To celebrate Juneteenth, I am copying a note I wrote in my diary in July 2008. That day, I talked to a black gentleman at a meeting in the Park Hyatt Chicago:

The 39-year-old PhD scientist was born in Lafayette, Louisiana. He had just come back from a trip to visit his family, the first time after Kathrina’s devastation. The whole area—which is 60 miles from the coast—was destroyed by seawater and winds. His family farm was still there, but no one grew anything. The young men had left the countryside. They used to grow sugar cane, figs, corn, and other staples. Europeans settled in the area, and their traditions remained very much alive. People lived many years. He met his grandparents because his grandma died at 106.  

“They were born slaves,” he said, “and were liberated at five or six years of age. My grandpa used to sit me in his lap and tell me stories.”