The Tree Saviors of Chipko Andolan

Australian Aborigine Dreamtime Painting

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You may download the files if you like. 

Don’t Cry For Me Babey, 

Here I AM! Portraits

Ernest-Lowe-PhotoBio

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They came from Arkansas, Oklahoma, Texas . . . put down new roots in settlements like Lanare, Fairmead, South Dos Palos, or Teviston . . . camps such as Harris Tractor Farm or Cadillac Jack’s Camp . . . neighborhoods in Stockton, Hanford, and other Valley towns. They were the Black Migrants, moving from rural to rural settings, a little known part of the Great Migration out of the Jim Crow south.

Some were recruited by cotton growers like J. G. Boswell. Others traveled west on their own initiative, fulfilling a powerful ambition to succeed, along with hope to escape the bitter racism they’d come up under.

From 1960 to 1966 I photographed them in the Central Valley’s onion and cotton fields, in their unknown settlements, in their tarpaper shacks and trailers. I recorded their stories so the world could hear their voices.

I was a freelance activist documentarian, never pretending to objectivity. I’d walk up to people in a camp or field and say, “I hear you folks are getting a raw deal. I’d like to take your pictures and talk with you so people back in the city can do something about it.”  They seldom turned me down.

Although my work documented scenes of dire poverty and backbreaking work, I was also committed to showing the dignity and humanity of these hard working migrants. I saw their strong families and sense of community, even the joy of turning an old rope and tree into a playground for the kids. 

Unfortunately the people I met also told stories of how Jim Crow had migrated to the Valley with them: sundown laws, race riots after football games, threats of lynchings.  Mothers and fathers told their children, “Just walk on by. Don’t stoop to their level.”

Black Migrants also faced another challenge: by 1961 when I photographed workers picking cotton by hand in a field near Pixley, agro-engineers had developed mechanical cotton pickers that virtually eliminated the need for handpicking by the families I was photographing.

When I returned to Dos Palos and Teviston in 2015 I found many of the folks I’d photographed in the 60’s living successful lives. The children in my 60s photos had succeeded in escaping farm work for jobs in service, hospitality, and government. Their parents’ determination, powerful work ethic, and love had paid off. 

Ernest Lowe

return to Black Migrants gallery

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While covering farm workers’ life, work, and union organizing in the 1960s I visited a number of African-American settlements in California’s San Joaquin Valley. These towns are a little known part of history, the results of the rural-to-rural stream of the Great Migration out of the Jim Crow south.  more

Fresno Art Museum Director Michelle Ellis Pracy curated the exhibition.
Joel Pickford made the extraordinary prints.
Mark Arax and Michael Eissinger provided valuable background information on the history of the African-American settlements.
California Humanities Community Stories Program, Fresno Art Museum and its donors, and West of West Center for Narrative History of the Central Valley have provided funding.

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In 1961 I pulled off 99
into Teviston
as a storm ended
and the dark sky opened
to let the setting sun shine
upon the shacks of Black Okies.

Teviston was lit up
puddles reflecting day’s last light.
The homes
pieced together from scrap wood
glowed intensely.

How would Lloyd Tevis
have calculated the value
of this one and only memorial
to his great wealth?
[link-library settings=”1″]

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Their house looked better than many of Teviston’s homes, but it was small. The parents had one bedroom, the ten children born by 1964 shared the other one.

Benjamin and Bertha Mae worked hard, often taking their family out to work with them in the fields. He also worked as a truck driver and she in a tortilla factory in Tulare. The older kids filled in, taking care of their younger brothers and sisters.

Benjamin and Bertha Mae inspired the Beavers children to get out of low-paying farm labor and find employment in service industries.

I photographed their oldest son, Charles, hauling water for his family and others. His younger sisters and their friends would ride along in the back of the pickup.

Benjamin led work on an American Friends Service Committee project to get Teviston a pump and storage tank so they and others could end the drive to Pixley to collect the water and distribute it.

Later Benjamin led development of a self-help housing project and the Beavers and other families worked together to tear down many shacks and build attractive stucco homes. That was after my long visit in 1964.

The Beavers worked closely with other families in community improvement projects, child-rearing, and enjoyment of life. Their close network of Teviston families shared Benjamin and Bertha Mae’s work ethic and their determination to see their children succeed.

When I revisited Teviston in March and April of 2015 the grown up children I found said they never felt poor back in the day.

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