Identically Different

Ninety Four plus years ago, the above twins were born into the world to a loving interracial couple. They were born in Arkansas, a very southern state. Strangely, they recall their childhood as one filled with joy, happiness and lots of love. Them, nor any of their siblings ever spoke of encountering any incidents of discrimination or racism. They often laugh about how they were afraid of insects and would run from something the call, “flying manners.”

Oftentimes, one of the twins speak of a childhood where they lived in a house, next to the, “Big house”, where their dads bosses family lived. They talk about the large white horse their dad rode daily overseeing the workers on the large farmland. Their mom, according to them, sometimes worked in the bosses home. They talked about their father being a concert pianist and how he played the piano for them evenings, as they sung for him.

My grandfather initially surfaced back in 1974 when I was undergoing a background check, after accepting a position as a United States Federal Agent, conditional on passing a thorough background investigation for security clearances. One afternoon, two Federal Inspectors came into my office and requested that I come with them to the conference room. When Inspectors request a conference with you, there are no questions asked, you simply follow them. Their question to me was, why had I omitted the fact that my grandfather was from another country. I responded to them that I had no knowledge of where my grandfather came from and I to,d him I really didn’t remember anything about him. The Inspectors informed me that he was of Danish decent. I was in total shock, because I truly didn’t know anything about my mother’s father. I can’t begin to say how long that afternoon was...I needed to get home and ask some questions. When I approached my mom, she suggested I talk to my aunt, my moms oldest sister.

I immediately contacted my aunt and told her what had happened to me and the questions I was asked about my grandfather. My aunt told me that their father was Caucasian, from another country and was a very loving father. She told me, he was with my mother when I was born in a clinic in Tennessee. Additionally, she explained that my mom still had the sweater set he had purchased for me when I was born. She explained that they never really spoke of him because after their mother died during childbirth there were initially some difficult times for them.

I had so many questions, even to the point of how they were able to get married as an interracial couple over 100 years ago. I did learn through research that over 100 plus years ago, a Caucasian from a prominent family and a confederate soldier married a slave. However, when they died, he was buried in a white cemetery and she was buried in a black cemetery.

My aunt didn’t go into great detail but would periodically give me bits and pieces of information about her father. After their mother died during childbirth of their youngest brother, my aunt dropped out of school at a very young age to take care of her siblings. This was when the boarding school came into play. However, because their family was so close, she continued to play the part of mother to her siblings along with my stepmother.

You see, my stepmother was a pianist, teacher, scholar and believed in correct etiquette, white gloves, reading, learning and reciting poetry. I believe she had the first set of encyclopedias ever published. Learning poetry and taking piano lessons was something expected of my mother and her twin. Something they detested. They didn’t see the value of learning how to set a table, or using the correct flatware. My aunt was sort of the buffer. They were the baby girls, twins and spoiled. However, later in life they valued her upbringing and the values she taught them.

The grandmother that I knew was their stepmother. After their mother died, times were changing and their dad encountered some problems ruding the bus with them, visiting their schools, etc. He then decided to enroll them in a boarding school to protect them from having any problems because of his race. My grandmother was the Head Master of their boarding school. She and my grandfather got married. My mom and her sister graduated Valedictorian and Salutatorian. To this day they recite poems, one about trees, The Raven, etc.

The above is a picture of them at their graduation. As children, we were raised in a very close net family. Our weekends were spent with our aunts, uncles, cousins, etc. , we never had babysitters other than family members. As a matter of fact, our cousins were our best friends. I suppose this was something taken from the way they were raised, away from anyone other than family members. Perhaps, this was their parents way of protect them from scrutiny, racism and discrimination.

Today, they live in two different cities, each have seven children and they talk constantly throughout the day, referring to each other as, “my twin.” Neither ever calls the other by their names.

Their identity is unreal, my aunt actually attended my fathers funeral thirty years ago as my mom, and until about five years ago, none of us knew this. My mom couldn’t come to the funeral, my aunt simply went for her, accepting all of the condolences and hugs. Unbelievably, my aunts husband was their and left right after the funeral, going to our home tohis wife. And, when my aunt’s husband died, my mom was there sitting next to her twin. Some of the people speaking were quite shaken because they thought they were seeing double of my aunt.

While at my aunt’s home, my mom was walking down the street in the neighborhood and the neighbors were offering her condolences. Neither of them, ever explains who they are or that they are a twin.

The strangest thing of all is that, most twins want to be close to each other...this would make life so much easier for all of the children. They both live alone in their own homes and refuse to live together.

I suppose even 100 years ago, love knew no color.