Are We Walking the Walkway?

[Gary Rice]

Good Friends in Lakewood Land:

This past weekend, a rally was held in Lakewood Park in support of Black lives, and for peaceful change. During that rally, a reference was reportedly made to Lakewood’s historic role in aiding Black freedom. The following essay (updated from a past Lakewood Observer column) should serve to illustrate that role.

This article has everything to do with rolling up one's sleeves and getting involved in doing stuff for our wider community, using the time, talents, and resources that we have, as we are able to do so.

Lakewood's Cliffs of Freedom... The Last Station of the Underground Railroad

Silently in the darkness, the quaintly dressed man emerged from behind the huckleberries at the edge of the vast ravine. "It is well," he whispered to the forlorn group behind him, "thee can emerge from the tunnel now. Come follow me, but do so step by step, and carefully. One little slip and thee will take us all off this cliff." From the crawl-tunnel behind him, came a tired group of six fugitive slaves, dressed in a mixture of dirty calico, gingham, and tattered flannel; each holding onto part of a long thick rope for safety. Only two of the group had anything that might remotely pass for shoes. Slowly, ever so slowly, they began the descent down the side of the ravine, and into the Rocky River valley. At the edge of the river, running shallow in the still, humid silence of a warm evening, the group waited patiently on the smooth river stones. Suddenly, and quite faintly, a lantern's light revealed itself on the opposite bank; twice, and then once. "Yes," whispered the quaintly dressed man, "that is indeed the signal for thee to cross, and do so quickly, but quietly now. Noise travels a great distance over water!" A young ebony-skinned boy of fourteen bit into his lip as he entered the river. Deep lacerations on the soles of his feet stung greatly in the flowing, cool waters. On his back were many older lacerations; whippings from his earlier escape attempts. On his soul, were even greater lacerations that could not be seen.

One by one, each crossed the river to the spot where the lantern had last been seen. As the last one arrived on dry ground, the lantern, being only a few feet from the party, opened again barely an inch. By the lantern light, the outline of a lady in Quaker bonnet and gray dress could be discerned. "Go now to yonder Indian rock," she whispered and pointed, "thee will find food, comfort, and blankets there. Thee will rest and have meeting together. Then, thee must climb up this side of the rocks. In a short while, thee will come to other cliffs. These will be the cliffs of freedom, for they stand on the great Lake Erie. We cannot go up this valley to Lake Erie tonight, for the slave catchers are encamped there. Tomorrow night, the boat will come to take thee to Canada. Thee will soon be free!"

The following evening, a small boat arrived at an even smaller inlet near today's Lakewood Park, and six grateful former slaves left the United States over the silent gentle lapping of the darkening waters. The Quaker couple on the bank then returned to their carriage and opened wide, the wire-caged lantern. With a "Go now, Friend Horsey", they started off on the long return to their home, with their midnight-black mare leading the way.

Although the story above may be fictional in its particulars; in general terms, the facts of what happened right here in the Lakewood/Rocky River area speak for themselves- but only if you look closely. Internet and library searches do not have a great deal of information concerning the Underground Railroad in this area, and the principals involved at that time generally kept quiet about their participation, even after the Civil War; because the heroic deeds that they had performed were, after all, quite illegal in the eyes of our government. Only stories, shadows, rumors and occasional facts emerge for the potential researcher of this sad, yet glorious chapter of Lakewood's history.

The mouth of Rocky River was reportedly one of many places where the former slaves were taken to wait for the boats. Quite often, unfortunately, they were betrayed at the last minute into the arms of the slave catchers. Sometimes, they made their way on foot to the cliffs and inlets along the coastline, to wait; as in the story above. Sometimes, according to other sources, they quietly made their way down to caves along the lake, through one or more long underground tunnels that began in the cellars of local homes.

The Quakers, by the way, were a group of self-described "peculiar people", who took Jesus' "Sermon on the Mount" quite literally, and many were not in favor of slavery. They felt that the inspiring words found at the front of the Gospel of John: "the true Light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world" (KJV) meant that the light of God was in all of humankind. All people were brothers and sisters in the "Light", and were therefore equal before God.

As a sidelight here, during Oliver Cromwell's time in England, the use of the personal "thee" in speech, was banned for the more impersonal (and formerly plural) "you". Quakers refused to abandon the word "thee", because to do so would involve treating people as class-conscious groups, instead of as individual God-filled Children of the Light.

The Underground Railroad was the name given to the means by which fugitive slaves were brought up out of the South and transported to Canada. Though usually neither underground, nor a railroad, hundreds of people, called Abolitionists, helped these former slaves on their way to freedom. Many people of other faiths were also involved with the Railroad. Places like the Pomeroy House in Strongsville and the Hubbard Home in Ashtabula (called "Mother Hubbard's Cupboard") were also reportedly stations on this secret pathway to Canada.

Slavery had never been permitted in Ohio, or for that matter, in any of the Northwest Territories. For years, if fugitive slaves made it into Ohio in the 1840's, they were free. In 1857 however, a former slave- Dred Scott, had returned from his free home in Indiana to a slave state and had been again made a slave. He petitioned the Supreme Court for his freedom. The Supreme Court shook the entire country by stating that no black, whether slave or free, could ever be a citizen. Furthermore, all states would have to recognize slaves as property and enforce their return to their masters, in a reinforcement of the 1850 Fugitive Slave Law.

Having never allowed slavery, many Ohioans were therefore furious, and disregarded the decision of the Federal Court. The Underground Railroad then kicked into high gear, as it became clear that Canada was the only option to true freedom for the slaves.

Border cities like Detroit were too densely populated to permit many secret slave crossings. That left the crossing of Lake Erie by water, and brought the area that we know today as Lakewood, into a central role in the Underground Railroad.

As we have that beautiful walkway down to the water's edge at Lakewood Park, perhaps it would be well to reflect back to that fictional night, and perhaps too, to a great many other such nights on the cliffs around Lakewood. As you, er, THEE, walk down this historic walkway, think about those rocks as being the last stepping stones to freedom for a people torn from their homes in the heart of Africa, brought to this land in chains, and then, having to leave it in order to achieve the freedom that so many other Americans take for granted.

To have that struggle for freedom, in whatever form, need to continue in our time... is simply beyond comprehension.

In 2006, Dad (WWII era vet and Lakewood educator Bob Rice) and I, with the blessing and help of our city, placed a monument at the top of that walkway so that generations from now, people will remember what happened here. In the past, this chapter of American History has often been covered up and hidden from view as a embarrassing affront to our country's polished image as being a beacon of freedom for all, but here in Lakewood, the North Star; that True North Beacon of Hope, at the end of the Big Dipper Drinking Gourd in the sky... the star that guided those escaped slaves to a new life of freedom...

...it never shone brighter than it did here.

A special thanks to the late Vic Silverman, my former teacher; for taking us Harding students to the Pomeroy House so many years ago, and for igniting within his students, the spirit of remembrance.

Our Underground Railroad Marker reads:

On or near this site, and at the mouth of Rocky River, escaped slaves from the south waited for boats that would take them to Canada in the days before the Civil War. This marker is placed in their memory, so that their quest for freedom will never be forgotten. Marker donated by Robert and Gary Rice 2006