On the Right Track: A Family’s Fight to Protect Their Land and Legacy

By Dr. Jerome Dorn

Black History Month came to a close, one family’s battle for their ancestral land in rural Georgia serves as a powerful reminder that the fight for Black history isn’t confined to the past — it’s happening right now, in real-time. For the Smith family, whose roots run deep in the red clay soil that their ancestors once toiled as slaves, the fight is more than personal. It’s a matter of preserving history, dignity, and their rightful place on the land they’ve called home for generations.

At the heart of their struggle is a looming threat: a privately-owned railroad company seeking to claim a three-quarter-mile stretch of their property through eminent domain — a legal power that allows private railroads to seize land for projects deemed beneficial to the public. The proposed track wouldn’t lead to a bustling station or a commuter route. Instead, it would serve a rock quarry and a few industrial businesses, promising jobs and economic benefits — but none that the Smiths or their neighbors believe will come to their community.

“We’ve been labeled poor and Black for so long,” says 72-year-old Thomas Smith, the family’s patriarch, his voice steady but laced with frustration. “They think we won’t fight back. But I’m ready to fight. I’m not gonna let this happen to me.”

Thomas isn’t alone. His wife Diane stands by his side, as does his brother Marc and Marc’s wife Janet, who live next door. Together, they form a united front, defending land that’s been in their family since the Reconstruction era — a hard-won piece of freedom carved from generations of labor and sacrifice.

The Smiths’ story mirrors the broader historical context of Black land ownership in America — a journey marked by resilience against systemic efforts to strip African American families of property and wealth. Their land, passed down like an heirloom, represents more than just acreage; it’s a symbol of endurance and hope.

“We didn’t want to use that word,” Janet admits softly. “But yes — it’s racism. This community was targeted because it’s Black. They think we’re powerless. But we’re not.”

The railroad company, backed by promises of economic growth, insists the project will bring jobs and improve infrastructure. Yet the Smiths remain skeptical. “It’s not about jobs for us,” says Thomas. “It’s about survival. It’s about history. You can’t put a price on that.”

Eminent domain laws have a long, complicated history in the United States, often favoring large corporations over small landowners. Originally designed to support the rapid expansion of vital infrastructure — like railroads, highways, and power grids — the laws have evolved to include private projects that claim to serve a public good. But for families like the Smiths, that “public good” feels more like a private profit.

“My daddy always told me, ‘Protect what’s yours. They can take everything else from you, but they can’t take your roots,’” Thomas recalls. “Well, they’re trying now — but we’re not letting go.”

The Smiths’ battle may go as far as the Supreme Court, a reflection of how high the stakes are — not just for them, but for Black families across the country still fighting to hold onto their land and their heritage.

As the sun sets over their fields, casting long shadows over the pond that marks the edge of their property, Thomas looks out over the land his ancestors once worked and later fought to own. His voice is quiet but resolute:

“We are our ancestors’ wildest dreams. And I’m not about to let those dreams die.”

For the Smiths, Black history isn’t just a story from the past. It’s a living, breathing fight for the future — one they refuse to lose.