By Terri Schlichenmeyer

Author: by Mark Whitaker, c.2025, Simon & Schuster, $30.99, 448 pages

Who will remember you in fifty years’ time?

A handful of friends – at least those who are still around – might recall you. Your offspring, grandkids, and greats, maybe people who stumble upon your tombstone. Think about it: who will remember you in 2075? And then read “The Afterlife of Malcolm X” by Mark Whitaker and learn about a legacy that still resonates a half-century later.

Betty Shabazz didn’t like to go to her husband’s speeches, but on that February night in 1965, he asked her to come with their daughters to the Audubon Ballroom in New York. Did Malcolm X sense that something bad would happen on that night? Surely. He was fully aware of the possibility, knowing that he’d been “a marked man” for months because of his very public break with the Nation of Islam.

As the news of his murder spread around New York and around the world, his followers and admirers reacted in many ways. His friend, journalist Peter Goldman, was “hardly shocked” because he also knew that Malcolm’s life was in danger, but the arrest of three men accused of the crime didn’t add up. It ultimately became Goldman’s “obsession.”

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Malcolm’s co-writer for The Autobiography of Malcolm X, Alex Haley, quietly finished the book he started with Malcolm, and a small upstart publishing house snatched it up. A diverse group of magazines got in line to run articles about Malcolm X’s life, finally sensing that White America “’needed his voice even more than Blacks did.’”

But though Malcolm X was gone, he continued to leave an impact.

He didn’t live long enough to see the official founding of the Black Panther Party, but he was influential on its beginning. He never knew of the first Kwanzaa, or the triumphs of a convert named Muhammad Ali.

Malcolm left his mark on music. He influenced at least three major athletes.

He was a “touchstone” for a president …

While it’s true that “The Afterlife of Malcolm X” is an eye-opening book, one that works as a great companion to the autobiography, it’s also a fact that it’s somewhat scattered. Is it a look at Malcolm’s life, his legacy, or is it a “murder mystery”?

Turns out, it’s all three, but the storylines are not smooth. There are twists and tangents and that may take some getting used-to. Just when you’re immersed, even absorbed in this book, to the point where you forget about your surroundings, author Mark Whitaker abruptly moves to a different part of the story. It may be jarring.

And yet, it’s a big part of this book, and it’s essential for readers to know the investigation’s outcome and what we know today. It doesn’t change Malcolm X’s legacy, but it adds another frame around it.

If you’ve read the autobiography, if you haven’t thought about Malcolm X in a while, or if you think you know all there is to know, then you owe it to yourself to find “The Afterlife of Malcolm X.”

For you, this is a book you won’t easily forget.

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By Terri Schlichenmeyer

Author: Bridgett M. Davis, c.2025, Harper, $29.99, 367 Pages

Take care.

Do it because you want to stay well, upright, and away from illness. Eat right, swallow your vitamins and hydrate, keep good habits and hygiene, and cross your fingers. Take care as much as you can because, as in the new book, “Love, Rita” by Bridgett M. Davis, your well-being is sometimes out of your hands.

It was a family story told often: when Davis was born, her sister, Rita, then four years old, stormed up to her crying newborn sibling and said, ‘Shut your … mouth!’

Rita, says Davis, didn’t want a little sister then. She already had two big sisters and a neighbor who was somewhat of a “sister,” and this baby was an irritation. As Davis grew, the feeling was mutual, although she always knew that Rita loved her.

Over the years, the sisters tried many times not to fight — on their own and at the urging of their mother — and though division was ever present, it eased when Rita went to college. Davis was still in high school then, and she admired her big sister.

She eagerly devoured frequent letters sent to her in the mail, signed, “Love, Rita.”

When Davis was in college herself, Rita was diagnosed with lupus, a disease of the immune system that often left her constantly tired and sore. Davis was a bit unfazed, but sympathetic to Rita’s suffering and also annoyed that the disease sometimes came between them. By that time, they needed one another more than ever.

First, they lost their father. Drugs then invaded the family and addiction stole two siblings. A sister and a young nephew were murdered in a domestic violence incident. Their mother was devastated; Rita’s lupus was an “added weight of her sorrow.”

After their mother died of colon cancer, Rita’s lupus took a turn for the worse.

“Did she even stand a chance?” Davis wrote in her journal.

“It just didn’t seem possible that she, someone so full of life, could die.”

Let’s start here: once you get past the prologue in “Love, Rita,” you may lose interest. Maybe.

Most of the stories that author Bridgett M. Davis shares are mildly interesting, nothing rare, mostly commonplace tales of growing up in the 1960s and ’70s with a sibling. There are a lot of these kinds of stories, and they tend to generally melt together. After about fifty pages of them, you might start to think about putting the book aside.

But don’t. Not quite yet.

In between those everyday tales, Davis occasionally writes about being an ailing Black woman in America, the incorrect assumptions made by doctors, the history of medical treatment for Black people (women in particular), attitudes, and mythologies. Those passages are now and then, interspersed, but worth scanning for.

This book is perhaps best for anyone with the patience for a slow-paced memoir, or anyone who loves a Black woman who’s ill or might be ill someday. If that’s you and you can read between the lines, then “Love, Rita” is a book to take in carefully.

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By Terri Schlichenmeyer

Author: Mary Frances Berry, c.2024, Beacon Press, $27.95

Your kids will have a better life than you had.

You’ll make sure of it, saving for their education, demanding excellence from them, requiring discipline, and offering support for their dreams and desires. Their success is your dream and, as parents did in the new book “Slavery after Slavery” by Mary Frances Berry, you’ll fight to see that it happens.

In the years after the end of the Civil War, some Southern former slave owners refused to accept that slavery was over, and the courts often sided with them. In particular, under habeas corpus, Black children were sometimes taken from their parents and placed into an “apprenticeship,” which was another word for “slavery” then. Berry estimates that more than two million 10-to-19-year-olds were trapped in this way for years.

Here, she shares the stories of many of them.

In late 1865, Nathan and Jenny Cox lost their five children to their former “master,” who also took seven other children by persuading a local magistrate to let him apprentice the kids. As time passed, some of the children took their former owner’s last name as their own which, in effect, erased their family’s history.

When six-year-old Mary Cannon was in danger of being apprenticed, a White woman came to her defense. Ultimately, the courts sided with Mary’s benefactor and the girl was returned to her parents to live on their former enslaver’s plantation.

Hepsey Saunders tried to leave her former owner’s plantation, but he “refused to let her take the children” that were born when she was enslaved. Though the theft of her children happened in 1865, the story lingered over a span of decades.

In most of the cases Berry cites, the families – with or without the return of their children – remained uneducated, unhealthy, and under discrimination. Imagine, she says, that these former slaves had had a chance to control their own lives. Imagine, she says, “if these Black people were permitted to pursue the American Dream.”

While it may seem that “Slavery after Slavery” is a historical narrative, that’s not all you’ll get if you tackle this skinny book.

When reading the stories inside, readers may struggle to keep track of what’s told. The accounts are a bit repetitious and each one packs a lot of names, legal decisions, court rulings, and places, some of which nearly require a law degree and all of which demand full attention. That can be overwhelming, unless you shut the door and avoid any distraction.

Berry uses these stories to point out lasting damage done to many Black families, which is essential info for readers to ponder. She goes further to argue that what happened to the two million children is reason enough for reparations, which makes a good argument, but it’s sometimes misplaced inside the flow of this book.

Still, readers will agree that the accounts Berry uncovered have been hidden too long, and shedding light on them is essential. “Slavery after Slavery” educates and could help enrichen conversations – and arguments – about the injustices and ongoing legacy of slavery.

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