Mr. Martin was quiet and watchful as we strolled beneath the oaks. Until this moment he had shown few emotions about the past. On the subject of slavery, he seemed to prefer a respectful, almost intellectual detachment.

"This is hallowed ground," Mr. Martin said suddenly. "I feel like I'm walking in the footsteps of Jesus."

A pale orange light came from the west and threw long shadows of the tree trunks across the path. In the distance were the low silhouettes of two brick houses, built in the 1980s by the latter-day owners of the plantation.

"Some of my friends would resent this, our being here together," said Mr. Martin, looking around carefully. "Some of my in-laws, in fact, resent it."

For the first time, Mr. Martin allowed himself to ruminate. "The letters you showed me from my grandfather to your great-grandfather--I don't recognize his treatment during slavery as, say, the kind of slavery that television would have shown. There is nothing about his having been beaten. I have to wonder what kind of people the Ball family were."

I agreed that the letters seemed to contradict the usual stories about the plantation system.

Slaves in the FamilyBy Edward BallPage 211