If Trees Could Speak

By J. Cassandra Pointer

This book is a fictional story about two hundred acres of land that was stolen from an African American family who obtained land thanks to the Homestead Act. In the 1800s, Veronica Williams great-grandfather was deceived, and this is how this brave descendant regained what was rightfully hers. Her ways and means were out of the ordinary, but she did what she needed to do to triumph. Sadly, millions of African Americans who obtained land from their former slave masters or land that they purchased was stolen from them through racism, violence, trickery, or murder. This is the story of the Williams family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Mar 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781532018626

J. Cassandra Pointer

J. Cassandra Pointer holds a degree in criminal justice and has been a passionate volunteer at domestic abuse shelter where she encouraged, strengthened, and motivated female residents. As an abuse survivor, Pointer encourages positive change for all who seek it. She has seven grandchildren, seven nieces, and eight nephews, and resides in Talladega, Alabama.

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Copyright © 2017 J. Cassandra Pointer.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

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ISBN: 978-1-5320-1861-9 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-5320-1862-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2017903119

iUniverse rev. date: 03/01/2017

CONTENTS

Prologue

Vengeance

Beyond The Trees

Two Hundred Acres

Thank you, God, for giving me the mindset to write this novel.

*****

This novel is

dedicated to my children. Thank you for putting up with my craziness

And

Albert, forgive me for my stubbornness.

I dedicate this to all with love.

If trees could speak what would they say,

Would they bend down and greet you at the beginning of the day?

If trees could speak, what would you do?

Would you watch what you say and watch what you do?

If trees could speak, would you thank God for them all?

For without these trees we would know nothing at all.

If trees could speak, is it possible they have eyes?

Yes, and feelings so rooted

It cries and cries and cries

If trees really could speak, then there’s something you need to know,

That each leaf is window to our doorway of tomorrow.

And when the trees begin to speak, you better take heed,

For it’ll be too late to beg and plead

PROLOGUE

I n 1974, children in the negro community of Talladega County were disappearing on the weekly, sometimes daily basis.

When and if they were found, some were found dead floating in the Talladega Lake. Sadly, the local authorities weren’t instrumental in finding justice for the parents. Even worst, it appeared they didn’t care to.

Here is the story of their misfortune.

O n Tuesday, April 16 th 1974, Judith Whitfield kissed her mother goodbye as she headed off to school. Judith woke up late and missed the school bus, so she had to walk the three miles to Talladega High School. Judith, and the other children in the neighborhood, were warned several times not to play in or go near the woods but, because it was early in the morning and not too many people were out and about. Judith decided to cut through the woods so she wouldn’t be too late for her first class.

It was 3:15pm. The school bus stops at the corner to drop the neighborhood children off like clockwork every day. Mrs. Whitfield stood at the window and watched the children descend from the bus and head home in their different directions. The last child stepped off the bus and the bus pulled off. Judith was nowhere in sight.

Maybe she had to stay over and make up for being late this morning

Mrs. Whitfield thought to herself. Convinced that her daughter would be home shortly, Mrs. Whitfield returned to the kitchen to finish dinner.

Two hours passed and Judith still wasn’t home. Mrs. Whitfield began to worry. "Mr. Whitfield would be home from work shortly. Mrs. Whitfield said,

I’ll have him run up to the school and pick her up.

Then there was a knock at the door. Mrs. Whitfield ran to the door hoping it was Judith. Mrs. Whitfield quickly opened the door but it was Kara, Judith’s best friend.

Hi Miz. Whitfield, is Judy sick? She didn’t come to school today.

Mrs. Whitfield’s knees got weak. She held on tight to the door knob to keep from falling. What do you mean she didn’t come to school? She woke up late and missed the school bus, so she had to walk. She explained.

Are you sure she wasn’t in school?

No Miz. Whitfield, she wasn’t there, that’s why I brought her the homework

Kara said.

Oh, my God, where is Judith? What happen to my child!?

Mrs. Whitfield cried out.

Shortly after, Mr. Whitfield pulled into the driveway. Mrs. Whitfield’s legs were too weak to move. She wanted to run to Mr. Whitfield and tell him his daughter was missing but she just could not move. All she could do was fear that Judy was like all the other children who seemed to be missing from their homes. Last week, Alvin Johnson disappeared on his way to the grocery store. It took the Sheriff three days before he came out to the Johnson house to take a report. The week before the five Alston children were walking together to their Grandparents house, they never arrived, all five children disappeared.

