by Marian Huyck Grossi

Created on: December 29, 2008

VEILED IN THE BODY OF A CHILD

"Yeah, I'll be Henry Berry Lowrie."

"Who is Henry Berry Lowrie, DeShawn?"

"Let's see, you can be a Lumbee Indian," DeShawn said oblivious to his brother's question.

"What are you doing, trying to mess up my brains? I don't look like an Indian."

"Look here Darius, " DeShawn firmly told his younger brother, "you are going to be a Lumbee Indian. Those Indian's made our Granddaddy a part of their tribe."

With a baffled look on his face thirteen-year-old Darius commented, "We don't have a Granddaddy in any Indian tribe, what are you talking about?"

The two boys hunkered down on the cracked concrete, heads side by side, as DeShawn began telling his younger brother, "Our great-great-great, bunch's of great's back, Granddaddy, Henry Berry Lowrie, lived. He was a famous Negro outlaw, and nearly everyone was afraid of him."

Serious, DeShawn began admonishing his younger brother, "Darius, being an outlaw isn't anything to be proud of, and it's just the way things were then. Listen, today there are outlaws and don't you ever forget I told you. You'd better never become one."

Darius was wide-eyed, looking at his brother's face, he said, "DeShawn I ain't going to be no outlaw, I'm going to be a lawyer."

Nodding his head and smiling at Darius, DeShawn continued telling him about Henry Berry Lowrie, known as The King of Scuffletown, "The books at school say he was born about 1844 or so. They aren't sure because no one knows when he was born. His mama pushed him out and borned him and screamed to high heaven the whole time like our mama did when she pushed out Denia and D'Addicus for us."

DeShawn had a memory fit for record books, "Our people lived in some place I've never heard of named Hopewell Community in Robeson County, North Carolina. He was one kid in a family with 12 sisters and brothers."

"DeShawn where you been learning stuff like that? We don't have famous people in our family. We've been called slaves and working folks. A lot of people say our kin didn't know nothin' except working in some fat white man's fields he called his plantation." Darius held his ground firmly against his 10-months-older brother.

"Here, look at this picture," he whispered as he took the worn photo out of his pocket. "I tore it out of my book at school. He is our family, this man right there," DeShawn said, pointing to the picture of a nice looking black man, tall, thin and nice looking with fine features.

Continuing, DeShawn said, "I wouldn't mess with your brains none,

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