Oscar Joseph LeBlanc & Ophelia Louise Washington
“beau présent” for great-grandfather born in New Orleans in 1888
& great-grandmother born in Haiti around 1891
According to Louisiana census records, the parents of Lillian Lucille Stella LeBlanc, my paternal grandmother, lived together as common-law husband and wife in New Orleans for a little over ten years. Hexed by a neighborhood voodoo lady who kept the cursed band of his hat in a jar on a shelf in her home, Oscar spent the last twenty-four years of his life institutionalized, dying in Jackson, Louisiana at the East Louisiana State Hospital for the Insane. Other sources suggest that Ophelia struck him in the head with a cast-iron skillet, which resulted in the mental issues he experienced thereafter.
listen. the neighboring spirit ate
through his hat. put LeBlanc, Oscar J—
who is less and less a substance to ingest
at this point in the ritual—
in East Louisiana State to waste,
where we are wont to plague.
listen. the neighbor, her incantation was
strong—stronger than a single spirit’s—so tell us
who—how can a pistol—pearl or not—
help Ophelia. help Oscar?
in Louisiana and Haiti, a hat is a hat
is a hat? bitter? is the ash of the ghost
of Ophelia? we taste it now.
one of Lillian’s sons has a little
one. in the now, Ophelia, slip
us a piece of paper. people in gris
et blanc. signs, once begotten,
begin again in the hearer, though
one can sass. those who hear us
can’t see us three in a hospital
wall. while we spirits operate,
sign contraries, recall—who else can
slip through these people, this paper—
but Ophelia—who uses up
a potion’s ghost-pallor
to the bitter ash
Thomas Painter Ross
“beau présent” for 2nd great-grandfather born on April 15, 1843 in Mercer, Pennsylvania
Liberia, once described as “the terminus of the Underground Railroad,” was a 150-acre settlement established in Mercer by Thomas Painter Ross’ grandfather, Richard Travis, in 1825 for runaway people of color. After the Fugitive Slave Law of 1850, the entire community, including Thomas Painter Ross and his brother, John, evacuated to Canada to ensure their freedom. Richard Travis died the year Thomas was born, and their mother, Catharine Ross (née Travis) died when he was five years old.
meet them in Ontario.
men mean pain.
roam North.
home is a man torn past a tree
in rope. a thorn. a mother’s ire.
a name paints a person—
not me— a map. as soon as some
one terror eases, another
pair of men, in tatters, team in.
their memories stream.
some men mean.
same as throat can mean:
horns, roast, horse, post—
time passes the same as a man
sent to shoot his son passes—
in the street. another man sees
his teeth.
Josephine Ruth Walker
“belle présente” for great-grandmother born in St. Francisville, Louisiana in 1904
Josephine Walker (née Ruth) is said to have left her son, Isaiah, and her two daughters, with extended family in St. Francisville while she left to search for her children’s father and Isaiah’s namesake. Over fifteen years later, she finally returned to find her children grown with families in New Orleans, where she immediately resumed her relationships with her children and grandchildren. Whether she ever found her children’s father again remains unknown.
wake her. shake her
open. I see her son.
write that she is not
a saint. not the parish
seraph who seeks He
who is not there. she was
ripe with Isaiah. woke
to whispers. who eats—
ate—to satiate one?
hone the truth. a son
seeks a Ruth. a prophetess
who returns to his steps.
our sense of kin I sense
when I wake. note what
I inherit—what I want to
strike—or wake her with.
