What do you want to know?

What do want to know about Benjamin D’Ion Lawton Willingham, my great-great-great grandfather? Birth date? When and where he was married? Plantation house where he raised his thirteen children? (Still standing, now with a full-sized bear in the entry and a sunken jetted tub in the master suite: Gravel Hill on-line tour.) His mansion after the Civil War, where he lived while he built his huge post-war business? (Also still there—now houses seven apartments.) Favorite brand of toothpaste? Yeah, I could probably figure that out, too.

But what about the 100+ people he was enslaving in 1860? I can tell you their genders (45 female; 59 male) and their ages (3 who were 60 years old, 36 between the ages of 18 and 59, 34 who were 11-17, and 31 aged 10 and younger. One was just four months old at the time of the 1860 census). That’s it. No names. No stories. No nothing.

That is my white privilege. That’s white supremacy.

But I'm not giving up yet.