STORMS, STRENGTH, & THE BLACK LEGACY OF GALVESTON
- Culture Clash
- Sep 11
- 4 min read

When Janae Pulliam walks through Galveston’s east end, she sees more than pastel cottages and weekenders in flip–flops. She sees the streets her great‑great‑grandparents walked, the public schools where her family taught, and the cemetery where her elders are buried. Pulliam, 32, is part of a long line of Black educators, preachers, and community organizers on the island. Her great‑great aunt, Clara Emma Scull, taught at East District School and Central High School— the first high school for African‑American students in Texas. Clara served as the national secretary of the Sisters of the Mysterious Ten, a mutual‑aid society; in the aftermath of the 1900 hurricane, she appealed to that network for aid when relief for Black Galvestonians was scarce [1]. “Her house was destroyed and rebuilt, but she still organized to get money for other people,” Pulliam says with admiration.
That hurricane—the deadliest natural disaster in U.S. history—looms large in Pulliam’s telling of Galveston’s past. The storm, a Category‑4 hurricane, killed an estimated 6,000–12,000 people[2]. It didn’t just flatten buildings; it fractured a thriving Black community. Before the storm, Galveston’s Black residents were making impressive strides. Freedpeople found work as longshoremen, domestics, and shopkeepers. Central High School (founded in 1885) provided an education that drew families from across Texas [3]. Black men like state senator George T. Ruby mobilized voters, and educator J.R. Gibson ran Central High School and later the colored branch of the Rosenberg Library in 1905[4]. “We were making something of ourselves. We owned property. My family could see the beach from their house,” Pulliam says.
THE 1900 STORM AND ITS AFTERMATH
Natural disasters expose the fault lines of society. The 1900 storm devastated churches, schools, and homes in Black neighborhoods[5]. In the chaotic weeks after the hurricane, newspapers sensationalized stories of looting and mischaracterized Black survivors, paving the way for white vigilantes to execute residents who had been falsely accused[6]. Business leaders and politicians then forced Black men to clear debris and bury the dead at gunpoint[6]. White officials used the emergency to push through a commission‑style government that excluded Black voters[7]. The storm and the Jim Crow laws that followed stripped away much of the progress made during Reconstruction[5]. “You cannot strategically remove power from Black people on the island and then suddenly shove it back when there’s federal recognition or money," Pulliam says. “Although many Black Galvestonians left after subsequent storms, most notably Hurricane Ike, remaining Black families have worked to invest in this community to this day."
Amid the wreckage, Black Galvestonians mobilized their own relief. Educator J.R. Gibson worked with Clara Barton’s Red Cross and was entrusted with funds specifically to aid Black storm survivors [8]. Clara Scull appealed to the Sisters of the Mysterious Ten for help and helped rebuild her own home [1]. Such efforts allowed the community to rebuild churches, schools and social clubs, even as the new commission government rolled back political power. “We’ve always had to take care of ourselves,” Pulliam notes.
A FRAGILE PRESENT AND LOOKING FORWARD
While Galveston’s Juneteenth celebrations draw visitors from around the country, Pulliam sees a shrinking Black population on the island. After segregation officially ended, gentrification and rising housing costs pushed many Black residents to the mainland. Jobs in tourism and medicine dominate the local economy; creative and office work is scarce. “Our elders are still doing the work because the younger generation left,” Pulliam explains. She worries that proposals to build a large Juneteenth museum on the island could overburden an already hollowed‑out community. “I want a museum here, but the Black community needs more support after 100 years of being diminished,” she says.
Pulliam also points to the convoluted local government— separate entities manage the city, port, tourism, and parks boards—as a barrier to unified action. “Because our government system is unique, it's a double-edged sword. Any person can come to city council, be heard and speak up to something that is important to them. But often times, these ideas can overlap and be challenging to accomplish,”
she says. Competition for shrinking philanthropic dollars pits organizations against each other when collaboration is desperately needed. “There are many non-profits and not enough resources to go around. Though many of them collaborate together, they are often forced to be in positions where they have to compete for dollars.”
Yet she remains committed to Galveston. Pulliam sees her role as a bridge: “People of color are always bilingual in culture. We know our own culture and the dominant culture, and that’s a gift. Being able to connect people who feel like misfits is powerful.” Through Vision Galveston and local churches, she advocates for affordable housing, arts programs and youth engagement. She mentors students and refers others to the library for programming. She uses her heritage and communication skills to help different communities understand each other. Pulliam hopes that Galveston will acknowledge the full scope of its Black history and support the people who live it. Exhibits like “Weathering the Storm” highlight both the devastation of 1900 and the resilience that followed[9].
Pulliam believes that maintaining the island’s Black legacy means investing in education, housing, and jobs so that young families can stay. “Galveston has so much potential,” she says. “But potential only becomes reality when we listen to the people who’ve been here all along and give them the resources to thrive.”
[1] [4] [5] [8] [9] Weathering the Storm: Life for Black… | Rosenberg Library Museum
[2] 1900 Galveston hurricane - Wikipedia
[3] Central Middle School — Galveston Unscripted
[6] [7] Sept. 8, 1900: Galveston Hurricane - Zinn Education Project






















Comments