Estizer50's Weblog

Welcome> Back to Lowndes County, Alabama

If you find yourself at this site, it is probably no mistake. Let me say upfront, thank you for your interest and your time. I’d love to know your thoughts.

The purpose of this blog is to tell you a little about myself, but, overwhelmingly, it is to introduce you to my ongoing Lowndes County Documentary.

“The War on Poverty”

These are photographs that were taken by Louis H. Anderson Sr. to document the work that he and others did while working with the Office of Equal Opportunity in Lowndes County, Alabama 1967-71.

Wife and Husband Outside of
Shanty

Child on Porch

Gathering of Children

Family on Porch

Family on Porch

This is the Beginning of My Story…

My mother, Estizer Dyer Anderson, died suddenly in March 2006. I experienced unimaginable turmoil and angst…both physical and emotional. I was searching for comfort in old family photos when I came across my father’s photographs of Lowndes County.

My Journal Entry April 17th, 2007

“My spirit still holds fast to this part of my past and I do not know why. It seems to be tightening it’s grip. There is a need I must attend to.”

My father, Louis Anderson, Sr., and my mother, worked in Lowndes County during the civil rights movement. They moved our family to Montgomery, Alabama, from Macon, Georgia, so that they could do their work, and improve the lives of people who were less fortunate. Every morning, they drove the twenty miles to Lowndes, County—the poorest county in the United States in the 60′s. Lowndes County had the dubious honor of having the most lynchings of any county in the state of Alabama. Some called it “Bloody Lowndes”. The simple act of registering to vote, for Black residents, could be dangerous and deadly. My parents registered every eligible black man and woman in the county that they could. This feat required many meetings in hot, dilapidated churches, journeys down dusty back roads, teaching, courage, and the garnering of respect and trust.

My father and mother dedicated their lives to improving the living conditions of these residents. His photos documented families living in the worst conditions— no water, no electricity, and little protection from the elements. With the help of other civil rights workers, government agencies, God, and the residents themselves, living in the shanties gave way to homes fit for humans. Daddy’s photographs chronicle these moves.

I traveled back to Lowndes County to find anyone who knew of my father or any of the shanties in his photographs. I found the people, and I found the shanties, and to my surprise…I found my father.

On my journey, I discovered this constellation of people—they gave structure and form to my search. These people are the touchstones for different parts of my Father’s identity…my Father’s spirit. At every turn, I could have met someone else…but I didn’t.

There was Judge Huelit, the first black judge in the county. He was 13 years old when my father’s office was fire bombed by the Ku Klux Klan. He is the one who sounded the fire alarm by calling his own father. With the help of my father and others, Judge Huelit’s father became the first black sheriff in the county. Huelit suggested that I might find some of what I was looking for on “Niggerfoot Road”, now renamed Colleraine Cutoff Rd.

He brought to me my father’s courage.

 

Then there was Ms. Searight. She was a 20 year old, widowed sharecropper with 4 children and a 9th grade education. Ms. Searight said, “Your Daddy is the reason I am where I am today! They came out here and got everybody they could to come to training classes. He’d say, Ms. Searight, Ms. Searight, you’re so smart, why don’t you do more? So I did. They helped me get my GED and then your Dad got me this job. I’ve stayed, and just moved up. Sundays were the best. They’d gather the top 10 students at a different community meeting each week to encourage others to do what we had done. My friend Ms. McMean and I would always go together. I’d drive and she’d ride in the backseat with her shotgun.”

I received my father’s energy and vitality.

 

Levert was sitting under the big shade tree on the town square near the Confederate Statue. Initially in our conversation I thought he sounded a bit “slow”. As we talked more, I discovered it was just a delayed speech pattern due to an accident, there was no mental delay. After discussing the heat, his family, and my unsuccessful endeavors, Levert opened a candy bar and offered me some. Right after, he did the same with his coke. I said, “No thanks”, but was touched just the same.

I was given my father’s peaceful presence and sense of calm.

 

Totally defeated, unable to find any shanties, I left Levert. As I crossed the street to my truck I met State Trooper Scott. With my camera over my shoulder and my head hung down, he greeted me like most people in the South do…friendly and familiar. I explained my plight. While talking I shared my father’s shanty photos with him and that I’d learned of their demise due to unpaid taxes. With that, I was about to go home. After studying the photos, Officer Scott said, “My Aunt lived in one like that and there were one or two others on the property. I don’t know if they’re still there but they might be.” My heart was lifted!! Only to discover that it was much too far out and impossible for me to find on my own, as I wasn’t a “local”. Trooper Scott was on his way home in the opposite direction.

While watching my heart break…he changed his mind. He offered to take me to the places I needed to go…deep in the Alabama woods.

I felt cloaked in my father’s protection.

 

Trooper Scott left me in Mosses, AL (still in Lowndes County) at the home of Queen Stallworth, last on my list of stops. As he left me he warned me to, be careful, Mosses is a dangerous place. I had no need to ask what he meant. I kept my stay short and left well before dark.

Queen wasn’t home so I decided to get a few shots of her garden and leave. John Stallworth, her brother-in-law saw me and came out. He lives around back and was excited to tell me about his roses that he just knew I’d love to photograph. How could I resist. He was right, and as I told him how beautiful they were, he cut a few and made a bouquet in a plastic water bottle to take with me on my travels. I’d never received a more beautiful arrangement. He was just as excited to share another treasure with me that he knew I’d appreciate photographing, an outdoor toilet. Right again!! As I thanked him again and again, he said, “That’s how I get my blessins. You treat other people the way you want to be treated. I ain’t never done nobody wrong and I’ve had a good life.” He went on to say that he liked seeing young people doing what they loved, and as much as I love it…I’d surely be good at it! There were a few more words of encouragement that I’m sorry I don’t remember. What I do remember, is how he made me feel…loved and encouraged.

He brought my father’s heart.

The end of this trip was only the beginning. I will return in September 2007. My father’s spirit is with me always, but, for reasons not yet clear to me…he wants me and my camera in Lowndes County, Alabama.

 

The second trip of my documentary actually occurred in Nov. 2007… not Sept. I am in the process of editing those photos and interviews in hopes of sharing those with you as well. All of this is being done as I continue to teach photography classes, as well as, gear up for the last of my documentary trips to Lowndes County. I’d like to take this opportunity to thank ArtsQuest for it’s unwavering financial as well as artistic support.

For more about my other work please scroll down to links and click my name to view my website.