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| Ella and Malcolm at 72 Dale Street, 1941 |
I think the major impact of Ella’s arrival [in Lansing], at least upon me, was that she was the first really proud black woman I had ever seen in my life. She was plainly proud of her very dark skin. This was unheard of among Negroes in those days, especially in Lansing.
If Martin Luther King Day honors equality and civil rights, we are sharing a story from Rodnell Collin’s 1997 book, Seventh Child, about his mother’s struggle to purchase the future Boston Landmark at 72 Dale Street. It is a reminder of an imperfect time in Boston and Roxbury, but it teaches us that our preservation work today must also interpret some challenging back stories.
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| Ella Little Collins in 1967 |
Then Ma made her move. By now the owners had raised the price to nine hundred dollars. What they didn’t know was that Ma was prepared to pay twelve hundred dollars, a fact that she made known to the bank. The bank, interested only in getting their money, pressured the bigoted family to sell to her. They still balked; almost a year went by. Finally, a persistent Ma approached them again with an agreement paper and nine hundred dollars in hand. Now they wanted twelve hundred dollars. “I didn’t blink,” Ma said. “I told them that if they signed the agreement paper immediately for twelve hundred dollars, I would leave a nine hundred dollar deposit and pay the balance in twenty-four hours. If I didn’t, they could keep the nine hundred dollar deposit. If I didn’t, they could keep the nine hundred dollar deposit. That offer convinced them they were dealing with a dumb Negro, so they quickly signed the agreement.” She then called the bank and told them that she had both a signed agreement and the twelve hundred dollars in hand. The bank, now drooling with eagerness to close the deal, called the family and told them they wanted their money that day. The property owners were shocked to find Ma sitting there when they came to the bank. “They were sure that they were going to have both my nine hundred dollars and the house,” Ma said. The bank insisted that they stick to the signed agreement and sell for the twelve hundred dollars agreed upon. By the time they paid the five hundred dollar mortgage to the bank and six hundred dollars’ worth of overdue real-estate taxes, they had exactly one hundred dollars in cash.” That’s what they got for messing with Ma. From the Chapter entitled “Ella,” Seventh Child by Rodnell P.Collins with A. Peter Bailey, Birch Lane Books, 1998.


Great story! Don't mess with Ma....
ReplyDeleteWhat a woman! There were many Black women - hundreds, thousands who were and are as determined as Ella Little Collins. What a shame that she died in a nursing home in a white suburb of Boston.
ReplyDeleteMalcolm X became one of my heroes,at a very young age. I was not even 10 years old, a white boy living in a tony suburb of Boston. And hating that uptight lifestyle. With transistor radio in hand every night, I'd listen to rock and roll on WMEX,until even better, the late night talk shows came on. It was there, that I, like Malcolm,had his eyes opened. Pioneers like, Malcolm X, Doctor King,Bill Baird. Heck, even "Sweepstakes" Kelly, who would be berated, for his "outrageous" suggestion, of a state lottery. They were all on the late night airwaves, with Jerry Williams, Paul Benzaquin, Jim Westover, Steve Fredericks. When I heard Malcolm, I felt like he was speaking for me, despite our differences. Maybe because I was a redhead and getting all the grief that entails. Who knows. All I know is he was a GREAT self-made, reinvented,man. Who taught this young boy that you can and should and MUST, fight for ones dignity. No matter the price. Ella Collin's brother paid the ULTIMITE price. But all her efforts on his behalf are still bearing fruit today. From the lower branches with me, all the way to the top of the tree, with President Obama.
ReplyDeleteThank you Ella Little Collins for all those hard fought rounds, in the ring of prejudice. Thank you as well to Rodnell Collins,for keeping the home fire burning. It would be an honour, to meet you someday. Best Regards, John Breslin