Almost Doesn't Count?

Dear William Craft,

Do you remember me? I'm Robert Grambling, your old friend James Grambling's grandson, from Georgia. After you and Ellen escaped 12 years ago, some of us back here couldn't help to wonder what freedom was like. We heard about the dogs and hunters that were ready to capture or even kill any slave who dared to break away from chains, and we were scared to go. Some of us thought that it was better to stay a slave than to try and be free. We were never sure about what happened to you two.

In 1856, I learned how to read from another slave who sneaked and taught himself numbers and words a White man would kill him for knowing. Four years later, I was surprised to hear that you wrote a book about fleeing slavery in Georgia. I did all I could to get my hands on the book without anyone knowing. It's been my dream to gather my wife and kids and run away, but I don't know how. I was excited to hear about what happened to you and Ellen, but I also wished to get help with ideas for escaping. Yet, I was left a little discouraged.

See, I don't know if your memory still serves you well, but I am a very dark skinned man. I got permission to marry Sally Williamson in '57, and both she and our 3 kids are dark too. We would be labeled insane if we tried to hide our blackness. I'm thankful that we haven't been separated yet, but I know that it can happen at any time. When money is needed, we can all be sold to different masters without a moment's notice. I'm desperate to leave before this can happen. 

In your book, Running a Thousand Miles for Freedom, you wrote,

Knowing that slaveholders have the privilege of taking their slaves to any part of the country they think proper, it occurred to me that, as my wife was nearly white, I might get her to disguise herself as an invalid gentleman, and assume to be my master, while I could attend as his slave, and that in this manner we might effect our escape. (16)

These words scared me because my family and I can never be seen by Whites as "nearly [anything]" but animals. In Georgia and the rest of the slave states, we wouldn't be able to disguise ourselves as easily as you and Ellen. My wife couldn't perform Whiteness successfully. 

Someone gave me an address that you may now have, but I'm not sure how I'll get this letter to you without being caught. I just want to know if you have more ideas about how I can get my family to a life with more hope. I'm dying to know.

Sincerely,
Robert