Ruth M. Toliver
Once the seeds of education had been planted and allowed to grow, they opened unimaginable doors for George Ambrose Newman. He learned the basics of education while being “bound out” as a youngster during the early Civil War days. The people he met in his early years stayed with him. His understanding of people, his innate intelligence, his ability to use every situation as one of learning, and his incredible memory proved to be strengths as he moved beyond those early years. These qualities, along with his deep respect for people, brought him respect from those who met and knew him.
My grandfather’s command of language and the intricacies of balancing himself as a Black man in a white world often proved a serious challenge. Despite his lack of a formal education, he was able to reach professional heights far superior to many of his peers. His employment by the federal government during the late 1800s and early 1900s evidences his ability to read, write, figure, and reason, and testifies to his belief that he as a citizen of this country could pursue any career for which he was qualified. There were at this time few Black people employed by the federal government as Deputy Marshals or even, as he was, as Federal Revenuers, responsible for shutting down illegal liquor operations to prevent the loss of tax revenue. It was during work-related travels to the territory of Oklahoma that he faced the kind of racial prejudice he had never imagined and had to that point never encountered, which caused him to write about his indignation at being subjected to “The Jim Crow Car of Tennessee.” Heretofore he had ridden first class to his assignments. Even now, some members of our local community have expressed doubt that this Black man had the ability to confront his humiliation and outrage in the form of a poem. To read poetry written by Black poets and essayists evinces anger, disappointment, discrimination . . . written with an air of outrage then and especially now! So why is there doubt that this man of color is incapable of expressing his innermost hurt and disappointment in the form of poetry? George Newman firmly believed the Thirteenth, Fourteenth, and Fifteenth Amendments included him.
Members of the Newman family have always attested that he attended the academic school located in Washington, DC, but we have no proof, as the records of that school are seemingly no longer available. His command of Robert’s Rules of Order is evidenced in the records kept regarding the building of Kelley Street United Brethren in Christ Church (now Bethel AME Church). A copy of the books housing those records is available at the Historic Society of Virginia in Richmond, Virginia. George Newman served the Black population in Harrisonburg, Virginia, for the whole of his adult life. When he came to Harrisonburg and joined John Wesley Methodist Church, he realized there had been no written history of the church. He researched, questioned responsible individuals, and organized an accurate history, which today is cited at various church events. Once school was closed during the summer, he organized the Rockingham Spring Normal for teachers who needed coursework to rise to the next level of proficiency. Checking the Rockingham Register of Harrisonburg, Virginia, will give insight into the varying levels of instruction and the names of those teachers who moved up to the next level. Newman, along with Ulysses Wilson and Lucy Simms, organized the Colored Teachers Association, which met at various times during the year for discussions such as “How to Secure Attention” by Lucy Simms, “Advantages of the Study of History” by George Newman, and “Infinitives and Participles” by Ulysses G. Wilson.
George Newman, after leaving his position as principal of Effinger Street School, opened an insurance and notary public business with an office located on Wolfe Street, near Main. I remember him coming up Kelley Street from his office around noon for lunch. He seemed extremely tall to a younger me; however, he was of normal height—five foot eight or nine.
I remember vividly how happy he was when my sister and I arrived in early June to spend the summer with Grandpa and Grandma. By the time we got there, he had already planted his corn, string beans, tomatoes, potatoes, and so forth, but he had saved a special plot for my sister and me, which we named “the garden.” He had built benches and tables so we could sit and read or play games. Each year he painted them and replaced boards as needed. This was our special place for so many years. We lost this bit of heaven when redevelopment invaded Harrisonburg and our Aunt Ruby’s home on Mason Street was taken by the city in the name of “urban renewal,” for reasons we still cannot fathom. Our other aunts and our mother signed away our “garden” so Aunt Ruby could build a home on the northernmost part of the property.
One other memory that stands out is how devout a Christian he was. He was an ordained minister and sat with other ministers at John Wesley. Sometimes he preached; other times he offered prayers; but when the choir sang “I Love to Tell the Story,” he jumped straight up and sang robustly along with the choir (often the same verse over and over and over). George Newman served the Methodist conference as a circuit minister, assigned to smaller churches in the Harrisonburg vicinity. My mother often told of trips with him to some of the remote houses of worship. She enjoyed this special time with her father as well as the meals served after service.
He often visited his daughter Ruth in Washington, DC. On these visits, he felt it was his duty to go to the halls of Congress and get a feel for whatever legislation was being discussed. He believed that as a citizen he should know the workings of that organization.
George Newman was my grandfather, a man ahead of his time. The world was not ready for him, but he felt he had a purpose and he tried to fulfill it despite the odds.
