Dunk Ingram

Greek philosopher, Diogenes was once asked why he was walking through town, in the middle of the day, carrying a lighted lamp. His response? 'I'm looking for one honest man.' Thus, his answer was the impetus for me deciding to tell you the story of an everyday individual, a remarkable man, who died in 1947, who was financially poor his entire life, was not famous, nor bitter about the hand life had dealt him.

William Ingram, known as, 'Dunk' Ingram, 'Bruh' (Brother) Ingram, 'Uncle Dunk,' 'Nick' or simply 'Papa,' to friends and family alike, was born in Colbert County, Alabama, located in the northwest part of the state, during the Presidency of Ulysses S. Grant, on March 21,1872, some seven years after the end of the Civil War, the assassination of Abraham Lincoln, as well as the end of slavery. He was born to the union of Charles Thomas Ingram and Polly Ingram.To say it was a hard scrabble existence for the Ingram clan, is a gross understatement. Like all blacks during Reconstruction and beyond, Dunk Ingram was placed at the mercy of racist whites. He was forced to confront the 'Jim Crow' laws of that time. In spite of that, he learned the values of putting his faith in God (not man) and soldiered on.

A grade school dropout, which was not unusual during that time for a young black, he spent his youth working on farms. The ensuing years helped bring about a steely resolve in Dunk Ingram. Having been raised in rural Colbert County, he understood the value of hard work. He also understood the discipline it took to sustain a productive life.

Exeline Ingram

He would eventually marry, however, the marriage would not last long, as his bride would die, after a short period of time. (This union did not produce any children). He would later meet a lady named, Exeline Scott, who was born in Corinth, Mississippi, in February, of 1888, and as he, was a Christian. He would later marry Miss Scott, on December 27, 1902, in Morgan, Alabama, and this second marriage (her first) would produce eleven offspring, of which ten would survive. (A daughter, Elle Ingram, would die shortly after birth, in 1908). This union would also last for the rest of Dunk Ingram's life, almost fifty years.

The surviving children of Dunk and Exeline Ingram* consisted of four boys and six girls. The boys were Robert Ingram, nicknamed, "Duty," Samuel Ingram, nicknamed, "Pete," Frank Ingram, nicknamed, "Good," and John Ingram. The girls, Willie Shorter, nicknamed, "Sister," Lorene Miller, nicknamed, "Lo," Magnolia Curtis, nicknamed, "Mag," Mildred McClain,** nicknamed, "Priss," Murline Foster, nicknamed, "Mutt," and Creasie Moore, nicknamed, "Bunk," rounded out the Ingram family.

Dunk Ingram, from the very beginning, left no doubt who was in charge of his household. Being a husband, along with the resposibility of helping raise ten children, was a handful, to say the least. Also, being an Alabama sharecropper had its challenges as well. Mr. Ingram did not allow his wife, "Eck," as he affectionately referred to her, to work outside the home. She concentrated on taking care of the household resposibilities, such as cooking, cleaning and tending to the other needs of the children.

Though, he was a devout Christian, Mr. Ingram was by no means a pushover... Just the opposite. There were a few encounters with racist whites during the early part of the twentieth century. He was confronted by three white brothers who had every intention of physically assaulting him. Mind you, Dunk Ingram stood about 5'8" and weighed over 200 lbs. Being outnumbered, he could've chosen to run, however, he decided to fight. He deliberately backed up against a wall, so that none of the attackers could get behind him. As the men advanced, Dunk Ingram produced a sharp-edged pocketknife and swung it at his closest assailant. The knifethrust missed, as the attacker jumped out of the way. This went on for several harrowing minutes, as "Uncle Dunk" continued to swing his pocketknife at the angry white men. When all was said and done, there weren't any casualties, as the brothers gave up and left the scene.

He also encountered problems with the white landowners, who allowed him to sharecrop on their land. One farmer told him, 'Mr. Ingram, if you go to vote today, I'll have to ask you to move.' (By then, blacks had been given the right to vote). Mr. Ingram responded with, 'I'll leave right now, because I have the right to vote.' This happened on several occasions, with Dunk Ingram refusing to cowtow to the white man's wishes and demands. His oldest child, Willie, told me, 'there were many times I came home from school and found the wagon loaded, as we had to leave a crop we had planted, because Papa had gotten into an argument with the white landowner.' She said the family 'moved all over northwest Alabama. She went on to say, 'when the older kids went to help in the cottonfields, the landowner of the cottonfield would ask Papa, where's your wife? Papa would respond with, where's YOUR wife?' The owner fully expected Mrs. Ingram to be out there helping pick the cotton.

Dunk Ingram also had a brother named, Zack Ingram, who needed Dunk's help in escaping from a lynch mob in Alabama. Allow me to set the scenario... The 'Jim Crow' laws that were in effect at the time, did not allow the most basic rights to black people. So, when Zack went out for a walk one day and came upon a footbridge, custom/law stated, if a white person came upon that bridge at the same time a black person did, the black person was supposed to wait until the white person had crossed, before attempting to cross it himself. However, Zack, dressed in a suit and tie, decided to cross first, even though a white man was at the other end. The enraged white man rushed to meet Zack in the middle of the bridge and, after hurling a racial slur at Mr. Ingram, pushed him off the bridge, into the mud. Also enraged, after what had just happened to him, without hesitation, he pulled a pistol from his pocket and fired, fatally wounding the man. He then ran from the scene, later imploring the help of his brother, Dunk. Dunk was able to slip his brother out of the area, however, he (Zack) was never seen or heard from again, to this day. A footnote to this incident... While searching for Zack Ingram, an angry mob of white men forced their way into Dunk Ingram's home while he was away. Terrified, Mrs. Ingram watched, as they searched the house. They later forced her and a male relative to accompany them to the barn, where they forced the relative to climb a ladder to the second floor of the barn and tell them if Zack was there. Once it was established he wasn't, the mob cut open bags of cottonseed and scattered the contents all over the barn, as a sign of their rage. One source I asked about the home invasion, told me, 'if Papa (Dunk Ingram) had been here, somebody would've died, probably Papa, because he wouldn't have tolerated anyone threatening his family.'

