By Gloria DULAN-Wilson
Hello All!
HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH!!
Hope you've been enjoying this BLACK HISTORY MONTH, and have been truly learning all you can about your own family's Black history and contributions to Black History - however small you might think it is. I'm certainly learning a lot about mine. In addition to my cousins Gregory, Tiffany and Terry DULAN making contemporary history for being named LA's First Soul Food Family, and the LA Rams a Heritage Restaurant, DULAN'S SOUL FOOD IS NOW NOMINATED FOR A JAMES BEARD AWARD FOR TRADITIONAL SOUL FOOD CUISINE! WOW!
And that can be attributed to the tradition in
our family of cooking and sharing delectable foods - most of which
recipes emanated from the kitchen of my teeny little 102 lb grandmom,
ZADY DULAN - of Luther, Oklahoma. She could - and did - cook everything
on a little woodburning stove - with foods grown in her own garden, or
preserves she put up in the root cellar in the front yard, and
distillations from herbs and spices she and Granddaddy grew themselves.
I think we all have been blessed with the can do spirit that is
emblematic of the DULANs of Oklahoma who get their start with very
little, but made it seem as if it was a banquet.
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| Granddaddy in front of the wooden house his dad built in Luther Oklahoma, ca 1970 |
That said, Today, February 25, 2022 is the 124 BIRTHDAY ANNIVERSARY OF MY GRANDDADDY SILAS SYLVESTER DULAN.
So, I'm saluting my Dad's Dad - from whom we take our family name!!
My grandfather was a unique character - Farmer, herbalist, father, entrepreneur, disciplinarian, and, above all, THE PATRIARCH OF THE DULAN FAMILY - in other words, Black in the day, his word was law to all members of the DULAN Family - regardless of where they lived.
Granddaddy assumed the father figure
responsibility at an early age - when his father, Ben DULAN- was
murdered for having broken away from a gang of outlaws - not so unusual
in Oklahoma Territory Black then - It appears, from family rumor, that
my great-grandfather Ben was a former member of the infamous
Doolin/Dalton Gang out of Missouri - who had the penchant for robbing
banks, trains, and other nefarious acts. He had escaped into Oklahoma
Territory before the Oklahoma Land Ruin of 1889, in order to participate
in getting free land for his family. He was smart enough to change
change the spelling of his name from "Doolin" to "DULAN" in order to
throw them off the scent. It worked quite well for a good long while:
In addition to having 16 kids, building a successful dairy farm,
starting a school (The DULAN School), my great grandpop led an exemplary
life: Deacon in his church, started an all Black school in the all
Black town of Luther, OK, (part of Jones County, OK - also All Black)
and some other laudable acts. Most people assumed that the difference
in the spelling of the last names (Doolin vs Dulan) meant they weren't
the same people. However, that didn't stop one of the gang members
finding him in his home, and shooting him in the back, killing him
instantly and leaving my great grandmom Anna a widow. (Spoiler alert:
there are rumors in our family that that little ditty about the coward
that shot Bobby Howard in the back was really about my great grandfather
Ben Dulan).
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| GRANDDADDY
SILAS S DULAN (second from right) with six of his fifteen brothers.
Some I recognize, others I don't. One of his brothers moved to Detroit,
one to Chicago, and the others were living in other parts of Oklahoma.
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At the time of my Greatgrandfather's death, my great uncle Roy DULAN, had already recently gotten married and moved off to his own ranch. My Granddaddy, who was second in line, ended up taking the responsibility for his siblings as well as his own young wife, Zady, and their family, to raise them and make sure they had decent educations, and a good start in life. He was 19 at the time, and a veteran of WWI - my grandmom, Zady DULAN was 16! Of my grandfather's 15 siblings, they personally raised and 10, putting them all through college, while simultaneously raising their own five children (one of whom died quite young) in a one room cabin, originally built by my great grandfather.
I never tire of hearing the stories of the early days and the challenges my grandfather and grandmom faced in making sure there was food on the table, they got a decent education, learned a skill, and did not "get in trouble."
As the patriarch of the family, Granddaddy's word was law - and if any one of us got out of line - and, being the first born grandchild, I was always out of line - our parents would bring Granddaddy in to lay down the law and give us one of his long anecdotal lectures; during which time you had better not roll your eyes, suck your teeth, or do any of the other disrespectful things kids tend to do these days. These lectures could usually last for an hour or so - and at the end you'd have to recite what you'd learned from that discourse. Whew!! My grandfather would always remark how he could see me stiffen my neck to endure the diatribe - which meant he knew it was probably going in one ear and out the other. (Hmmm... maybe that was TMI).
