James Morris with Jeff & Andrew 1977
When we first set out on this adventure, one of our main ambitions was to find out what had happened to James – the kind, gentle man who our housekeeper in the 70s. But it was his son, Jefferson, who found us. His arrival on our doorstep one morning, just a few days after our arrival, blew our minds and hearts.
- Jefferson Morris with Jeff and Andrew 2010
We learned that James and had made it through the war, only to die from a simple, untreated infection a few years ago. Our question then shifted to more about our responsibility in helping Jefferson, who could not even afford to go to school.
The fact that he was actually named Jefferson after me, was something we didn’t expect.
Jefferson only had one photograph of his father – a Liberian ID card . (His name signed in my dad’s handwriting.) He was happy to see a couple more photos that we had in our collection.
Since returning we have been amazed to receive a few more photos of James, from other families who James worked for after us.
I’m looking forward to Jeff Jr. seeing these when we return to Liberia with the photo collection.
James in 1984 (Marc Le Rouzes, Acton, Ontario)
James in 1983 (Steff & Marty Trerice - Limoges, Ontario)
Watched this documentary last night. It was amazing. I am a native of Ethiopia living in Canada now, but my childhood somewhat mirrored yours in that I lived in another African paradise which was eventually torn apart by civil war. We had house keepers just like you did, and yes they were some of the most humble people. They do their work, and leave. They were like machines who work a lot and say very little and eat very little. They were amazing. Unlike you, I did not have too much connection with them.
I want to end my commentary by saying two things. It looked like the village that you visited in Liberia was in a bit of a disarray. They were sort of waiting for someone to come and rescue them, and they regarded you as that although you tried to clarify many times. That made me a bit sad for the people.
It also reminded me of my childhood which is now so far removed from me after more than two decades. Africa is an amazing land with so much to affer for so little. The warm nights, the land so untouched, the time that seems to move so slow, the people that are so easy to relate to and talk to, the innocence in most of them. It all came back. Thanks.