Hilton Head Island in South Carolina
is one of the top vacation destinations in the U.S.
But long before this,
it was a refuge for formerly enslaved people
brought here in bondage
from West and Central Africa.
Their traditions, customs and histories
blended to form a distinct group of people called
the Gullah Geechee.
This community —
formed mostly in isolation on islands
along the southern U.S. coast —
has been under relentless siege
by the threat of commercial development
and land acquisition.
- They built the bridge because they wanted progress,
but they didn't really take and invest in the culture
and what we had.
In Hilton Head,
folks we spoke with said the town is putting
the needs of tourists over the community.
This is what they don't show you.
They show you white, sandy beaches.
And as multimillion-dollar housing developments
continue to go up,
Gullah people often can’t afford to keep up
with rising property taxes.
Sold! $8,500, number 110.
And so, an island that used to be
more than 95% Black
is now close to 90% white.
If it continues to go the way it's going,
you know, they won't need us here.
We have to be here to tell our own story.
And their story is a warning
to mindful tourists everywhere:
Your dream vacation
could be enabling
someone else's erasure.
— Know the history of where you're going.
Know how the people got the land on the places that you're going to.
And don't support people who are
stealing other people's lands.
The story is with the Gullah culture...
you know, we buried our folks,
you know, close to the water.
And the significance behind that
was to give the souls passage
back to the motherland,
back to Africa,
back home.
Taiwan Scott is a native Gullah Geechee islander
on Hilton Head.
I walk up here and I look at the sign,
and this is the level of disrespect:
Braddock's Point Cemetery —
"African American"
spray-painted out.
You know, they can care less about
what they have done to us as people
and what they continue doing to us.
He took us to the burial grounds of his ancestors —
now located on the 18th hole of a golf course
in a gated community
that you need permission to enter.
As we walked out to the burial grounds,
which the Gullah community believes extends
all the way to the water,
golfers casually came through.
What most people don't know
is that Black people lived on the island
long before the ferry
and the bridge brought outsiders.
Gullah people purchased property
from state tax auctions
after plantation owners abandoned the island
during the Civil War.
On Hilton Head,
they formed the first self-governed town
of formerly enslaved people in the country.
It was called Mitchelville.
For Gullah people,
their ability to own land is their history.
Glory to God!
The Stewart family is still standing strong.
Yes, sir!
Despite rising property taxes
and the threat of new development,
a resilient group of families,
like the Stewarts,
have managed to hold on to their property —
and precious heritage —
for generations.
We like to eat our fishes with the head on.
And this is fresh fish — fresh-caught fish
and we fry it with the head on.
- With some mustard and hot sauce.
Alright, and our okra soup.
And it's always my favorite. Yes, sir!
And you know what we're missing?
What?
Oysters.
That was a major staple of this area here as well.
Did they mention that to you?
We only eat oysters in the months with an "R."
Uh-huh, that's right!
Gullah people embrace storytelling,
music, food and spirituality.
And even have their own unique language —
a kind of mixed African Creole English.
In the mid-1950s, when a bridge was built
to make it accessible to the mainland,
the island would transform
into a resort-based economy
that excluded the Gullah people.
They built the bridge
because they wanted progress,
but they didn't really take and invest in the culture
and, you know, and what we had.
That bridge, which has already been widened
over the years,
is now set for even further expansion
onto the Stewart family’s land.
In 1949, about 3,200 acres were owned by
the Gullah Geechee on Hilton Head.
Today, around 1,000 acres
remain in the hands of their families.
Meanwhile, traditional livelihoods
like farming and fishing
that sustained Gullah people for hundreds of years
have also suffered.
Ed Atkins is one of the few remaining
Gullah Geechee commercial fishermen.
Ed has watched his local industry erode over time
because of increasing regulation
and the inevitable forces of a system
that has all but forgotten the Gullah people.
The highest bidders are here today
to see if they can buy themselves a bit of this
prime real estate
at the county tax auction.
Gullah people have been losing their land over
just a few hundred dollars in unpaid taxes.
But there’s an informal tradition
where if they stand up and say “heirs’ property" —
- Heirs' property here.
— people won't bid on their land.
So we're actually going to go to a closed-door meeting right now.
The treasurer is going to answer any questions for folks who are involved
with heirs' property, and give them an opportunity
to find out what their rights are during the tax auction.
A lot of you here today may
want to stand up and say "heirs' property"
when the property becomes available, you know, comes up to bid.
And I want to make sure that you are all aware that this is a tradition here.
It's not a law, it's not a policy.
I cannot enforce that tradition.
But I do want that tradition to remain here because it's important for all of you.
This year, several bidders did not step aside
and abide by that tradition.
Priscilla Adjei and Georgetta Singleton
both came to the auction today
hoping to reclaim their land through the heirs’ property tradition,
but both were outbid.
Residents have exactly one year and a day
after the tax sale to redeem their property
by paying back taxes they owe with fees and interest.
Very bad.
Very bad. Sad. Sad.
That someone,
knowing that it's heirs' property,
would try to take it away.
It's just, "Please.
Can we have it?
Can my children enjoy the land, you know, without having to worry about it?
Pass it on.
Let it keep going like it was with these hundreds of years."
While the threats of land displacement
are impacting folks throughout the Gullah Geechee corridor,
back in Hilton Head, many folks believe
the problem is so pervasive
because it’s baked into the system.
We're in Shelter Cove, here,
Shelter Cove Harbor.
This is what they want people to see:
this side of Hilton Head.
Not the reality of how native islanders are living.
This.
What they're not seeing is the dirt roads,
the backed up [sewer] lines,
the lack of infrastructure,
the drainage systems, the ditches, you know,
all of that is the reality.
The town was developed
as a series of private communities
that provided services like water, sewage and trash
to the mostly white residents inside them.
And the rest of the island,
which was largely Black,
became dependent on the town for only minimal services.
Why is the Gullah community still living like this?
Why am I driving down the road
and there's no landscaped medians in the Gullah community?
These are the questions that
that someone needs to be held responsible and accountable for.
Someone needs to answer.
We went looking for answers
and this is who Hilton Head referred us to.
Sheryse DuBose is the liaison
between the town and the Gullah Geechee task force —
which residents say isn’t really meeting their needs
or resolving problems fast enough.
What is the town doing to gain
the Gullah community's trust?
We are...
trust in the Gullah community is very difficult.
If you're able to get in or be
trusted by them,
then you need to consider yourself lucky.
-Why do you think that is?
Because
Gullah people have lived in isolation so long —
historically.
They came to these islands, they established a culture.
They're very close-knit. They are family oriented.
And when you're not from any of the areas,
you're not connected with the family,
it's hard to connect with them.
And that takes a process.
That's not something you can barge in
and just do.
Not only do folks here say the town
has failed to live up to its responsibilities,
but it’s also the town itself that’s buying up property.
Hilton Head is the largest owner
of formerly Gullah-owned land
in the Stewart family’s neighborhood.
It's not a good feeling
to know that someone or people are
after what you have.
When they have so much
and you have so little,
but they still want to take yours.
And so, families like the Stewarts
find strength in the bonds of their community,
their faith in God
and their history of overcoming
seemingly insurmountable odds.
Oh tell me that you feel like prayin' when you come,
come out the wilderness.
When you come,
come out the wilderness.
Don't let the developers come in.
If you let one come in, more are coming.
And when they — even if you willingly sell your land,
some of your land, they're coming back to get the rest.
Know where you're going.
Know the history of where you're going.
Know how the people got the land on the places that you're going to.
If they didn't get it the right way,
don't go there.
Because you're supporting
something that's wrong and unfair.