Although, I am unable to prove these right as a decedent, I have heard many stories told by my father.
He said his father married a freed slave and took her last name (Tucker) to pay for a farm in Norfork, Virginia. My grandfather was a very proud Indian who every one called him Mr.Red.
On this farm he raised six sons and 2 daughters. All his son at the age of 14 left the farm to adventure into the big city, New York.
That is where my father said he always wanted to go when he turned 15. My grandfather forbid it being he was the youngest and the last son to help with the farm. He had at that time only two younger sisters left at home.
Finally, at the age of seventeen, he ran away from home and headed to the big city.
He left his family and history to be a city boy in New York.The rest is history.
He never spoke much about our grandfather, just our grandmother. She was a beautiful freed slave, educated, God fearing and a loving woman. I am proud to say, I was named after her.
As a child my father told me I was much like her.
Me (at 16 years old)
As I grow up, I always wondered about my grandfather! Who he was and how he grow up? What was a Cherokee anyway? After attending my first Indian Pow Wow, about two years ago. I have been studying the history and trying to trace my Indian ancestry. Even with the help of many Indian Groups and Organization, it has been to no avail.
I still get a sense of belonging every time I attend a Pow Wow. It's not like reenacting someone's life and time. It's reconnecting to my own past life and time. I enjoy the sound of the drums. I dance and feel the spirit of my grandfather and his people. I wish I know him better.
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