Eunice Irene Cloman was born on August 27, 1903, in the sharecropping town of Lake Village, Arkansas, to John Allen Cloman and Rebecca V. Bettie (Walker) Cloman. Both parents were originally from Mississippi and were schoolteachers. There, they joined many industrious African Americans, including those elected to office, who were working to improve the lives of residents. Lake Village had been home to some of the most extensive plantations in the South. After the Civil War, many plantation owners left. Others hired sharecroppers, and some turned to Italian immigrants as a labor force. By the turn of the twenty-first century, many railroads, such as the Memphis, Helena, and Louisiana, arrived in 1903, leading to explosive growth and diversity. When southern whites gained control of the state government through the Democratic Party, they quickly and systemically rolled back many of the legal gains. Black political power in Arkansas was suppressed for nine decades to come. Declining conditions likely led the Cloman family out of Lake Village.
The family’s decision was also inspired by personal tragedy. One year after her birth, Eunice’s father died in 1904. Perhaps as Rebecca considered the future that awaited her children, including limited education, she decided to relocate to Oklahoma. She had siblings who had already made the move. Rebecca and her five children (Beatrice, Percy, John, Enner, and Bernice, with Eunice being the second youngest) moved to Eufaula, Oklahoma, a town established in 1872 when the Missouri, Kansas, and Texas Railway established a railhead at the site. By 1910, the city had 1300 residents. It also had three banks, two newspapers, and numerous professionals and businesses.
Little is known about the Clomans’ life in the small town. Rebecca likely became a teacher once more. A 1952 interview with the Oklahoma Eagle suggests that she may have taught domestic science, as she had learned spinning and sewing from her grandmother and mother. The family made frequent trips to Greenwood by train, perhaps for shopping or to visit Rebecca’s brother, who lived nearby. Eunice recalled the jungle of the announcement, “All out for Tush hog town, Greenwood Street, the batting ground!” These words would ring true just a short while later.[1] Perhaps it was in Eufaula, Greenwood, or on the train that Rebecca met Dock (D.H.) Pearce (originally from Texas), whom she wed on June 14, 1914. The family expanded to include D.H.’s children Dago Pearce and Mark Morris.[2]
Credit: National Museum of African American History and Culture
In 1917, the family moved to the Greenwood District. This move was partly tied to Eufaula’s reduced schooling for Black students from nine months to four. In the 1920 census, the family was recorded as owning a home on Dunbar Street. In the 1920 census, D.H. shared that he was a concrete worker. Bettie was listed as a schoolteacher. It is unclear how long this employment lasted or at what institution she taught. Later accounts would suggest that she was engaged in domestic work, whether part-time or full-time. The family had a relatively comfortable life, and Eunice and her siblings often went to Greenwood Avenue to experience the Thursday and Saturday nightlife. While many parts of Greenwood were pristine, she recalled that some aspects of the district were wild and dangerous.
As a fourteen-year-old, Eunice began attending Booker T. Washington High School, where she became involved in the Y.W.C.A. student organization. She fondly remembered the school, especially the principal, E.W. Woods. Booker T. Washington opened in 1913 as the state’s first African American High School. It was highly regarded within the community, which in turn created pride among that year’s seniors. In the yearbook, the class held “We shall always remember with pleasure the happy and profitable days spent in Washington High School.”[3]
On the night of the attack on Greenwood, Eunice and her siblings, who were gathered in the yard, were planning to watch a film, likely at the Dreamland Theater. Her mother, hearing of the trouble at the courthouse, forbade it. While others were already running through the streets and hoping to flee to safety, Eunice’s family made the difficult decision to remain in place for the night as homes around them burned. The next day, after an attack that began around 7 am, the family evacuated. As the mob descended upon the community, Eunice and her family members were “running, running for our lives![4]
The National Guard marched the family and other detainees to the Convention Hall and, all the while, frequently fired shots at their feet to hasten their pace. Once they arrived at the hall, they were searched before they went in. Eunice remembered that her mother had her little bag with her papers and her pistol in it. They said: ‘What’s you got in there, Grandma?’ She said: “‘I’m not your Grandmother.’ They said, ‘Let me see what you got.’ She said, ‘I’ve got some important papers.’ The gun had belonged to my dead brother, and that’s why she had it with her. ” They grabbed her bag and looked in it; they took the gun and said, ‘Old dogs have new tricks, just like young ones.’ So we went to the Convention Hall and were received among the hundreds there.”[5]
The family remained there until 4:00 pm. Eunice shared that a white family for whom Rebecca worked came down to vouch for them so they could leave the detention center. But in the crowded hall, the family could not hear their names. They could finally leave when the guard allowed those with homes to leave. They walked back home. On June 2, the same white family helped them get identification cards so they could move around the area. Eunice kept hers for a long time.
