The Story beyond Haygood’s Rock . . .

As Haygood’s Rock, a biographical novel, relates the story of educator Atticus Haygood, it exposes the ugly roots of white supremacism in America’s 19th-century South, through the voices of leading historical figures—North and South, black and white.  Their story is Haygood’s story, for he was an intimate partner in their explosive world, a key figure in the building/financing of Black colleges in the South.  And, to his gentlemen-peers, he becomes a radical traitor to his heritage.

            Haygood’s Rock weaves its epic tale from antebellum days—(pioneering days in Georgia)—through the Civil War horrors and the broken promises of Reconstruction, into the Jim Crow era, “integrating” Haygood’s life with the lives of Black leaders, including Rev. Henry Turner and Booker T Washington.  At the same time, it unmasks his contacts with prominent Ku Klux leaders of his day. Northern perspectives, too, find their compromising place: Haygood’s friendship with one “radical” Republican—Rutherford B. Hayes, his fellow activist for Black education and civil rights—lays bare the stark differences in Northern and Southern positions and passions.

           

Atticus Haygood – 1859


    let’s not go there.  Read the book.)

How did Haygood’s transforma-tion come about?

 It was no born-again experience, nor does biographical research show a shred of written evidence to clarify his change—for which he was called a heretic and a traitor and, in the end a—(but

While researchers might look to Black (male) leaders or religious figures, our story gets much more personal—to his intimate relationships.

Pulpit Rock – circa 1848

Attie set out as a boy of nine to preach from the giant rock mysteriously placed behind his childhood home, letting winds carry his messages to the birds, his little sister, and to whoever might listen.

Yet, like his unconventional parents, young Attie learned not only Latin, Classics and biblical stories, but the deeper lessons of life: to become the listener, to listen to the messages from life that told him an alternate story—even if it shook his faith.

And it did. How could God fail the South? The ‘War for Southern Independence’ and its aftermath jarred him. The sudden freedom for the enslaved shook him more.

So he began again to listen: What was God trying to tell us?

Bottom: Emory’s Gate
 As he preached the Christian Gospel, circuit-rider Atticus Haygood spread the doctrine of his Church.  After the War, he grew more questioning.

    As postbellum president of Emory College) he stunned his audience with his startling perspectives: Seeing science as God’s evolving  Book of Revelations, Haygood pondered: “Jesus said he is light. What if He really meant it?”

    Seeng the Black man as his brother, he asked:  "Is he not our equal in the eyes of God?—And should he not be protected equally  under our laws? 
Dr. Haygood at his desk

If Dr. Haygood ‘s Emory College was struggling to survive, it was only a reflection of the world around it. He felt he could do his part; he wrote Our Brother in Black: His Freedom and His Future— jolting the consciences of both South and North.

As Haygood broke ranks with his white peers, becoming the butt of their jokes—a traitor, heretic— his words spread north. Both Racial Republicans and Northern philanthropists began to listen. He became the flame burning for Black equality that the ex-Confederates sought to squelch.  

Dr. Haygood emerged as a key player in the transformation of struggling Negro schools into the historic Black Colleges of the South, a critical step on the road to racial equality in America.