“If you are silent about your pain, they’ll kill you and say you enjoyed it.” 
― Zora Neale Hurston

I have expressed any number of times that even “Eden had shadows.” I will celebrate my 60th birthday on Oct. 7, 2018, and that is a senior citizen for members of my family. Unlike many others, I am not going to run until my tongue hangs out nor live on arugula and wheat germ. I hope when I go I have grease on my breath, and a smile on my face.

I have a story I am going to relate in this article today, and, as I relate it, let me emphasize that this is oral history passed down, but it was passed down by some credible sources, and it happened before I was born in my hometown in White Springs, Florida.

Now, the larger world, through the years has maligned and utilized the Ruby McCollum-Dr. Adams story as a story that defines who certain individuals are as a people. There’s always more than one side of a story and sometimes more than one side.

The historic Adams Brothers Store in White Springs, Florida, was operated for close to a hundred years as a general store. It sold everything from ten penny nails to coffins. It operated largely during a time when racial segregation was the practice in the Deep South. African Americans and whites drank from separate water fountains, attended separate schools, sat in separate waiting rooms at doctor’s office, even sat in separate sections of movie theaters. Everything was done separately and, yet, during this period of time several generations of white children were raised by black women and several generations of white families ate food prepared by black hands.

In White Springs, the late Mr. Nathaniel “Nat” Adams, a bachelor, who died in 1937, employed an African American man named Bob Houston. Bob Houston spent so much time with Mr. Adams and doing jobs for the Adams family that he was called Bob Adams by many folks. Mr. Nat was a shrewd businessman, and it was his wish that his longtime employee, Bob Houston, be buried next to him in the Adams family plot at Riverside Cemetery in White Springs, Florida. The land on which Riverside is situated was given, the majority of it, by the Adams Family and the street on which it is situated is Adams Memorial Drive.

Mr. Adams died in 1937, and he lived a long life. Not long after his death, Bob Houston passed away and was buried, according to Mr. Adams’ wish next to him in the Adams family plot at Riverside Cemetery. Bob Houston rested in the sandy soil at Riverside for less than 24 hours. According to local stories, the Adams-Saunders family was “sent a message” and the message let them know that unless Bob Houston was moved from Riverside Cemetery over to the African American cemetery that citizens would exhume his body and lay it on the front porch of Sophie Jane Broward House. The family was supposedly also warned about the dangers of fire and how so much of what they owned was built out of pine lumber.

Bob Houston was moved to Eastside Memorial Cemetery and was not allowed to rest by Mr. Nathaniel Adams.

This story could have happened anywhere in the Deep South, but it happened in White Springs, Florida.

It is also told that the Adams family had the last laugh. Many locals wanted them to deed what is now Eastside Memorial to the white community for a portion of their cemetery. The cemetery is shaded with ancient moss festooned live oak trees. It is scenic and breathtakingly beautiful. The “white folks” didn’t get that property. The Adams family saw to it that the African American community was deeded that property supposedly because of the attitude of some citizens about the burial of Robert “Bob” Houston Adams.

Now, how much of this story is true, I don’t know. I would say a good bit of it. I do know that White Springs, Florida’s city cemeteries are a clear picture of a South that exists even today. On one side, the white citizens of the town rest in peace and across the fence under the huge and beautiful oak trees rest many of the town’s African American citizens.

I do not write this story to incite any more racial polarization than already exists. There are people who will blame all the troubles of their life on someone or something else; they need to get over it. You can’t change the past, but you can change your present and your future. Racism does not walk one side of the street. It walks both sides of the street, and it is reprehensible for any group or individual to hate someone else because of their skin color. Decent people should be treated decently, and respect should win respect.

From the Eight Mile Still on the Woodpecker Route north of White Springs, wishing you a day filled with joy, peace, and, above all, lots of love and laughter.