Throughout June, we’ll be highlighting the men and boys whose stories, milestones, and presence continue to leave a mark on our family and community.
On this Father’s Day, I honor my dad, Winget Lamison, a man of faith, discipline, sacrifice, and quiet strength.
Dad was married to Beatrice Barnes Lamison, the eldest child of Langston Barnes and Rhea Mae Blow Barnes. Together they raised nine children, four boys and five girls, during the difficult years of the Jim Crow era. Raising a large family under a system that denied Black Americans equal opportunities required extraordinary determination, resilience, and faith.
A farmer in Southampton County, Virginia, Daddy worked hard to provide for his family. The demands of farming were relentless, but Sundays brought him joy and renewal. As a deacon at Bryant Baptist Church, a member of the choir and the male chorus, his faith was at the center of his life.
Because our family was too large to fit into one car, Daddy made two trips to church every Sunday to ensure that all of us attended worship and Sunday School. He believed deeply in teaching strong moral values. In addition to church, he took us to the Good Samaritan Hall each month and encouraged us not only to attend church, but to actively participate.
With little more than faith, hard work, and determination as his tools, Daddy helped build a foundation that would bless generations. All nine of his children went on to successful lives, earning a combined six bachelor’s degrees and five master’s degrees.
Among his children were two twenty-year Army veterans, educators, and professionals in various fields. He was especially proud of his oldest son, Cleveland, who became the first college graduate on both the Lamison and Barnes sides of the family.
Daddy never missed an opportunity to tell people that his son was a schoolteacher and later an assistant principal.
One of my strongest memories of Daddy is seeing him on his knees in prayer.
Morning and night, he prayed faithfully.
He insisted that we give thanks before every meal and taught us that faith was not simply something to talk about, but something to live.
Those values became one of his greatest legacies.
Although many saw him as a quiet man, those of us who knew him best experienced his humor, his North Carolina stories, and his playful jokes.
Behind his reserved nature was a man who loved to laugh and make others laugh as well.
I can honestly say that I never saw my father take a drink of alcohol or smoke a cigarette. He lived a life of discipline and self-control.
It took a strong-willed man to raise a large family, work a farm, serve his church, and remain steadfast during some of the most challenging times in American history.
There is an old saying that claims the difference between an elevator and a Black farmer is that an elevator can raise a whole family while a Black farmer cannot.
Daddy proved that saying wrong.
Through hard work, faith, sacrifice, and love, he raised not only a family, but generations of opportunity.
Thank you, Daddy, for sticking it out.
Thank you for your prayers, your example, your sacrifices, and your unwavering commitment to your family.
You did raise a whole family.
And we are forever grateful.
By Leatha Lamison-White
I remember Long Drives to the country
Smells of cows, pigs, chickens, and manure
The first time I saw cotton- and knew what it was.
My Grandfather was a sharecropper
And after my Father explained what that meant
I always loved Hugging Granddaddy
It was like hugging a piece of history.
Not like school though. Nothing distant or faded
In this history. His story was alive and vibrant..
And I lived part of it. I remember all of it.
Playing with the pigs…the squealing baby pigs
And then me squealing as the Mama pig
Came after me with a grunt and a snort
Teasing the cows who could care less,
As they swatted flies with their tails
And giggling as Granddaddy told us
To leave those cows to their business
Riding on the tractor with him…
No indoor plumbing
Wishing I could buy them a house.
Seeing my Father in him and wondering
Is this how Daddy will look…one day?
I remember the last time he was home
For Christmas.
Before the nurses,
And understanding as an adult
The meaning of quality time.
Taking him to the Garden of Lights
Taking pictures with him…
The time I spent with him and Grandma
Together in their house…
Feeling grateful, grateful for pictures
Grateful for stories.
His 100 dollars for a year of work (back in the day)
That share-cropping one hundred
Delivered at Christmas
My Father told me about one year
The Man tried to keep from paying
My Grandfather his hundred.
I felt pride in knowing that my Granddaddy stoop up
For what was owed to him and his family
Stood up when it was safer not to.
Stood up to make things better for me.
I remember
Picking Collard Greens in the Garden
I remember Sweet potato pie, ice cream and Chocolate cake.
I remember Tang and too much pork.
I remember him saying he wanted to be with Grandma
And I remember the last time in the hospital
Touching his face, kissing his forehead
Knowing that he knew I loved him.
By Tamika Lamison Glendale, CA & Midlothian, VA
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