The Ingram family eventually made its way to southern Illinois, settling in rural Pulaski, located sixteen miles north of historic Cairo. Again, white racism reared its ugly head, as there was another incident involving Mr. Ingram. He was in a wagon, on a dirt road, when a local white farmer spotted him, along with other family members, and for some unknown reason, started yelling at him, telling him to get off his property. According to sources, with whom I spoke, and who were in the wagon at that time, Mr. Ingram and his family were on a public road and not on the farmer's property. The farmer moved closer to the wagon, as he continued to yell. Having heard enough, Dunk Ingram pulled a hammer from a toolbox, located in the wagon and threatened to hit the man with it. Mrs. Ingram grabbed her husband's arm, attempting to calm him. He told the farmer, 'I'm not on your property, this is a public road!' The farmer decided that discretion was the better part of valor, and backed off.

Despite the hardships, it wasn't all doom and gloom in the Ingram household. Dunk Ingram was an accomplished guitar player. Daughter Willie was a mandolin player while son Robert was also talented on the guitar. The family would literally make their own music. When it was time to stop, the music stopped, without any discussion. He was the boss, plain and simple. I was told, on a number of occasions, 'papa covered the ground on which he walked. He was very much a man.' There were times when he had to not-so-gently persuade his children, with a belt or switch, that as long as they ate his food and lived under his roof, they were going to do what he said.

As Dunk Ingram reached his twilight years, health problems started to arise, as they always do. He had developed cataracts and was starting to become somewhat forgetful. In spite of this, he was still viewed as a strong man. His family and friends loved and respected him. He started having prostate problems near the end of his life. He was hospitalized at St. Mary's Hospital, in Cairo. He was diagnosed with prostate cancer and was given medicine, however, it was too late. Remember, the medical technology wasn't as advanced, in 1947, as it is today, especially concerning prostate health. Dunk Ingram told his family, at the hospital, as they gathered at his bedside, 'I'll take this medicine, but I know it won't do any good.' He went on to say to friend who had visited him, 'I prayed for this day, a long time ago.'

Doctors and nurses told his family they knew Mr. Ingram loved God, because he became 'happy,' and shouted as he sung old hymns. His family later joined him at his bedside and sung along with him. The family knew the end was near, and tried to hold up as best as they could. Some days brought tears, to say the least, after some hospital visits.

According to his eldest child, Willie, she had a prophetic dream one night involving her father. In the dream, she, along with her husband, Julius Shorter, and her father were walking in the woods. They came upon a stream and, as Willie looked into the clear water, she couldn't see the bottom. She asked her father, 'Papa, how are we going to cross?' When she looked up, her father had already crossed, without looking back. She called out his name, as he never turned her way to answer her, continuing to walk, while leaving she and her husband on the other side. She awoke with a deep sense of sadness, feeling that her father was about to leave this world.

Saturday, January 11, 1947 was the last day of Dunk Ingram's life, as his daughter Willie described to me how she saw him take his last breath. He took a deep breath, exhaled, and died. Dunk Ingram was 74 years old. Willie told me her father wasn't just a father, but, 'my best friend.' His death rocked her to her core. She couldn't fathom the idea of going on without her father.

St. John's Missionary Baptist Church, in Pulaski, Illinois, was packed for the funeral of Dunk Ingram. Willie told me that she was able to keep her emotions in check when she entered the church, however, when the casket was opened and she saw her father lying there, according to her, 'I went out!' She screamed, 'Papa! Papa!' She went on to say, 'I kept screaming, but Papa couldn't hear me. He was laying there like he was asleep.' Willie, overcome with grief, bolted from the church, with ushers in pursuit, into the parking lot, sobbing uncontrollably. The ushers caught up with her and worked to calm her. They were able to settle her. Dunk Ingram's wife was heartbroken, as she was about to begin a new life without him, for the first time in almost fifty years.

The eulogy was given by Reverend Owen H. Whitfield, who told those in attendance that the men in the community should check on Sister Ingram, along with helping her with bringing in firewood and etc. He went on to say, 'Sister Ingram is here, in body only. When Mr. Ingram died, a lot of Sister Ingram died with him.' Following the service, the remains of William Ingram were laid to rest at Henderson Cemetery, in Pulaski, just off U.S. Highway 51, across the Illinois Central railroad tracks... I guess, had Diogenes met Dunk Ingram, he would have found, one honest man...


 

*Exeline Ingram, also known as, 'Grandmone,' to her grandchildren and great grandchildren, lived another 15 years, until her death, at age 73, on Wednesday, January 31, 1962, her daughter Willie's 58th. birthday. She too, was eulogized by Reverend Owen H. Whitfield, and is also buried in Henderson Cemetery, in Pulaski.


 

**Mildred McClain, the last surviving child of William and Exeline Ingram, died on Sunday, December 13, 2009, in St. Louis, Missouri. She was 92 years old.