It's surreal, unsettling.... but a constant

FACT that I revel in looking at, in touching, in knowing a record exists of my great-grandmother and gg-father.  

So, I spent an hour - propped on bed pillows - thumbing thru an oversized notebook full of pages (census forms) and Arkansas clippings about Chicot, AR.  The history is written for white individuals, and I continue to look for similarity of names and places in which the black - enslaved population lived and worked.