LE ROY PENNYSAVER & NEWS - MAY 1, 2022 by Lynne Belluscio Elaine Booten liked to walk. She would be out almost every day - - up East Avenue to East Main Street - - then up town - - a warm smile on her face. There were friends who would join her, chatting along the way. But my journey with Elaine was different, and at times, I would say to her, “Are you sure you want to go down this road? The memories might be difficult..” But she would always assure me, that it was ok. I’m not really sure exactly when she started sharing stories. I do remember back in 2001, when she and her husband, Mack, dropped off a newspaper article about Dorothy Layne McIntyre, who had been recognized by the International Air and Space Museum in a book about African American pioneers. Elaine said, “As a kid, we would walk across the fields to the Woodward Airport, and Russ Holderman would give us rides in the airplanes. That’s where Dorothy Layne fell in love with flying and vowed that she’d become a pilot.” In 2017, Elaine was by her husband’s side when he was presented with the flag that was flown over the United States Capital in commemoration of his service in World War II. Shortly after that, Mack went into the nursing home. Elaine called to tell me that she was cleaning out some things and found Mack’s baseball uniform from when he played with the Black softball team, the Aces. There were some newspaper clippings about the Aces. They drew huge crowds when they played. Ernest Woodward had a baseball diamond on his property facing East Avenue, and the Aces played there. In 1949, the team won the championship, but were denied the celebratory dinner and trophy. Mack never talked about it – just like he never talked about his service during the war - - but there was no denying that the Aces were a Black team and discrimination was a part of being Black. Mack went into the nursing home just about when the pandemic started. Elaine and her daughter had to visit through the window. Those days were hard. I stopped by the house one day, and there was a box of books by the door. “Elaine, what was the K.S.L Club?” I asked. She replied, “Oh, my. That was the Kate Steverson Literary Club. They met once a month to discuss Black history and art.” “Elaine, they were reading some pretty heavy stuff, including Gunnar Myrdal’s ‘The American Dilemma,’ and books by F.E.B. Dubois. There were children’s books, ‘Negro Folk Tales For Children’.” And after I said that, I looked at Elaine - - “Do you remember when they read ‘Little Black Sambo’ in school?” “Oh yes. I wanted to crawl under my desk or leave the room, because everyone looked at me.” The hurt was still there eighty years later. The pandemic continued to make things difficult for folks in LeRoy. I was picking up lunches once a week for three friends, including Ruth Harvie next door and Elaine. Sometimes I would join her at the dining room table and she would bring out some photos - - - and there were lots of photos - - - bags of photos. People posing for the camera. Kids playing. Men in uniform. I would ask, “Who are these people, Elaine?” And then I would learn more. “Who’s the young Black woman standing on a step with eleven children – they look like students.” “Well that’s Esther Steverson. She was my mother’s oldest sister. She taught in Hillburn, N.Y.” I had never heard of Hillburn, but I discovered that Esther had taught in the last segregated school in New York State. The Black parents fought to desegregate the school with no success. The NAACP hired Thurgood Marshall, to present the case and Hillburn was forced to integrate. This was 11 years before Marshall’s landmark case before the U.S. Supreme Court of Brown vs Board of Education in 1954. In 1967, Thurgood Marshall became the first African American Supreme Court Justice. One day, Elaine gave me a couple of sheets of paper. When she was in high school, she had been asked to give a history of the Steverson’s at a family reunion. “After the slaves were freed: William and Matilda Steverson left the Herdon plantation, in Georgia, with five of their children in a wheelbarrow and a side of meat, given to them by the lady of the house. They walked as far as Charlottesville in Virginia. Later they arrived in New York State in 1872. Then onto LeRoy in 1879. (Elaine told me that Matilda came to LeRoy first with the children and then William came by train. He had to ride in a cattle car, because he was Black, and when he arrived, he smelled so bad, Matilda made him take off all his clothes before he came into the house.) The Herdon slave owner was mean, so they chose the name of Steverson, who was nicer to them. Stevenson became the family name until the census of 1892. Then it was changed back and forth through the years from Stevenson to Steverson. William and Matilda lived on Union Street, Summit Street and East Avenue in LeRoy.” And so, I learned about Elaine’s family. Matilda Grey Stevenson was Indian – unknown birth date. William Henry Stevenson, according to the 1892 census, was 72 – which made his birth date 1820 - - he was was born into slavery in Culpepper, Virginia. And his owner during the Civil War, sent him south to Georgia. When he came to LeRoy he worked at Ingham University for a while and at the time of his death, he was a clerk in Ball’s Grocery Store. He died in 1910. As Elaine read through the papers, she said to me, “You know, I remember being in a house down the street. The adults would all be sitting in the kitchen, talking, and not thinking that we could hear them. I wish I had paid more attention, but I do remember them talking about the family who was living in the south after the Civil War. They were tenant farmers living on their own land.” Elaine looked at me, and said, “I remember the voice from the kitchen as if it were yesterday: ‘You know the Night Riders killed him. They pulled him out to the end of the road and put his head in the gate, and slammed the gate on his head.” I know I could never really understand what it was like. I do know, I was blessed to be allowed to take this journey with my friend Elaine. I will so miss talking with her. But she now has a different journey to take. My task now is to remember the stories and write about them so they are not forgotten. A Journey with Elaine Booten Photo from “The 1940 Book” The Steverson Family 15 East Avenue. Elaine Katherine Brooks (Booten) is seated on the ground, fourth from the right.
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