The Emancipation Papers
 Harriett’s original emancipation papers (Click to view larger) |
 Harriett’s amended emancipation papers documenting her children. (Click to view larger) |
Cindy Gaillard
Columbus Neighborhoods: Worthington producer
I love history that I can hold in my hands. I love old saddles and books and pens. Give me a Civil War rifle and I’m lost for hours. Letters and official papers transfix me; the handwriting alone is a work of art.
That’s why working with the Worthington Historical Society this past year was such a joy. They’ve saved loads of letters and photos and papers that I could touch (well, with white gloves of course). One particular item though, made one particular day very special.
It was a “scanning day”, a day we bring our laptop and scanner into the historical society and ingest images and papers that might help illustrate over 200 years of Worthington’s history. Sue Whitaker, the former director of the society and I pulled out documents and photos while my student, Christian Smith, a young African American woman, stood ready at the computer.
And what Sue Whitaker handed me that day literally made my hands shake. It was the original emancipation papers of a young woman named Harriett – no last name given. It documented that her freedom came December 6, 1858.
The paper was of a proper bond – both luxurious and sturdy. Of course it had to be because Harriet had to carry this paper with her when she travelled. And when her children came in 1860, she had to have her papers amended, which she did on March 5th.
I gave the document to Christian to scan through the protective sheet. I asked her if she knew what the document meant, really meant at the time – that Harriet could not travel without her papers, she could not find employment without her papers, she could not find housing or be respected within her community, all without her papers.
Christian knew the concept but didn’t know the details of emancipation papers. It’s both good that we were there, all gathered around Harriett like a flock of mother hens, and a great thing that a young African American woman could touch her own history with her own hands.
In the over 20 years that I have produced television documentaries, that ordinary and extraordinary day eclipsed all others.