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Francis Leo Milner Horton, Sr.
Jamaican Bloodline:
A Personal Family History
Childhood References
My father, Daniel Richard Horton, never shared his Jamaican family ties with his wife, my mother, Ora Milner Horton, nor any of his children. He was born in Jamaica, though he never told us what year. He would say he “dropped”. What I recall though, is Daddy’s repeated admonishment to his children and wards that when he felt that he was too big to be under his fathers’ roof, he left home with seven shillings (British Currency), and with that amount he made his life of which he was very proud. What we also heard in passing was that he acquired the skills of a goldsmith after leaving home. He made the rings which he gave his wife, my mother, and which they both wore until their deaths. We also heard in passing that he served as a law enforcement officer before he left for the USA via Costa Rica, where he must have worked to earn his travel to the USA. His activities in that country are totally unknown to us, but while we were traveling, by ship, to the UK where I and my brother Stephen were enrolled to study, Daddy occasionally spoke Spanish to the waiters, which suggested to me that he must have learned the language while in Costa Rica. That trip, which was also Daddy’s and Mamma’s world tour, took us to the Canary Islands, Valencia and Barcelona in Spain, and Paris, before we crossed the English Channel for England.
Daddy, being an economist such as he was, combined his and Mamma’s world trip with taking his two sons, Stephen, my older brother, and me to school at Tettenhall College, near Wolverhampton, Staffordshire, England, with the understanding that during the trip, he would take Mamma to visit his people in Jamaica. It was a promise never fulfilled for reasons that are still unclear to me and the other children. We can only speculate that he did not feel comfortable doing so at the time, or they needed to return home, for pressing reasons. My mother, on the other hand, born in Barnesville, Georgia, USA, on December 25, 1897, kept in touch with and visited her family in America. We knew the names and genealogy of all of our American relatives on my mother’s side.
Daniel and Ora were active members of the Reed Street Baptist Church, currently located on Bankhead Highway in Atlanta, Georgia, while they were students at Morehouse College and Spelman College respectively. It was at the Reed Street Baptist Church that they met and were married on December 7, 1916. As an aside, they were classmates of the parents of the Reverend Martin Luther King, Jr., with whom they went out on double dates and kept up a lifelong correspondence from Liberia. They were appointed as missionaries to serve in Liberia under the Foreign Mission Board of the National Baptist Convention Inc., USA, and they arrived in February of 1917 during World War I, becoming naturalized citizens shortly thereafter.
My parents began working with the Bassa, among whom they established the first school in 1922, with more schools to follow over the years. They broke away from the National Baptist Convention, for “its paternalistic racism”, as my father said, and went on to found the Liberia Direct Native Baptist Missionary Convention, still thriving today. During his more than forty years of service in the field of education, Daddy served with distinction as a foundation member and as teacher and principal in many educational institutions, including serving as principal of Ricks Institute; principal of Lott Carey Mission, and principal of the Booker T. Washington Institute, among others.
My Jamaican Experience
I was once very active in the Junior Chamber of Commerce of Liberia (JCL or Jaycees Liberia) and the Junior Chamber International (Jaycees International or JCI), and I held the positions of President of the JCL and Vice President and Executive Vice President of JCI, responsible for all of Africa, Eastern USA, and the Caribbean. I was also a candidate for the World Presidency of Jaycee International but lost against an America candidate. I am proud though, that the African members showed solidarity by voting in bloc for me in Saint Louis. The point of reference is that while I was Executive Vice President, I had the opportunity to visit the member countries and to attend regional conferences. Before my arrival at the Caribbean conference in Montego Bay, Jamaica, in 1976, the newspapers carried an article about my coming as the EVP; when I arrived, along with Mr. Walcot Benjamin, who was also from the Caribbean, the newspapers also reported to that effect. It is interesting to mention that at the time, I was canvassing for the JCI World Presidency, and I informed the Jamaican members of my Jamaican roots, but the only reference I could make was that my father was from Saint James Parish. Sadly, they never seemed to believe me. They probably thought that it was a political ploy.