Another memory that stayed with her was the stories told by her stepfather, who served as one of the gravediggers (some of whom were white) for those who were killed. She recalled that he shared that he peered into several caskets before lowering them to the ground. In doing so, he found that several of those marked as African Americans were white. The point of this story may have been to illustrate the resolve of African Americans who fought back against their assailants.
Eunice’s account of the family’s circumstances following the massacre differed across interviews. In her interview with Gates and a 2003 interview with Randy Krehbiel and the Tulsa World, Eunice shared that the family’s home was spared because of the kind efforts of white neighbors who extinguished fires set to their belongings. However, in her 1971 interview with Tulsa historian and writer Ruth Sigler Avery, Eunice suggests that their home was ultimately burned down despite these generous efforts. She recalled they stayed with her uncle, who lived a little outside of town (perhaps Alsuma). Later, they lived in a tent issued by the Red Cross and remained there three or four months until our place was rebuilt. Eunice suggested that while many Greenwood residents received loans to rebuild their businesses and homes, her mother had some money that aided them in getting supplies.[6]
Whether their home remained standing or was rebuilt, the family clearly experienced turmoil. In April 1929, Bettie filed for divorce, citing neglect. She changed her mind within a month and asked the judge to vacate the summons. It is unclear if the couple reconciled or parted ways.
The 1923 Tulsa Directory listed Eunice as a student. Though no record provides information about the institution, an undated photo suggests that she may have attended nursing school.
What is clear is that Eunice met Samuel Malone Jackson at church services and married him in 1923. She became his partner both in life and business. Samuel was born on August 4, 1894, in Centerville, Mississippi to Israel Nero Jackson and Emeline Williams Jackson (the latter of whom was a relative of the “King of Pop,” Michael Jackson). The Jacksons became known as one of the greatest power couples of Greenwood.
After earning a bachelor’s degree at Alcorn Agricultural and Mechanical College (today Alcorn State University), he intended to attend medical school, but did not have enough money. Instead, he attended Cincinnati to learn undertaking. Once he finished her, he moved to Kokomo, Indiana, and worked as a stocker at Frank Williams Dry Goods Company. After saving 2000 dollars (nearly $50,000 in 2024 value), he moved to Greenwood and worked briefly with another funeral home, J.H. Goodwin, who joined him as a business partner in 1918.
On the night of the massacre, Samuel had been at home/funeral home. When the mob arrived, they took him to McNulty Park—left behind in his burning home and business were four bodies. None of these individuals had a funeral, and only one corpse was recovered and buried. Samuel was required to care for Black patients gathered at McNulty Ball Park. He recalled working to aid those who had fainted by giving them water and towels. Although the funeral home was destroyed during the massacre, Samuel was hired to embalm by the Stanley & McCune Funeral Home since white undertakers refused to embalm black bodies. Jackson did his work in the maid’s quarters behind the home. He embalmed several people he did not know. But one, he certainly did—Dr. A.C. Jackson, the only doctor in Greenwood.
In the aftermath of the massacre, Samuel filed an unsuccessful lawsuit against the city and police department. The case languished for years before being dismissed in 1937. He sought to tell his story and employed Mary E. Jones Parrish, author of The Events of the Tulsa Disaster, wrote it. She advertised the product in magazines, and a few buyers would send in for one of the books. Though this venture did not generate the numbers he hoped, Samuel and Eunice continued to work to rebuild their lives and the community. They were contributors to the reconstruction of Vernon AME Church. Their names can be found on the famous stained-glass windows.
