ongoing.

Rich in family lore and historical fact, and a thoughtful addition to the literature of Black life in the American South.