The story of The Charlie Williams Estate, is one that spans generations. All of our Aunts and Uncles were born at home as their were no hospitals for them to go to. So for practical purposes there were births and possible deaths on this very land, This land has through the passage of time, seen the struggles and triumphs of our ancestors.
In 1868, the Alabama State Legislature created Chilton County from pieces of Autauga, Bibb, Perry, and Shelby Counties. The land was once part of the Creek and Choctaw nations prior to 1814 and Andrew Jackson.
In 1891, the General Land Office granted 158 acres to a man named Jasper P. Cost. listed as J P Cost on the Charlie Delia’s deed. The document was signed by then President Benjamin Harrison.
This was not the first land grant to the Cost family. Jasper P. Cost’s grandfather, Thomas Cost Jr., had received a land grant signed by none other than President John Quincy Adams on June 10, 1826. But history, as we know, has its complexities, and it’s worth noting that the Cost family once owned slaves. Our land, like our country, bore the scars and stories of those times.
In the early 20th century, on February 22 and 23, 1922, our grandparents, Charlie and Delia Williams, purchased 13.5 acres of land that leads us to where we are today, They purchased 5 acres from W. D. Jones for $175 and an additional 8 acres from J. P. Cost for a symbolic dollar. These transactions marked the beginning of a legacy that would be passed down through the generations.
Our land is located just north of the boundary line of Clanton, in fact the church next door is in the city Clanton, but the Charlie Delia Estate is not. Clanton, a town with its own place in history. It was here that early civil rights activist Ida B. Wells, a fearless advocate, reproduced a postcard depicting an 1891 lynching to educate the white public about the atrocities committed against African Americans. Our land stood as a silent witness to these turbulent times, a testament to the struggles and triumphs of our community.
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The Charlie Williams estate flourished over the years. Pecan trees provided afternoon shade in the front yard and a bountiful harvest in the fall, grapevines climbed trellises, and rows of corn, watermelons, peas, and various vegetables stretched out as far as the eye could see. A rooster would wake us in the morning and the sounds of chickens and hogs reminded us we were not in Detroit any more.
The smokehouse in the backyard preserved a bounty for the colder months. A well, dug deep into the earth, supplied water for drinking, cooking, and bathing, nourishing both the land and our family.
Moma Delia and Aunt Laura would always provide us with a great breakfast. It was like Cracker Barrell came to us. It was such a great experience waking up at the Charlie Delia Estate.
But it had not always been so perfect, life has a way of testing one’s mettle. In 1932, a devastating tornado roared through the land, destroying the home and injuring several family members. It was a dark moment in our history, but our family’s spirit prevailed. They rebuilt the physical house, and the remnants of that original structure still stand on the property today, a testament to our strength and resilience.
Our Grand Parents also experienced the loss of their oldest son Darious Williams to black lung disease while working in coal mines in Pennsylvania. So his two oldest children Eva and Darius Jr. came to live with his parents.
In 1960, Popa Charlie passed away, leaving Moma Delia as the sole owner of our beloved land. She continued to nurture it, ensuring that the legacy they had built together would endure.
In 1975, our grandmother Moma Delia joined our grandfather in the great beyond, but she left behind a Will that ensured the land would remain a part of our family’s story. She bequeathed it to each of her children and the children of her late son, Darius Williams, who had passed away before her. She included a statement that stated if any of her children tried to sell the land they would be disinherited.
As I sit here today reviewing the hundreds of pictures we collectively took on our recent trip to this land, I am reminded of the generations that came before me, of their struggles and triumphs, and of the enduring love they had for this piece of earth. Our land is not just soil; it’s a repository of memories, a testament to the journey of our family, and a symbol of our strength and resilience. It’s a story that will continue to be written by the generations that follow, a story of love, hope, and a deep connection to the land that has been a part of our family for over 101 years!
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