I was 9 or 10 years old when a group of white people walked into a ballroom where my family had gathered for a reunion in Hamilton, Ala.
I figured someone had double-booked the venue before I learned we had extended an invitation to them, the descendants of the man who had purchased the matriarch of my family, Mary Ann Key, in the 1850s.
We broke bread together.
In the years that followed, we learned more about our matriarch's life through stories she'd passed down to her children and grandchildren, written accounts from members of the Key family whom she'd helped raise, and local documents in Hamilton, where the Key family later settled — and Mary Ann Key died.
The Key family's accounts included tales about her loyalty and submissiveness. During the Civil War, family members wrote, Mary Ann Key sneaked food to the man who owned her as he hid in a cave to flee raiding parties. She stayed with that family after the Emancipation Proclamation freed the slaves — not uncommon — and the Key family talked about her connection to them as if she were an aunt, without mentioning the truth of her subjugation.
The circumstances, however, had not arrested my great-great-great-grandmother's soul, her mind or her spirit. We know Mary Ann Key liked to sing and play games. She demanded excellence and accountability from those around her. She was muscular. She once carried large stones and helped build a courthouse. She cleared trees to make space for a local road. As she aged, she would think back to her life as a slave and sing songs about courageous runaways evading slave-catchers.
But there are many things we don't know about Mary Ann Key, who was a teenager when the Key family bought her. What was her original name? How did she feel when the Key family ripped her from wherever she was, from whomever she was with, to be their slave? What made her smile? What made her laugh? What made her cry?
I now understand the story the Key family had told about the matriarch of my family differed from the layered narrative we knew. Her presence in their family was a whitewashed footnote that ignored her reality.