February 21. George Latimer. Around 1820 in Virginia, a stonemason named Latimer and a young woman, who was owned by his brother, had a son named George. George Latimer. And though his father was white, and George had his name, he was considered mere property. And he was treated like property.
He was a house servant until he was sixteen. After that, he was rented out like we might rent a power washer or a generator.
In the next couple of years, George was arrested and jailed—because his master had reneged on his debts. When he wasn’t jailed, the work days could be long and hard and the masters brutal. Today’s story starts in Virginia in September 1842.
There’s a time to wait, a time to pray, and a time to take a risk.
George hoofed it to work at his current master’s store. About half an hour before sunrise, George reached the market area. Suddenly his master’s angry gait became visible in the twilight. James Gray was headed for George, and he was carrying a thick stick.
The second Gray was within striking distance, he drew back and smashed the stick across George’s jaw and chided him for being late—though it wasn’t yet light and the stores weren’t open.
Gray hustled George to the store, and when they arrived, he ordered George upstairs. Gray brought the stick down on George’s back and arms—again and again. Fifteen times. Eighteen. Twenty.
Gray threw the stick. Said it wasn’t enough; he needed a rawhide. He ordered George to meet him at Roanoke Square, where Gray could get his hands on a cowhide to beat George with.
But when Gray left, George stayed. He refused to go to Roanoke for the beating. He just didn’t go. Later, when Gray called for help hoisting the meal, George did go, and Gray acted as if nothing had happened.
But George was planning to get away. He and his wife had been saving money, and now she was expecting a baby. She had told George she would never raise a child as a slave, so the pressure was on him to do something soon. He wrote, “I have thought frequently of running away even when I was a little boy. I have frequently rolled up my sleeve, and asked—‘Can this flesh belong to any man as horses do?’”
Within a month, George led Rebecca toward a ship bound for Baltimore. They boarded, and for nine hours, they lay—in the ship’s deepest storage compartment—on the stone used to stabilize the ship. George said, “As we lay concealed in the darkness, we could peek through the cracks of the partition into the bar-room of the vessel, where men who would have gladly captured us were drinking.”
At Baltimore, they slipped off the ship. George had purchased a first-class ticket for the rest of the trip. He posed as a gentleman, and Rebecca pretended to be his servant. As they crossed the gangway, George saw a liquor wholesaler, who had sold to Gray. George pulled his Quaker hat low, and he thought he and his wife had gone unnoticed. They hid in their cabin the rest of the way.
The next stop was Philadelphia—where slavery was banned. So from then on, George and Rebecca traveled freely as man and wife.
On October 7, the ship docked in Boston. Here a man could make his own way. Here their baby would be born free. They entered the city with real hope. But George saw another familiar man, and this time it was too late to hide. The man had worked at Gray’s store.
Thirteen days later, George was arrested. He stood accused of stealing himself.
Gray demanded the state of Massachusetts return his “property,” and the Fugitive Slave Act, required free states to return runaway slaves.
But abolitionists, journalists, and preachers—Black and white—visited George and fought for his freedom. Through them, George asked Bostonians to pray for his release.
Preachers shared George’s request. Abolitionists printed “Prayers for Deliverance” as the Liberator’s headline.
The people of Boston prayed for George and for the deliverance of all who were enslaved.
Then James Gray showed up.
“You just come on back peacefully,” Gray said.
George turned his back on Gray. George reported it: “He said if I would go back peacefully there would be no more trouble—he would like me out of jail and serve me well. I then turned toward him and said, ‘Mr. Gray when you get me back to Norfolk you may kill me.’”
Free Black men surrounded the jail. Abolitionists created The Latimer Journal, and urged citizens to take a freedom stand. George and the people prayed.
And God answered.
Legislation to protect human beings who had escaped from slavery was making its way through the system. But before it was passed, on November 18, Doctor Caldwell, a Black pastor from a local church, purchased George’s freedom with $400 raised by parishioners.
Soon Massachusetts did pass the legislation. The news reached all who dared flee to freedom. For forty-five years he went on working as a wallpaper hanger.
“Is any one of you in trouble? Let them pray. Is anyone happy? Let them sing songs of praise” (James 5:13 NIV).
For the trouble you’re facing now, what time is it? There’s a time to wait, a time to pray, and a time to take a risk.
Schneider, Janet, and Bayla Singer, eds. Blueprint for Change: The Life and Times of Lewis H. Latimer. Jamaica, NY: Queens Borough Public Library, 1995.
Gac, Scott. “Slave or Free? White or Black? The Representation of George Latimer.” Published March, 2015. Trinity College Digital Repository. https://digitalrepository.trincoll.edu/facpub/131/.
Story read by Daniel Carpenter
Story written by Teresa Crumpton, https://authorspark.org/