When Adisa Foluke died

Twenty Years Ago
July 29, 1997

By Jolivette Anderson-Douoning

On that day, he was sitting in front of me on a charter bus. We were in route to Washington DC to meet with the Congressional Black Caucus. We'd left South Carolina, Oyitunji African Village, the evening before. In retrospect, there were signs.

We were on Interstate 95. I remember Stevie Wonder playing on a boom box, "Hey, Love..."  before I went to sleep.

I remember, waking at some point in the middle of night, leaning forward to tell Adisa Foluke , "I love you Brother". He was staring straight ahead as if he was watching the road, watching our driver, Mr Oliver, or just watching and protecting us.

I remember, waking once again, the sun pierced my eyelids, it was golden, warm, rays on my skin.

Then. I remember. Bumpiness. Rattling sound. Feeling of floating in the air, like in an airplane. But. We were in a bus.  Then. We CRASHED. DROPPED. SLID. into the Nottaway River in Virgina.

My watch stopped at 7:07 am July 29.

That was the moment Adisa died.

Pathways to Freedom Underground Railroad Tour 1997, Rosa and Raymond Parks Institute for Self-Development.