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Oberlin Family Embraces Copeland HeritageAired February 13, 2003 Families are important to most of us - the central force that shapes and sustains our lives. For African-Americans denied normal family life during the generations of slavery, families are especially important. But for that same reason, it’s often difficult for African-American families to know their heritage, to trace the lives of ancestors whose unwritten stories are little more than family memory. One Oberlin family recently recaptured a heritage that was nearly lost, but has since become an important part of the American story. As ideastream’s correspondent Karen Schaefer reports, descendants of the Copeland family are still learning what the lives of a pair of famous brothers mean to them today.
Among those who died was a young man from Oberlin. John Anthony Copeland was just 25 years old when he was hanged for treason at a Charles Town prison. His was a family of abolitionists. His father John Senior was reputed to be a conductor on the Underground Railroad. So were two Oberlin cousins. Young Copeland had assisted in a daring slave rescue in 1858 that led to a warrant for his arrest. But John was never jailed, some believed, because he was escorting the runaway across the border to Canada. From prison, John wrote a last letter home to his three young brothers. William Copeland was eleven years younger than John, but he took his brother’s final words to heart.
Last summer, descendants of the Copeland family met for the first time in the small college town where their history is written large. Teresa Rector came to Oberlin from Washington, D.C. to share the story of her husband’s ancestor. It’s a story she pieced together from military and college archives, from newspapers, and from sketchy government records. It’s flavored by her own experience as an African-American. She recalls what she told an Oberlin College librarian when he asked her how, at 19, William happened to join an all-white Ohio regiment in the last year of the war.
Those others included members of other Oberlin black families who also served in all-white regiments. William personally witnessed the surrender of Lee’s army at the Appomattox Courthouse. After he was mustered out in October of 1865, he returned home to go back to school at Oberlin College. Five years later, William moved to Arkansas where he served two terms in the Arkansas state legislature in the Reconstruction government of the South. Although his record as a statesman has been lost, a 1985 issue of the Arkansas Historical Quarterly describes Copeland this way: A Democratic newspaper described William L. Copeland of Crittendon County, candidate for the position of secretary of state on the Republican ticket in 1876, as ‘a well-posted parliamentarian, a fluent and rather graceful talker, and withal a man of good political information...
Teresa Rector isn’t sure that William Copeland was one of those told to close up his desk and leave. But a few years later, he moved to Little Rock, got a job as a postal clerk, then joined the police force. It was there he died in 1885, bludgeoned to death by the man he was trying to arrest. William Copeland was the first black police officer in Arkansas to die in the line of duty.
William’s name is also inscribed on the National Fallen Officers Memorial in Washington, D.C. But like his brother John, commemorated both at Harper’s Ferry and in Oberlin, William’s story was unfamiliar to many descendants of the Copeland family. Daniel David Jensen is a retired Wisconsin fireman and police officer. With his blue eyes and blond hair, Jensen says he didn’t know he was descended from William’s brother Henry.
Dan Jensen isn’t the first person to discover a racial heritage he didn’t expect. But he believes his story and that of his Copeland heritage is part of the history of America.
In Oberlin, Karen Schaefer, 90.3. Suggested Websites: |