Our people did something many families of their time could not: they held on to their land.

Through sharecropping, segregation, economic hardship, and migration, your ancestors refused to let go of the soil in McBee that carried their stories. Land meant, stability, dignity, independence, and a future for children not yet born. That land is part of our inheritance whether you walk it daily or hold it in your memory.

Our family didn’t just attend church, they helped build it, sustain it, and lead it. Miles Newman donating land for the church, Carrie Johnson McFarland helping raise, feed, and guide entire generations, Aunts and uncles serving as pillars in New Hope UMC…

Faith was never separate from daily life; it was the foundation. This legacy of spiritual leadership still shows up today in how your family prays, gathers, and supports each other.

Our family’s tables have always been big enough. At Homecoming, birthdays, and funerals alike, the rule was simple: If you arrived, you were welcome. If you were welcome, you were fed.

This wasn’t just kindness, it was identity.

A tradition passed down through generations of women and men who believed community keeps people alive.

Our family is built from farmers, factory workers, domestic workers, servicemen and women, caretakers and later, nurses, teachers, entrepreneurs, and professionals

Many moved north for more opportunity. But they never left home behind. They sent money back, returned for Homecoming, and made sure the next generation understood sacrifice.

This determination, quiet and steady, still runs through your bloodline.

Some families drift apart, ours came together on purpose. Homecoming wasn’t an event.

It was a ritual that protected the family’s bond.

Generations showed up because they believed

roots matter, history matters, children need to know who they come from. Even decades later, that unity is strong because our ancestors insisted on it.

Our family endured racial violence, poverty, Jim Crow, loss, migration and the everyday hardships of southern Black life

Yet they thrived, not because life was easy, but because they refused to be broken. That resilience is our inheritance.