The week before that Rev. Glendon’s daughter disappeared on her way to Sunday school. Belinda was walking with her mother and sister, Flossie. Belinda stopped to adjust her stockings which were slowly sliding down her legs. Mrs. Glendon noticed Belinda wasn’t walking beside her. She looked back and noticed Belinda adjusting her stockings. Mrs. Glendon and Flossie continued walking. When Mrs. Glendon realized Belinda still had not caught up to them, she turned to tell Belinda to hurry up but she was nowhere in sight. She assumed, Belinda took a shortcut to beat them to the church.

When Mrs. Glendon and Flossie arrived at the church, she looked for Belinda but still could not see her. Maybe she’s inside, she thought to herself. Mrs. Glendon checked the sanctuary and the lady’s bathroom; no Belinda.

All Mrs. Whitfield could think about was her daughter being among the missing. Mr. Whitfield walked in the house and he automatically knew just by Mrs. Whitfield’s facial expression that some was wrong.

Ruby, what’s wrong, where’s Judith? he said.

She didn’t come home. Kara said she never showed up at school. I don’t know where she is. Go look for her Jake. She demanded. find our daughter.

Mrs. Whitfield broke down and began to cry. Kara ran home to get her mother and tell the neighbors that Judith was missing. It didn’t take long for the news to spread. Negro, as well as white families began to gather in front of the Whitfield home. They all held hands and prayed for her return. All the men gathered together, with flashlights and sticks in hand as they formed a search party. They went from house to house, from barn to barn, from storm shelter to storm shelter. They checked the neighborhood store basement. They checked car trunks; anywhere anybody could stash a body. They trace Judith’s steps to school, unaware that she took a shortcut through the woods. They also checked the hospital but no one that fit Judith’s description was admitted. The men decided to split up and search in pairs. The entire town of Talladega was covered, no success. Judith was nowhere to be found. The men searched for hours and hours just like they did for the other children and the results were the same.

Mr. Whitfield returned home close to one AM without Judith.

Was the Sheriff notified? Mr. Whitfield inquired

Mrs. Whitfield replied;

Yes, I called but he hasn’t shown up yet.

Mr. Whitfield jumped in his car and headed into town. He was determined not to let three days pass by and not have this reported.

All he could think of was, there are too many colored children going missing in this town and absolutely nothing is being done about it.

Mr. Whitfield angrily drove down Battle Street towards, the Sheriff’s office. Tears began to stream down his cheeks, that’s my baby girl, our only child he cried aloud. Mr. Whitfield prayed;

Dear God, please help us find her and all the other missing children. Help us to find them all safe and sound. Amen.

As he pulled into the driveway of the Sheriff’s office Mr. Tyson the hospital janitor and his wife pulled in right beside him. Mrs. Tyson was crying uncontrollably. He overheard Mr. Tyson assuring his wife that Kelvin will be found. Mr. Whitfield interrupted them before they went in.

Excuse me, did I hear you say your son was missing?

Mr. Tyson confirmed;

Yes. he didn’t come home from school. He had football practice after school, his car is still parked in the school parking lot but he’s nowhere to be found.

I’m sorry to hear that. My daughter went missing today too. She never returned home from school either, as a matter of fact, she never made it to school.

What in the hell is going on here? Mr. Tyson shouted.

it’s becoming a common occurrence.

The only children disappearing are the colored children and the Sheriff’s department isn’t doing anything about it.

Well I am going to demand that something be done. Mr. Whitfield stated. If it were little white children disappearing in droves, The FBI would have been called, the news would have been notified, and it would have been plastered all over the newspapers, but because the children are colored, no one cares. You know what, I am not going to waste my time with Sheriff Geary and his good ole boys. I am going to contact the FBI, all the newspapers and the television stations myself. If we sit around and wait for their assistance, we will be waiting forever."

With that Mr. Whitfield jumped back in his car and drove home.

Mr. Whitfield arrived home, when he stepped up on the porch he saw a pair of white tennis shoes and Judith’s book bag. The tennis shoes were stained with red dirt and they had blood on them. Mr. Whitfield ran in the house with the shoes and book bag in hand.

Ruby! Ruby! Ruby! Did you know these were sitting on the porch?

Mrs. Whitfield screamed as soon as she noticed the blood on the shoes. She held them close to her heart and cried out for Judith.

What did Sheriff Geary say? Mrs. Whitfield inquired once she could catch her breath.

Is he going to investigate all these disappearances?

I didn’t speak with the Sheriff. Said Mr. Whitfield. When I pulled into the driveway, Mr. and Mrs. Taylor were pulling in at the same time. Their son Kelvin is missing too. He didn’t come home from school either.

what does that have to do with our daughter? said Mrs. Whitfield.

"Ruby have you noticed that for the past