As fate would have it, just after I arrived, I got a call from Kingston and the conversation with the caller, went something like this: “Hello, I believe you are our cousin. Your father is our mother’s uncle. We read about your coming and also that you had arrived. Actually, you are not far from your father’s family homestead. We will be happy to come to meet you and if you can make it, visit the homestead.”
Oh, was I excited and touched. I also felt vindicated because I would have proof for my doubting Jamaican Jaycees about my Jamaican roots. And so, I responded with pleasure; “I will be expecting you tomorrow and will be happy to visit the parish where my father was born and grew up.”
To digress a bit, before leaving for Jamaica, I inquired of both my brothers, Romeo and Stephen, as to how I might go about contacting our Jamaican relatives. Romeo was of no help. Stephen, on the other hand, in his usual manner of making light of certain things, blurted out, “Oh, there is an Uncle Rueben that I’ve heard of, but Chu-Chu (my nickname), don’t go there and look for poor relatives because you are noted for finding relatives from all walks of life.” That was my brother Stephen in his true and marvelous form.
The two brothers, Errol and Howard (I believe it was Errol who called), as promised arrived the next day, and the fact that they knew most of the Jamaican members at the conference confirmed my roots. After that, the Jamaican Jaycees began to take me more seriously. I think Jamaica voted for me also.
The Horton homestead in Jamaica is on a hill, a somewhat rocky area almost situated like the Monrovia house and the farmhouse that Daddy built in Liberia. I met Uncle Stephen, Daddy's youngest brother, who was a bit senile but could vaguely remember a brother who had become a parson and was somewhere in Africa. I saw the homestead, which was similar to the old frame house in Monrovia. I met some of our cousins and other relatives. I am told that Daddy’s children are still entitled to a portion of Daddy’s father’s estate, and I also gathered that daddy came from a family of some means, having property and being economically independent and self sufficient. What was never made clear to me was why did he leave and why after, I believe, his 1947 visit to Jamaica, he never went back nor kept his promise to take his wife to the place of his birth.
I was taken to Uncle Rueben, as my brother Stephen had mentioned, and, like the Liberian custom, he put me on his lap and cried and danced with happiness. He insisted that I eat the Jamaican bun and other national foods. Uncle Rueben told me that one of the very few letters he received from his brother Daniel mentioned that he had built a house on a hill and that he was married to a very beautiful woman.
How interesting, the brothers had been in touch with each other and yet, Daddy seemed to have wanted to sever all ties with them, and made all of his offspring feel that their only roots were in Liberia. He and Mamma, though Mamma to a lesser degree, acculturated us to be and feel Liberian. This, of course, made it possible for every one of my siblings, and me, the first generation of Hortons born in Liberia, to be fully accepted, as Liberians. Both of my parents were writers and publishers, and both had their writings published widely. Upon arriving in Liberia, one of my mother’s first published articles, “An Overland Trip in Liberia, West Africa”, published in The Mission Herald (August 1925), reveals something about my parents’ fascination with and love for Liberia.
Just at sunset the chief and his attendants will sit outside in the Palaver House and relate fables and stories of wild animals and village life. If the moon is shining, their graceful dancing
will be seen and songs heard. One cannot understand or get into their lives unless you love them. It has been wisely said,
“To know these people is to love them.” You will find that Africans
are living commentaries on the Bible. The name of every child has a
meaning, just as in the old time, according to Peter’s character of
firmness, he was called a stone. Just as Abraham was sent to search for
his son’s wife or took the lead in finding a wife for his son without
the son’s knowledge or consent, often before the son is born, the
wife is secured. Numerous other customs of theirs will at once take
your mind back to the Orient as recorded in the Bible. The mortar
and pestle are used. Soothsayers and prophets are numerous.
These were the kinds of stories my siblings and I were told while we were growing up, as well as my mother’s stories of her life in America. Ora Milner Horton compiled and published accounts of much of her and her husband’s missionary activities. Her book, Twenty-five Rice Farms, tells about their first twenty-five years in Liberia.
