A historian, researcher and curator, Dr. Julie Hughes is the archivist at the Wilton Library/Wilton Historical Society‘s History Room.
At least 100 people attended yesterday’s Juneteenth Celebration at Our Lady of Fatima Roman Catholic Church, hosted by the Apostolate of Black Catholics. The event commemorated the end of slavery in the United States, and particularly the moment on June 19, 1865, when the last enslaved people in Texas finally received the message of their freedom.
The evening was presided over by Fr. Reggie Norman, the pastor at Our Lady of Fatima and president of the National Association of Black Catholic Administrators, and a passionate speaker about civil rights, equality, and justice. The program of gospel music, speeches by Wilton First Selectman Toni Boucher and myself, prayers and messages of hope from Fr. Norman, and a well-attended mixer with refreshments after the formalities, started off with “Lift Every Voice and Sing,” a hymn well-known as the Black national anthem. Written by NAACP leader James Weldon Johnson in 1900, this hymn set the tone for the celebration:
Sing a song full of the faith that the dark past has taught us,
Sing a song full of the hope that the present has brought us
Facing the rising sun of our new day begun,
Let us march on ’til victory is won
Following opening remarks by Fr. Norman giving a history of Juneteenth, First Selectman Boucher presented an overview of the integral relationship between the endemic oppression of African Americans and the progress of our nation’s history, from the beginnings of slavery in 1619 and its after-effects in the Jim Crow Era up through the present. She then stressed ongoing efforts at the level of local government to do better and quoted Maya Angelou: “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”
After another musical interlude, I spoke about the conditions African American, Black Native, and Native American residents of Wilton faced between the 1840s and the 1870s. Outmigration was the norm, economic circumstances were difficult and getting harder, and Wilton’s Black population was plummeting. In particular, I spoke about three Black Wiltonians: John C. Walley, a former slave whose house still stands at 232 Danbury Rd.; Susan Jackson Dullivan, a Civil War widow who fought against racist double standards for her rightful government pension; and John Tonquin, Wilton’s last living former slave whose colorful life and wit in the late 1800s have often been used by area historians to make light of local histories of oppression.
Tangible reminders of slavery in Wilton are at risk today. The property at 232 Danbury Rd. is the site of the only remaining house in Wilton that was once owned by a former slave. It is currently for sale and there is nothing to prevent a new owner from demolishing it if they so choose, besides a 90-day demolition delay that the Town can impose because the house is on the Historic Resource Inventory. If it were an officially listed local historic property, it would be protected.
There is also the recently discovered Spruce Bank Cemetery at 331 Danbury Rd., another Wilton property that is currently for sale and being marketed for development. Archaeologist Dr. David Leslie of TerraSearch Geophysical used Ground Penetrating Radar to identify eight probable graves at this site where enslaved and free Black and Black Natives were buried for over 120 years. The known graves cover approximately 1,200 square feet, or just 10% of the area reserved for the cemetery in the original deeds dating back to 1749. As much as 90% of the cemetery may yet be undiscovered. On top of that, large areas of the developable area have not and cannot be surveyed by GPR.
State law makes it a Class C Felony to interfere with a grave. But it is up to local authorities — specifically the Planning and Zoning Commission — to set regulations for how close to a grave development may occur, and to decide if archeological monitoring will be required if development occurs in an area that may contain burials.
Prominent physical reminders of our own local histories of Black determination and perseverance, and of injustices suffered and imposed, are absolutely necessary. Like Juneteenth itself, these historical relics have the power to bring us all together, not in a melting pot but in a gumbo (to borrow a turn of phrase from Fr. Norman): separate but complementary cultural components enhancing and enriching one another, united into a whole greater than its individual parts.
Editor’s update: Dr. Hughes’s opinions are her own and do not necessarily reflect those of any organizations with which she is associated.