In August 1925, the Jacksons welcomed their son, Samuel Jackson, Jr. Tragedy struck, and three years later, he tragically passed away under unknown circumstances. Some resources state that he died after drowning in the Berry Park pool. However, in an interview with Eddie Faye Gates, Eunice says the doctors do not know what happened to cause her son’s death. After Samuel Jr.’s death, Eunice and Samuel separated, though census records still record them as living and working together.
Credit: National Museum of African American History and Culture, Gift of Princetta R. Newman
By 1930, Eunice was working as a secretary at Jackson Undertaking Co., a business that she and Samuel opened with another couple whose last name was also Jackson. In 1948, after a business dispute, Samuel and Eunice opened Jack’s Memory Chapel. They converted a portion of their home into a funeral chapel, which became a cornerstone of the community. In the 1950 census, Eunice said they worked more than 100 hours weekly as a mortician’s secretary.
Credit: National Museum of African American History and Culture, Gift of Princetta R. Newman
Despite this busy schedule, Eunice found time to work in the community through various social and civic organizations, including the Community Chest, now called the United Way of Central Oklahoma, an annual charity that was founded in 1923 to raise funds for social services. She also served in the Red Cross, which was founded in 1881, to provide disaster relief to families and to provide service to members of the US Armed Forces. She was a member of the Phyllis Wheatley Chapter of the Eastern Stars and the Magnolia Art Club. The latter, created in 1923, brought women together to regularly contribute to the Community Chest Fund, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People, the Dunbar Day Nursery, and local charities.
Eunice belonged to the prominent Oklahoma Federation of Colored Women’s Clubs, a state-wide unit with the National Association of Colored Women’s Clubs, which strengthened the Black community by providing social services and championing civil rights. In 1932, she chaired the Home Economics department at the 23rd annual meeting of the Federation. Some photos in the Princetta Newman Collection of the Jacksons in the Smithsonian Museum of African American History & Culture show evidence of Eunice’s regional and national level involvement.
As Eunice worked on behalf of the Black community, so did her mother. In 1935, Bettie moved to Chicago, where she lived for ten years. During this time, she worked for the Works Progress Administration, transcribing diets during the Great Depression. Her art was also displayed at the American Negro Exhibition in Chicago in 1940. Eunice absorbed some of this talent and was known through Greenwood for crafting and selling beautiful items, including beaded placemats. In 1943, Rebecca returned to Greenwood and quickly got back to work. In July 1950, she organized North Tulsa women in an auxiliary branch of the American Legion. The organization recognized women’s chapters but refused to invite Black women, even through separate chapters. Rebecca took her concerns to a Chicago Congressman and an attorney in Oklahoma. Before passing away in March 1969, Rebecca still pursued further education, taking correspondence courses in both Bible and music.
A few years later, in 1975, Samuel died. Eunice continued to expand the business after his death. In 1976, she and her business partners—stepson, Maurice, and James H. Black—celebrated the opening of a new building for their chapel. Having worked in the industry for decades, Eunice gladly noted changes in its efficiency. She was thrilled at the vast improvement in the funeral and materials process, which allowed the family to celebrate the lives of their loved ones better. Eunice also celebrated what she saw as better societal improvements due to the Civil Rights Movement. She held that Black people were no longer discriminated against from the cradle to the grave.
While serving the Greenwood community by providing dignity and care to family, Eunice also contributed to the historical record of Greenwood through several interviews, including two with Eddie Faye Gates in 1994 and again in 1999. While the interviews captured her perseverance and spirit, they also captured her sadness at the declining conditions of her beloved community. She reflected not only on the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre but also on the damaging impacts of Urban renewal and the highway that arrived in the 1960s and 1970s. Succinctly, Eunice declared these ventures “took away our Greenwood.”[i] She passed away in June 2004.