She also compiled and published the History of the Founding and Operations of the National Teachers Association of Liberia. Among the various institutions she conceived, she was founder of the National Teachers Association of Liberia in 1938. She also founded, in 1956, the Clara Cassell School for the Blind. She was a foundation member and Vice-President of the National Federation of Liberian Women, 1959. She was a Foundation Member, Recording Secretary, and Chairman of the Community of Occupational Therapy of the Catherine Mills Rehabilitation Center Organization, 1957. These are not all. In December 1943, Ora Milner Horton was honored for her contribution to education in Liberia by President Barclay, who presented her with the Medal of Honor of the Order of African Redemption. The Degree of Doctor of Humane Letters was conferred by Cuttington College and Divinity School at Suacoco, Gbarnga, Liberia, December 1966. This is still not all. My father loved her deeply and was very proud of her.
Cousin Ida, Daddy’s niece, was a sweet person who died up in her nineties several years ago. Her children were Beryl, a lawyer; Errol, in politics and once a Member of Parliament; another sister Ethel; and Howard, who was managing the family jewelry business. Both Beryl and Howard visited Liberia, and my brother Romeo and I visited Jamaica in the 1980s, when we were introduced to several relatives, but were given no explanation as to why Daddy never kept up with his family relationships.
If I were to speculate, conjecture, hypothesize or wonder about my father’s life as a young man in his native land, I would take the perspective that he was born unto parents that were not in wedlock. He was the oldest of his siblings and probably had a very rough and tough life under intense discipline from a stern father, and a stepmother who treated him with meanness, as is believed most stepchildren are treated. In this experience of a tough and highly disciplined life as a youth, he seemed to have been exposed to certain skills, especially in agriculture. But importantly, our father, grandfather and great-grandfather seemed to have been very ambitious about creating a life of industry. He was not deterred by the hardships that he underwent as a child, but seemingly set his sights on achieving great things for himself and a family that would be produced and nurtured by the right wife, who he must have prayed for. Mamma told us that her family did not want her to go to Africa, and Daddy apparently left them to believe that he would not take her; but as soon as they were declared man and wife, he exclaimed; “Mother, sister, parent, child, she’s mine now, she’s mine!”, taken to mean that he had full possession and he would take her, his wife, wherever he wanted, and what is now history, he took her to Liberia, where they both left an indelible mark as great leaders in Education, Religion and Society, bringing a remarkable and unique combination of West Indian and African American attributes and qualities.
The learning experiences from being a goldsmith and a policeman must have given him added preparedness for adventuring into strange lands to answer his calling, and very likely his dreams. Ironically, it seems farfetched for someone who paid his own way to the United States, without any subsidy, and who left his home with seven shillings, would have been able to enter the prestigious Morehouse College, in Atlanta, Georgia, where he graduated with a Bachelor Degree in Theology. But here again, one can be convinced of the determination, commitment and drive he possessed to reach his goals of being accomplished in three key significant aspects of living: religion, enterprise and education. As an ordained Minister, he preached the Word, and as an entrepreneur, invested in banking, agriculture and real estate, and as an educator, he supervised and taught in institutions of learning.
Among many honorary degrees, he was honored for his contribution to Liberia with the silver Medal of Honor of the Order of African Redemption. The Degree of Doctor of Humane Letters was conferred. On April 11, 1994, he posthumously received the Founders Spirit Award from Morehouse College, his alma mater, for his outstanding service to the African Race. His portrait hangs in the Morehouse College Martin Luther King Jr. International Chapel Hall of Honor. Horton Avenue, in Monrovia, is named to honor his and his wife's contributions.
There is a school of thought that says the pioneers and immigrants that came from the Caribbean were more industrious than those who migrated from the USA. If this is true, then Daddy’s Jamaican roots must account for why he was quite successful.
Copyright © Francis Leo Milner Horton, Sr.
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