But I loved my grandfather dearly, and looked up to him. Not only did he grow the best Watermelon in all of Oklahoma, but he would pick us up in the school bus he used to drive kids to school in, could tell these tall tales about things in such a descriptive manner that you could literally see it in your mind's eye; would always give us silver half dollars for doing well in school; could pick up a rattle snake by the tail while it was still rattling, swing it around his head (five times) and then smack it upside the building so the head went off one way, and the tail went the other - still rattling (I'm an eye witness to this). His knowledge base was so vast that there was practically nothing you could ask him that he didn't have a working knowledge of. And he made the best punch on the planet!! Granddaddy was a WWI Vet, Patriarch of the family, Deacon in his church (AME), Dairy farmer - we always had freshly churned butter, milk, butter milk, and Grandmom's home made ice cream.
Not only that, Granddaddy was an herbalist! Now that could work for you and against you - his herbal remedies worked - but he didn't use honey or any other buffer to his concoctions, so you were always taking them in their raw form - talk about nasty, bitter, smelly!!! I'm the kid with the taste buds on the tip of my tongue. If I got one small taste of whatever it was he put together for me, it would take me hours of procrastination to get it down! It would then proceed to come back up. If that happened, I would have to take another dosage until I kept it down! You have no idea how hard I tried to keep it down.
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| Granddaddy and Grandmom 1964 |
Granddaddy loved and believed in family - and spent a great deal of time making the rounds to all his siblings to make sure they had whatever they needed, and to keep up with the latest things that were happening to them. Because of the Irish invasion into our genepool Black in the 1830s when the two Doolin brothers came to the US from County Cork Ireland, there appears to have been some residual blarney in his genetic code, which was apparently passed on to my Aunt Alene, my Uncle Adolf, my youngest brother Silas Sylvester DULAN II, and me (til now, I have never referred to the caucasoid invasion into our pure African gene pool - but it's there alright). In contrast, my Aunt Zethel, my Dad, Warner DULAN, Sr., my brother Warner, Jr., and my sister, Brenda Nell are as quiet as church mice - much like my Grandmom Zady DULAN, who was Black and Creek.
Granddaddy was a stickler for getting a good education, and insisted on excellent grades. Nothing below a B was acceptable - and you'd better be nearly dying to not complete a class or homework. This is instilled throughout the DULAN family lineage - there are almost no DULANs who have not completed a college education, or, at the very least, professional training that would be considered equivalent to an advanced degree. Though he only went as far as the 8th grade himself, he was well read, spoke perfect english (and insisted we do the same) and that we look whomever we were talking with directly in the eye, stand straight, and speak the truth respectfully and as honestly as we could.
We spent some wonderful summers at Granddaddy's in Luther Oklahoma, despite the fact that we had to use the outhouse and that same black widow spider's was there over the hand made wooden seat - year after year - waiting to bite someone on the butt.
Granddaddy, Adolf and Dad would go on hunting trips - and I'd be right there with them (I was young, and it was always an adventure) - shooting racoons, jackrabbits, possums, etc. I learned how to shoot by practicing on cans, and other objects - standing, kneeling, supine - in the manner of the Pershing Rifles.
Unlike Mom's dad, Enoch Gaines) Granddaddy Silas did not smoke, nor drink. Except for the occasional Mogen David for special occasions such Christmas, Thanksgiving and other special events, he was a teetotaler. He would give a toast to the family. The Mogen David was sweet, but did the job. Of course he didn't know that Daddy used to drink beer, wine and vodka on the regular.
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| (L-R Back) My Dad, Warner, Sr., GRANDDADDY Silas, GRANDMOM Zady |
(L-R Front) Zethel, Adolf & Alene
I can still hear (and use) some of his favorite statements: "What the Sam Hill...? and "Well, what do you know about that?" are two that I use the most. I'm sure if they were pressed my siblings and cousins could come up with a lot more.
When it was time to die, Granddaddy literally picked his own time. He decided that he seen all he wanted to see and it was time for him to join Grandmom, his wife of nearly 70 years, in the Happy Hunting Grounds. He literally stopped eating or taking any kind of foods or liquids - for weeks. They finally put him in the hospital and fed him intraveneously. When I went to see him, I teased him about being so stubborn, he said something about a girlfriend - I teased him about her, saying: "Granddaddy! you have a girlfriend! And you're not eating!!! Do you know how many guys your age would kill for someone one - and you're in the hospital. Give me your black book and I'll auction it off. I think that little bit of teasing motivated him to get up and go back home. He lived an additional year and a half before making his final transition two yearls later at the age of 91.
So, happy birthday Granddaddy - from GLORIA, BRENDA, WARNER, SYL, LaMONT, GREGORY, JEFF, TERRY, DANIELLE, TIFFANY - including Dad's grand children - your great grand children: Kira, Rais, Adiya, LaDonne, Sherri, Sherlane, and Silas III -and all the DULAN CLAN wish you a 124TH BIRTHDAY IN HEAVEN as you and Grandmom, Daddy, Alene, Zethel, Wanda, and Adolf smile down on us all.
Your loving number one grandchild:
Gloria Jeanne
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| Gloria DULAN-Wilson |
