THE DEPOT

"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window."

Folks believed the cabin was abandoned, which was understandable. Since the cabin was secluded deep in the Eastern Pennsylvania forest, we listened for the barking of bloodhounds.

The burning candle in the window was a signal! The signal should have signified that it was safe.

Because of the underground railroad, thousands of slaves escaped slaveholders from the South and reached FREEDOM in Canada. During our journey, learned that railroad terms were used as code words. Our hiding places were named depots or stations. The guides were referred to as conductors. Those that hid the runaways were called station masters. Station masters were abolitionists. In case you are not familiar, the abolitionist wanted to stop and abolish slavery.

In order to maintain secrecy, no one knew the locations of all the depots or stations on the route. The route was referred to as the track. Of course, the track extended from the South to Canada.

How do I know about these things? I survived to tell the story.

My name is Lucy.

From Columbus, Mississippi, we started our journey. There were two of us. That would be Ben, my older brother by two years, and me. Ben was shy, kind, and caring. Sometimes, he affectionately teased me. While he was harshly mistreated all his life, Ben was never mean or mean-spirited, and he called me, "Lu!" Bless his soul.

Hiding during the daylight, we traveled at night.

On our way to Virginia, two older men joined our group of escapees. I never spoke to them. If things needed to be said, Ben did the talking for us. Staying our distance, it wasn't wise to become emotionally or physically attached to others. Honestly, it was hard to trust anyone.

In Maryland, we met Andy who was our conductor. Before Andy, the conductor was Harry. Andy claimed that Dr. Miller was the station master who owned the secluded property in Pennsylvania. Don't know if Andy was his real name. It rightly doesn't matter, but he introduced himself as Andy. May he rest in peace.

****

Shockingly, dogs and horses were treated better than slaves. As slaves, we were chattel. Bought and sold at the masters' and mistresses' whims. As chattel, masters, and mistresses could do whatever they wanted. Whenever they pleased. Constantly, we were verbally and physically reminded of the fact.

While my duties were in the house, Ben worked from sun up to sun down in the fields. Working day in and day out, we were never paid. There were no laws that protected slaves. If a law was passed, it was for the masters' benefit.

Being subjected to and witnessing horrific punishment; such as slaps blows, and lashes with a whip that would leave a bloody disfigured body were shocking and appalling.

Dragging a log that was chained to the field worker's feet, the slave had to continue working and tending to the fields. Other times, slaves were chained to trees, and buildings, or left to sit outdoors with their hands and feet in chains for some minor infraction.

Locking up a slave for a twenty-four-hour period, they were lucky if they received bread and water. Often and depending on the season, the slaves were close to starving.

At times, I can still hear the cries, "Don't Massa!"

Pleading when being flogged with the whip or pleading when a child was being separated from their mother. Oh, how mothers cried when their children were sold to another master. Breaking up families, the practice was beyond horrific.

While I didn't witness it, sadly, Ben did. Ben's friend talked back to the overseer and was flogged for the offense. If that wasn't bad enough, his friend was brutalized and screwed to a cotton gin. Once the master heard telling of the torture, Ben was ordered to leave bread and water for the male slave. Unfortunately, Ben found his friend's dead body that was killed and partially eaten by vermin and rodents.

Years before me, my sister Emily worked in the house. Since Emily was four years older than me, I observed and listened to what was happening. When Emily was fifteen, she had to submit to the master's advances. Convincingly, the master promised that she could keep her child. The master didn't keep his promise. The child was sold. The master lied. There wasn't anything Emily could do.

Shortly after the child was sold, the master raped Emily. For the second time, Emily was pregnant. Both died in childbirth. While devastated and heartbroken, everyone said, "It was God's will." The month before she died, her body and mind were in a frantic torpor state. In my heart, I knew that Emily and her baby were in a better place.

With me turning fourteen, the master had started to whisper in my ear. Sharing this with Ben, we knew it was now time to take our chances and run. Be damned with the consequences.

****

If captured, we risked being killed or resold upon our return to the master. Knowing those bounty hunters were looking for runaways and the bloodhounds would literally strip flesh from our bones killing us, that didn't stop us from running away. Undeniable, the thoughts were always on our minds.

Surviving under horrific conditions as slaves, unknowingly prepared us for running away and traveling long periods without food. Against all odds, we kept going. We were hungry and starving for freedom.

In the distance, we could hear the bloodhounds. Hiding in bushes along rivers, we hoped to keep away from and circumvent the dogs from attacking us.

Approaching the cabin, the candle glowed in the window which was the signal that it was safe to approach. Apparently, Dr. Miller had been followed by the bounty hunters. Inside the cabin, there was a struggle, leaving Dr. Miller stabbed to death. Laying in wait, the three bounty hunters were ready to capture escapees.

Keep in mind, that it was the 15th of December 1864. There was no way that Andy could have known or could have been warned that he was about to be ambushed. Andy, Ben, and the older man headed straight away for the cabin.

Recovering from a poisonous snake bite, the other older man stayed at the last depot stop.

Feeling sickly and hiding in the bushes, I was taking care of bodily functions. That's when all hell broke loose. Watching from my hiding place, the bounty hunters positioned the ropes around the closest walnut tree hanging Ben, Andy, and the older man.

Bitting on a twig, helped me remain quiet in the forest. Once the bounty hunters were gone, tears ran down my cheeks.

Not knowing which way to travel, I decided to retrace my steps walking back to the last depot stop. Once there, informing the station master as to what had transpired, I rested for a week before another group left on the track and to a new depot.

Surviving the journey, I arrived and settled in Canada. Thankfully, able to tell my story.

****

"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window."

According to stories that have circulated, every year on the 15th of December a candle burns in the window and only on that date. While not able to confirm or deny this as fact, I have never returned to the cabin in Eastern Pennsylvania. Under horrific circumstances, Ben, my brother, Andy, the older man, and Dr. Miller died. Their spirits never left.

December 15, 1915

Lu