Nicodemus, Kan.
In a normal year, hundreds of people would be descending on this tiny frontier town in northwest Kansas to celebrate freedom.
But this year, the unique history of Nicodemus, the only remaining town west of the Mississippi River established by Blacks after the Civil War, will be celebrated like never before. And it’s happening at a time when global protests of racial injustice have also generated a greater appreciation of Black heritage and contributions to American history and culture.
Called the Emancipation Homecoming Celebration and observed on the last weekend in July, the event marks the exodus of roughly 300 freed slaves from Kentucky in 1877 to a new settlement on the Great Plains. Under the Homestead Act of 1862, each family could claim 160 acres to carve out a livelihood.
“Nicodemus is a story of freedom, of work ethic, ingenuity and a return to the soil. It’s steeped in self-government [and defines] what it means to be an entrepreneur, to establish yourself into a belief system, and where education is a bedrock,” says Enimini Ekong, a superintendent with the National Park Service, which manages the Nicodemus National Historic Site.
Because of Covid-19, the 142nd Emancipation Homecoming Celebration will take place exclusively online for the first time, says Robert Alexander, chairman of the event. Typical reunions attract between 400 and 800 people, and this year he hopes to draw 500 attendees and replicate some of the fun virtually, with historical presentations, video chats, a talent show, children’s activities and a “Family Feud”-style game.
“If everything works out, we’ll be able to connect to even more people than before” the pandemic, says Mr. Alexander, 64, a retired information-technology professional who lives in Wichita, Kan.
Kansas has never had a large Black population, which today stands at about 6%, according to the U.S. Census Bureau. But in some ways, LueCreasea Horne, a sixth-generation descendant of the town’s founders, sees Nicodemus embodying the message of the Black Lives Matter movement. “We don’t expect anything extra. Just give us the same chance as everyone else,” she says.
At its peak, Nicodemus was home to about 600 residents and boasted a bank, stores, a livery stable, two newspapers, a school and churches. But failed efforts to attract the railroad in the late 1880s, as well as the Great Depression, contributed to its decline. Today, the population hovers around 25. What has kept Nicodemus alive are the thousands of descendants of the original settlers who return for Homecoming. A typical celebration features a historical re-enactment and includes a dance, vintage baseball game, fashion show, pancake feed, 5K race and parade. “It’s in our DNA,” Mr. Alexander says.
Nicodemus homesteaders stand for a portrait in the late 19th century.
Photo: ShutterstockA few descendants are offering a glimmer of hope to the town with another kind of homecoming: They’ve decided to live there, some for the first time.
Fifth-generation descendant Marilyn Sayers-Gray, 71, was born in Nicodemus and lived there until age 5, when she and her family moved to the Los Angeles area. Throughout her childhood the family would drive almost 2,700 miles to the town and back for the annual Homecoming. “We were so excited to get out of the city and come back to Nicodemus and see the stars. We felt like we were free when we came home,” she says.
Ms. Sayers-Gray married and took a job with Continental Airlines, first in L.A. and then in Houston. After a 35-year career with the airline that ended in 2003, she moved to Nicodemus for good. “It’s a little old town in the middle of nowhere,” she says. “The only thing I can say is that it’s home.”
Ms. Horne, 42, was born in Topeka, Kan., and traveled with her family every year to Homecoming. When she was 12, her parents moved the family back to Nicodemus. But the town’s history hardly mattered to her. “When I graduated from high school in 1996, I got the hell out of here,” Ms. Horne laughs.
A few years later she became a National Park Service ranger stationed at the Gateway Arch in St. Louis. After 2½ years, she moved to Kansas City, Kan., and worked in education for various school districts. By 2015, her feelings about Nicodemus had changed. “I had a yearning in my heart that I had to come home,” she says.
Five years ago, Ms. Horne and her family moved to nearby Hill City, Kan. Today she works for the Nicodemus Historical Society, educating visitors about the town’s past. The organization deserves much of the credit for keeping the town’s legacy alive. Its founder and executive director, Angela Bates, also returned to Nicodemus after a long career that took her to metro Washington, D.C., and Denver.
Angela Bates, left, Marilyn Sayers-Gray, center, and Ms. Horne with her daughter, Lauryn Horne, right, in front of the Nicodemus National Historical Site visitor's center in July.
Photo: Beth DeCarbo/The Wall Street JournalMs. Bates, 67, is a fifth-generation descendant who grew up in Pasadena, Calif. But like her aunts, uncles and cousins, she returned to Nicodemus in the summer. “As a kid, I loved Nicodemus, loved it, loved it, loved it,” she says. She recalls “riding horses, pumping water, feeding chickens—all of the things we couldn’t get in an urban area.” In 1989, she returned.
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After launching the historical society, she built an archive of documents and photographs gathered from local families. A couple of years later, her cousin donated her late mother’s home to the organization, and the Ola Wilson House became the town’s museum. Ms. Bates then enlisted the help of then-Sen. Bob Dole to make Nicodemus a unit of the National Park Service in 1996.
In a recent email, Mr. Dole explained why preserving Nicodemus is so important: “The town serves as a reminder of both the struggles of African-Americans, as well as their determination to create a better life in their newly found freedom.”
A scene from the 2019 Homecoming parade. It shows a re-enactment of the Buffalo Soldiers, members of Black regiments of the U.S. Army established in 1866.
Photo: The Hill City TimesThe town faces greater challenges than staging a virtual Homecoming. It’s too small to support things like shops, restaurants and schools. And Washington Street, once the center of commerce, is cracked and buckled from age. More dire is the condition of the town’s historic buildings—especially the St. Francis Hotel, the old schoolhouse and Old First Baptist Church. They’re not open to the public because they’re in disrepair.
The roughly 3,500 tourists who visit Nicodemus in a typical year start at the visitor’s center in Nicodemus Township Hall, a charming limestone structure built in 1939. Around the corner, the Park Service is overseeing an estimated $1 million restoration of another one of the town’s five historic buildings, the African Methodist Episcopal Church.
“Through several means, we have been able to get the necessary funding,” Mr. Ekong says. “Our goal is to make sure that by next year—barring any shutdown or pandemic—that Nicodemus descendants will come back for the 143rd homecoming and sit in a sacred space erected in 1885 and modernized for 2020. Hopefully it will bring them to tears.”
Write to Beth DeCarbo at beth.decarbo@wsj.com
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