[1] Eddie Faye Gates, “Eunice Cloman Jackson,” They Came Searching: How Blacks Sought the Promised Land in Tulsa (Austin, Texas: Eakin Press, 1997), 117 (115-118).
[2] The Pearce surname is sometimes spelled “Pierce,” including in interviews with Eunice.
[3] 1921 Booker T. Washington High School Yearbook (Tulsa, Oklahoma: 1921), Tulsa City-County Library, https://digitalcollections.tulsalibrary.org/digital/collection/p16063coll5/id/349/rec/1.
[4] Gates, They Came Searching, 117.
[5] In the printed interview, Eunice states that the soldier referred to her mother as “Auntie,” and reports the conversation as much shorter. See Gates, They Came Searching, 117.
[6] S.M. Jackson and Eunice Cloman Interview, Box 3, Folder: S.M. Jackson and Eunice Cloman, Series 1: Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921, Ruth Sigler Avery Collection, Oklahoma State University, Tulsa Library.
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Citation: “Eunice Cloman Jackson,” in Brandy Thomas Wells, Ed. Women of Black Wall Street, 2025, https://blackwallstreetwomen.com/eunice-cloman-jackson/ (Access date).
Student Authors: Corbin Chandler, Cade Dean, Nicki Hammack, Madison Nalodka, Brock Parham, Dylan Parks, Brett Smith, and Chainie Williams.
Student Editor: Brett Smith, WBWS Intern, Fall 2024.
Sources:
Eddie Faye Gates, “Eunice Cloman Jackson,” They Came Searching: How Blacks Sought the Promised Land in Tulsa (Austin, Texas: Eakin Press, 1997), 115 (115-118).
State of Arkansas Birth Certificate, 1942, accessed via Ancestry.com.
1900 Census [Lake Village, Arkansas], accessed via Ancestry.com
Jeannie M. Whayne, Shadows over Sunnyside: An Arkansas Plantation in Transition, 1830-1945 (University of Arkansas Press, 1993).
Thomas A. DeBlack, A Garden in the Wilderness: The Johnsons and the Making of Lakeport Plantation, 1831–1876. (PhD Diss., University of Arkansas at Fayetteville, 1995).
“Eufaula.” The Encyclopedia of Oklahoma History and Culture. https://www.okhistory.org/publications/enc/entry?entry=EU001.
1920 Census [Tulsa, Oklahoma], accessed via Ancestry.com.
“Divorces Asked,” Tulsa Tribune, April 10, 1929.
S.M. Jackson and Eunice Cloman Interview, Box 3, Folder: S.M. Jackson, and Eunice Cloman, Series 1: Tulsa Race Massacre of 1921, Ruth Sigler Avery Collection, Oklahoma State University, Tulsa Library.
Randy Krehbiel, “Greenwood: The street that had it all,” Tulsa World, February 3, 2023.
Booker T. Washington High School (Tulsa, Oklahoma: 1921), Tulsa City-County Library, 25.
Gary Lee, “The Rich Legacy of Tulsa’s Black Entrepreneurship,” Oklahoma Eagle (Tulsa, Oklahoma), September 9, 2024.
1930 Census [Tulsa, Oklahoma], accessed via Ancestry.com
1923 Tulsa City Directory, accessed via Ancestry.com.
1927 Tulsa City Directory, accessed via Ancestry.com.
1929 Tulsa City Directory, accessed via Ancestry.com.
1932 Tulsa City Directory, accessed via Ancestry.com
“New Cases,” Tulsa Daily Legal News, April 9, 1929. “Vital Statistics,” Tulsa World, April 10, 1929.
“New Filings,” Tulsa Daily Legal News, May 24, 1929.
Jeanne B. Goodwin, “Greenwood…. The Best of the Story,” Oklahoma Eagle (Tulsa, Oklahoma), July 28, 1988.
“Samuel Joseph ‘Sam’ Jackson,” Find A Grave Database and Images.
Victor Luckerson, Built from the Fire: The Epic Story of Tulsa’s Greenwood District, America’s Black Wall Street (New York: Random House, 2024).