Documenting Jim Crow on Leather

by Fran Withrow 03.2022

Winfred Rembert was born in Georgia in 1946 and his mother quickly gave him to her aunt to raise. Rembert grew up during the Jim Crow era, got involved in a Civil Rights demonstration in 1967 and stole a car to get away from two white police officers. When caught, he was taken to jail and held for a year without charges being brought against him. Finally he overcame a guard and escaped, but was quickly caught, stripped naked and nearly lynched. He spent seven years on chain gangs as a result.

Rembert met his wife, Patsy, while in prison, and after his release, he struggled to find jobs to support his growing family. (He and Patsy raised eight children and never lost their deep love for one another.) He resorted to drug dealing and went to prison again. But Patsy had faith in him and reminded her husband that he could do anything. At the age of fifty-one and with his prison days behind him, he started painting memories of his life on pieces of leather.

The results are incredible.

Rembert, who died in 2021 at age 75, left behind a deeply moving collection of work documenting life during the Jim Crow era. He painted even when the subject matter made him physically sick. He depicted his near lynching, life on a chain gang, working in cotton fields, and being given away by his mother. His artwork is vibrant, and the themes are a poignant revelation of both the sorrows and the joys of his life.

Rembert told his story to Erin Kelly, a Tufts philosopher, and the resulting book, “Chasing Me to My Grave,” is just astonishing. The book is Rembert’s oral history but also includes a generous number of his paintings. Some of the paintings are shocking: lynchings and beatings by police. Others are touching: Rembert’s lifelong search for his birth mother’s love, scenes of camaraderie in town and with family. “Colored Only: State Law” signs are often seen in his art.

His work is a superb yet sobering testament to the relentless suffering and damage experienced by Black people during the Jim Crow era. The legacy of racism was so strong and pervasive Rembert said it would be “chasing him” to his grave. 

Rembert talks unabashedly about his prison days, struggles with drugs, and how trying to appease white people created a lifelong sense of vulnerability. He explains that he painted even though the trauma of dealing with a lifetime of racism would cause him to wake up screaming at night.

Reading “Chasing Me to My Grave” is like listening to an older neighbor sit and recall their life. The compelling artwork simply brings that life into stronger relief. 

The last painting in the book, “Looking for My Mother,” continues to reverberate with me. In it, Rembert, very small, is walking along the railroad tracks, ever searching for the woman who gave him away. There is no end to the tracks in sight, but he keeps on going, perpetually optimistic and never giving up hope. 

A fitting end for a book about a remarkable artist.