Lt. Col. Allensworth had secured more than 9,000 acres “of the richest land in central California,” he wrote to Booker T. Washington. The settlement was on the main line of the Santa Fe Railway. According to Dean, Allensworth was the only transfer point between Los Angeles and Fresno at that time.
“In essence, it was a shining example of Black self-sufficiency and prosperity,” Dean said.
A railroad diverted
At Colonel Allensworth State Historic Park, visitors can peek into the windows of each structure — the schoolhouse, the library and homes. The nearly 20 buildings are meant to look like they would have looked in 1908, complete with outhouses, furniture, books and even fake food in the kitchen of Lt. Col. Allensworth’s home. There’s a bizarre ghost-like quality to the buildings on days when there isn’t a celebration.
In a self-guided tour of sorts, visitors can call a number to hear a brief recording describing aspects of each building. The recording also describes the railroad station that connected Allensworth to the outside world.
“Trains brought friends and relatives, mail supplies and building materials,” a recorded voice says. “Most important, freight shipments supported the town’s economy.”
In 1914, a new stop was created in a neighboring white town and the number of shipments from Allensworth severely declined. That’s one of the factors that led to the town’s demise, according to Jerelyn Oliveira, who leads tours of the park.
“They added tracks over to the little community of Alpaugh, which is west of here by about seven miles,” she said. “All that agricultural product was being transported from Alpaugh instead of Allensworth. So the money started slowing down, dwindling, and then the trains stopped stopping here in 1929.”
Water was another issue. The Pacific Water Company built only four wells for Allensworth, compared to the 10 wells built for Alpaugh, according to a report released by the Reparations Task Force in June. Allensworth’s wells started drying up, and the water became contaminated. The settlers were “victims of a racist scam and were sold land that would never have enough water,” the report noted.
Denise Kadara’s mother, Nettie Morrison, moved Denise and her siblings to Allensworth in the ’70s. For almost four decades, Morrison helped keep the memory of the town alive through park events, like the Juneteenth celebration. Though she passed away in 2018, her children — including Kadara and her twin brother, Dennis Hutson — are continuing the legacy.
“All we want to do here is bring the community back, and make it a thriving community once again,” Kadara said.
Pride and sadness
When Butler disembarked the train in the blazing heat, she walked across the tracks to wait for the small bus to take her to the schoolhouse. There, Butler told the docents that she heard a story about how Gloria Harris, her sister-in-law’s mother, had carved her name into a desk. She didn’t find Harris’ name on a desk, but one of the school’s record books confirmed Harris did attend the one-room school.
Several other visitors walked across the school’s creaky floorboards and examined the desks, including Latrice Hutchings, who took the train from Stockton.
“It feels amazing. There’s a sense of nostalgia,” said Hutchings, who had previously visited the park a few weeks prior to the Juneteenth celebration. All of the buildings had been closed then, and she could only look through the windows.
“It’s awesome to be inside,” Hutchings continued. “You feel a little bit emotional and you feel a little proud, because you can see that they had a good life here.”
Gail Autry, who boarded the train in the Bay Area, said she had mixed emotions being at the park.
“I kind of want to cry,” she said. “Any time I’ve ever gone to a different plantation, it’s just the feeling of pride, of sadness, of how they made it.”
A road map to repair
Sen. Bradford, of the Reparations Task Force, is focused on bringing attention to the accomplishments of Black people and properties they owned at the turn of the century, such as Val Verde and Bruce’s Beach.
