Page xi →Acknowledgments

Few nineteenth-century Black leaders traveled as extensively as Martin Robison Delany (1812–1885). From the time he left Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, at the invitation of Frederick Douglass to serve as coeditor and roving lecturer for the North Star in 1847, Delany’s life was one of constant motion. These travels initially took him to all corners of the Black communities in the North and Midwest. By the 1850s, with his turn to emigration and Black nationalism, his travels expanded globally (Canada, Africa, and Britain). Delany’s experiences and adventures while traveling nationally and internationally exposed him to the exigencies and complexities of the Black experience, which he meticulously documented, thereby creating a rich legacy for posterity. Needless to say, his travels were not for personal gain or pleasure but were undertaken primarily in furtherance of the Black struggle. This was a preoccupation Delany gladly and enthusiastically embraced with love but with little to no expectation of personal compensation. Most often, especially in the early phase, he relied on the kindness and charity of strangers and abolitionists—men and women alike who raised donations. Some offered him shelter and cared for his horse; others gave him rides in stagecoaches. Through it all, Delany was never on anyone’s permanent payroll. His work involved many sacrifices, as he underscored, in the service of God and humanity.

As a Martin Delany student and scholar, I can venture the contention that we are yet to fully explore and appreciate the wealth of Delany’s legacy. The more we probe his writings, the more we are exposed to new insights, with rich and varied perspectives and viewpoints. Personally, studying and researching Martin Delany has been the most intellectually enriching and rewarding of endeavors. Through it all, I have been fortunate to benefit from the knowledge and expertise of other colleagues, friends and scholars many of whom I have acknowledged in several of my previous publications. For this study however, I will acknowledge two key individuals, both now deceased and in whose memories the work is dedicated: Ralph Archibald Legall (1925–2003) and Gerald A. Burks (1947–2009).

I first met Ralph by chance encounter at a bus stop on the corner of Richmond and Dundas in downtown London, Ontario, in the fall of 1980, shortly after my arrival in Canada. We struck up a friendship, and I quickly discovered Page xii →his depth of knowledge of Black history. Ralph was very generous. He invited me to his apartment on countless occasions, and over sumptuous meals (Ralph was a chef), we would engage in spirited but friendly discourses on the state of the Black struggles in America and across the globe. He was particularly passionate about developments in the Caribbean. Ralph was born and raised in St. Michael, Barbados, and had partaken of the experiences and struggles that the late renowned West Indian writer Austin Clarke described in his memoir Growing Up Stupid Under the Union Jack. Austin Clarke also hailed from Barbados and was a schoolmate of Ralph’s at Harrison College. I soon discovered that Ralph had also written a master’s thesis on aspects of the Black struggles in the Caribbean for the University of Winsor. Ralph was instrumental in helping to shape and frame my early thoughts about Martin Delany. Ralph was not just a personal friend, he was a family friend. He was very kind and generous to my wife and our son, Tosin. I lost contact with Ralph after completion of my studies and returned to Nigeria in 1985. We reconnected briefly by phone when I moved to New Orleans in 1991. He was then working as a Tennis instructor for the Kinesiology Department of the University of Windsor in Ontario, Canada. I did not hear from Ralph again until I read his obituary in 2003. In all our meetings and socializing, Ralph never once mentioned his stellar athletic accomplishments prior to immigrating to Canada. Ralph had won the Trinidad and Tobago Table Tennis singles title in 1949; he played basketball and soccer for both Trinidad and Tobago and Barbados, West Indian Cricket for Trinidad in the 1940s and 1950s, Davis Cup tennis for the Caribbean team against the US and Canada in 1954 and 1956, First Division soccer for the British Army and police in 1947, and cricket for the Lancashire League (England) in 1960 before emigrating to Canada. I found out about all of these after his death. What an amazing feat, and what a humble and unassuming human being!

It was also by chance that I met Gerald Burks. Our paths first crossed in 2007 at the Annual Conference of the Association for African American Historical Research and Preservation in Seattle, Washington. I had the privilege of being recognized as “Honorary Conference Chair” and thus became the focus of attention. During a preconference reception, I shared a table with a group of attendees that included Gerald Burks. It was at this table that Burks shared a volume he had edited containing primary and genealogical sources he had collected in an effort to, in his words, “identify my maternal ancestry and to prove that Martin Robinson (Martin Robison Delany) is part of it.”¹ The next day, to my surprise, he presented me with a copy of the book. This was an unexpected gesture of generosity for which I remain eternally grateful. Burks’s book Page xiii →is among the truly treasured classics on Martin Delany. I place it alongside the pioneering works of Dorothy Sterling and Victor Ullman. As Burks claimed, “In familial vernacular without the ‘greats’, I am his [i.e., Delany’s] nephew.”² He referred to Delany as “Uncle Martin.” Burks was a consummate Delany buff who spent considerable time and resources in pursuit of validating his ancestry. He traced his “great, great grandfather, James Robinson and great grandfather Harrison Robinson to Shepherdstown, Jefferson County, West Virginia, a few miles north of Charlestown,” Martin Delany’s birthplace.³ Based on his finding, and their uncanny resemblance, Burks considered Martin Delany his great-great uncle. This rich volume contains documents from United States census and genealogical data and plantation records dating back to before Delany was born. Burks traveled extensively and spent considerable time in the counties of West Virginia; in the process, he amassed a truly impressive and meticulous record that strongly supported his case. I have no doubt that had Burks not died, the trajectory of his research would have resulted in some form of publication that would have benefitted generations of Delany students and scholars.

I would be remiss not to acknowledge the singular positive influence that has nurtured a most welcoming and endearing environment for me and my family in Ames, Iowa: the Owusu family (Francis, “my little brother,” as I fondly refer to him; his lovely wife, Teresa; and their beautiful children). We have been inseparable ever since I met them during my campus visit to Iowa State University. Their home is my second home, and as madam Teresa always reassured me whenever I arrived at their doorstep uninvited and unexpected, “welcome home.” This welcome is not empty cliché or rhetoric. It is always accompanied by sumptuous meals rendered with love and affection. In over four decades in academia, during which I have taught in several institutions in the United States and abroad, my stay at Iowa State University is the longest. I attribute this, without equivocation, to the familial welcome and endearing influence of Francis and his family.

I want to acknowledge my immense gratitude to, and appreciation for, the two anonymous reviewers of the manuscript for the University of South Carolina Press. Working independently, they came up with similar suggestions for revision. I am truly grateful for their knowledge, insights, and constructive comments, which helped to enhance and enrich the book. Also, I would like to acknowledge, with gratitude, acquisitions editor, Ehren Foley, for his interest in Martin Delany and the professionalism and efficiency by which he handled the acquisition and review process.

Last, but certainly not the least, I owe immeasurable gratitude to my wife and friend, Gloria, and our children (Tosin, Toyin, and Chinyere). Their presence in Page xiv →my life, and their accomplishments and daily struggles, have sustained my desire to keep trudging on and remain intellectually curious and productive. They are indeed the reason I wake up every day with the deepest and profound gratitude for almighty God’s mercy and benevolence.