Where Mercy Is Shown, Mercy Is Given - Duane Dog Chapman [19]
“You might find it interesting to know they were all buried with their feet pointed toward the Potomac River.”
“Why is that?” I asked
“That’s how they wanted to be buried, so their spirits would head up the Potomac when they left their bodies, which is the opposite direction from where they arrived.”
I was choked up at the thought of all of those people who were buried under the ground that I stood on. While the others headed back to the car, I asked if I could stay a few more minutes. I wanted to pay homage to my brothers and sisters.
As I peered out over the rolling hill and toward the river, my mind wandered, conjuring up images of what this property had looked like in its day. I closed my eyes and could see all the families all together, children dancing around a large bonfire with their parents. I imagined George Washington having fun with his people and what it would have been like if I had lived back in that time.
The guide could see that I was visibly upset.
“Why are there no markers here for the dead?” I asked
He stammered over his words, saying, “We don’t really know who is buried where. We don’t have their names or know the location of each body. They are scattered all over this hill.”
His answer angered me. Did the great civil rights leaders of our time know about this? I wanted to shout over a loudspeaker, “Someone needs to get these graves marked!”
The Mount Vernon Ladies’ Association had purchased Mount Vernon from the Washington family in 1858. They opened the property to the public in 1860. Since that time, nearly 80 million visitors have toured Washington’s home, and no one has thought to mark the graves of the slaves who worked there? I was fuming. The guide explained to me that Mount Vernon runs independent of the government, and no tax dollars are expended to support the five-hundred-acre estate, its educational programs or activities. I offered to pay for a marker myself. I told the guide money was of no concern. He reluctantly said he’d pass my offer along, though I could tell he didn’t hold out much hope.
I’ve fought for many things in my life, but never for anything more worthy than giving these slaves their due. Again, I told the guide that I really wanted to pay for a general grave marker. I needed to get in contact with the right people to make that happen. I felt an inexplicable connection to the hallowed grounds of Mount Vernon that day, so much so that I wish I could be buried right there too. It would be an honor for me to lie beside these unsung heroes of American history with no headstone.
I felt jubilant that day because I thought I’d be able to contribute something of significance to the heritage of our county, and that made me feel really good. I was happier than I had been in years. I can’t really give you an explanation on why, but there’s not a single day that goes by where I don’t think about those graves and how to get them properly marked.
In my life, I’ve always had the drive to help people I’ve met along the way who I believed had potential and were worthy of a second chance. I’ve used that intuition for years as both a bondsman and a bounty hunter. Bail bonds is a user-funded service. My clients have to give me some type of collateral to secure the money I put up for their release, to guarantee that they will appear in court. If they don’t, all of my assets, including my checking account, my income—everything—are on the line and can be subject to garnishment.
A bail bondsman is someone who acts as a surety and pledges money or property as bail for the appearance of a criminal defendant in court. Bond agents have an agreement with the local courts to post an irrevocable bond, which will pay the court if any bonded defendant does not appear. The bondsman usually has an arrangement with an insurance