In July 2023, I embarked on a pilgrimage to revisit the lands where my enslaved ancestors were once bound in servitude. The journey began with a flight from New York City to St. Louis, Missouri, followed by a two-hour drive to the flat and lush terrain of Audrain and Callaway County. There, I had the overwhelming experience of meeting descendants of Newsom and Celia from various walks of life, representing both black and white communities. The main purpose of our gathering remains unclear, but for me, it was an opportunity to gain a deeper understanding of my ancestor's life, as well as that of her parents and possibly their ancestors. I also contemplated how Celia's fate might be judged if she were living in today's world. While honoring our ancestral past is crucial, we must also create space for introspection and critique within our family history. The case against Celia, now nearly 170 years old, has seen few true descendants able to share their voices, prompting me to offer my perspective as Celia Newsom's Great-great-great-great-grandson.

Together, we walked in the footsteps of our fallen ancestors, exploring the dilapidated remains of the old Newsom plantation. With the support of the Callaway County Historical Society, we shared stories from our collective memory, daring to envision a more just future that mends past wrongs through advancing historical family narratives.

As I transported myself back in time to 1855, I was haunted by questions about Celia's thoughts and desires and whether she would be proud of her descendants today. Anger, sadness, and pride consumed my mind and body as I searched for ancestral reasons, leading me to reflect on family anecdotes warning us about the powerful women in our lineage, often exemplified through tales of Celia. Though there is pride in the notion of self-defense in her case, I also grapple with feelings of disappointment that have echoed through my own life. Having witnessed countless accounts of domestic violence where women were the aggressors, I questioned whether such behavior could ever truly be justified, even in response to provocation. Nevertheless, I chose to undertake this journey with my cousin Casondra Turner, a black Newsom descendant, Nancy Compos Fogle, a white Newsom descendant, and my service dog Boss, to visit the old Newsom plantation in Fulton, Missouri. Our tour was expertly led by Bryce Gordon of the Kingdom of Callaway Historical Society.

What was once a thriving plantation community now lies in ruins, under the administration of the National Parks Service as part of the Mark Twain National Forest. The history of the Mark Twain National Forest is unusual, having once been known as both the Clark National Forest and the Mark Twain National Forest, both proclaimed on September 11, 1939. On this desolate land, all that remains is an old and neglected Newsom cemetery hidden amidst overgrown forestry, where ticks and cows now roam freely.

Turning my attention to my Great-great-great-great grandfather, Robert Newsom, I discovered that he was a man of both good and bad qualities, imperfectly coping with the loss of his deceased wife. His son David described him as a man of business acumen and a real estate pioneer, who migrated from Virginia to Missouri with his first wife, Elizabeth, and their children around 1819, eventually settling in Fulton Township, Callaway County.

The following day, I felt compelled to visit Mexico, Missouri, in Audrian County, where Celia first entered Missouri under the ownership of Robert Powell and Sisselia Morris Frances Murphy-Powell. Before this, Celia, along with her mother Charlotte and Jack, may have been natives of Kentucky and were gifted to Sisselia upon her marriage to Robert Powell. The Murphy-Powells, originally from Maryland, settled in Nicholas County, Kentucky, in 1796, and Robert served as a soldier in the War of 1812 before becoming an early settler of Audrain County. He was first married to Celia Murphy, of Kentucky. The Powell Family Graveyard, located north of the big house at Powell's Ford on the old home place of Robert Powell, rests on a hillside east of the main road, approximately three and a half miles north-northeast of Mexico, Missouri. This cemetery, measuring seventy-six by seventy-six feet, still belongs to the heirs of Robert Powell. Robert is buried between two of his wives, while the old slaves brought from Kentucky rest on the south side of the graveyard.

As I pondered Celia Newsom's perspective, I envisioned her disappointment and underwhelment that her true descendants are not fully championing her name, allowing outsiders to exploit her legacy. For Celia, her prize is the wealth of feminine truth and agency, which so many have benefited from but remain disconnected. Although many view Celia as an innocent victim subjected to forced sex and servitude, I find it difficult to solely perceive her in this light. In my eyes, she was a conscious 19-year-old who made a life-altering decision, which ultimately cost her life. Like all of us, Celia was dealt a hand of cards and may have sought to maximize her privilege in gaining proximity to Newsom wealth, as her dying confession was: 

As soon as I struck [Robert Newsom] the Devil got into me, and I struck him with the stick until he was dead, and then rolled him in the fire and burnt him up.

Amidst the reflections on Celia Newsom's life and the complexities of her legacy, my mind also drifts towards a contemporary issue that deeply intersects with the themes of female agency and autonomy – the landmark Supreme Court case of Roe v. Wade. This historic decision, handed down in 1973, recognized a woman's constitutional right to access abortion, safeguarding her bodily autonomy and reproductive freedom. 

Just as Celia faced critical decisions that shaped her life in the 19th century, women today continue to navigate challenging choices concerning their bodies and futures. Roe v. Wade acknowledged the importance of granting women the authority to make such decisions for themselves, emphasizing that matters of pregnancy and childbirth should remain personal and private, free from government interference.

As Celia's story provokes emotions of anger, sadness, and pride, it reminds us of the complexities surrounding the question of bodily autonomy. While it is essential to uphold the principle of self-defense, it is equally vital to recognize that violence, including murder, can never be an acceptable solution to conflicts or challenges faced by individuals.

Roe v. Wade and Celia Newsom's narrative both serve as powerful reminders of the enduring struggles for women's rights, the value of their voices, and the necessity to protect their freedom of choice. As we honor the history of our ancestors and seek to reclaim their narratives, let us also advocate for the continued recognition of women's bodily autonomy in the present day, ensuring that each individual is empowered to make their own life-altering decisions within a framework of compassion and understanding.

In my experience and the tales recounted by now deceased relatives, Celia's descendants have often faced apprehension. As a descendant of both Celia and Robert Newsom, I want my white relatives to know that I hold no anger and am eager to get to know them. It is not their fault that their family's history has been exploited due to one person's actions, and I hope they would also be interested in building a connection with me. Our collective families have lost their voice and agency to outside speculators and historians, making this an opportune time for us to unite and curate a more sound narrative that we can control in good faith.

In our effort to reclaim our family's storytelling and agency, I, along with a few courageous family members, established the Celia Newsom Foundation. The mission of this foundation is to combat racial inequities disproportionately impacting Black Americans through successful advocacy, research, and inclusive socio-political development. Moreover, we seek to accurately document the true history of Celia Newsom, thereby honoring her contributions to human rights and justice. The foundation aims to empower African Americans by providing opportunities for legacy-building and reparational-healing through research and community strategies.