I looked at my father, Colonel Richard Whittemore, owner of 5,000 acres and 200 slaves, certain that I had lost my mind.
I whispered, “Joshua?” He said, “Yes, I know exactly what I’m doing.” What I didn’t know, and what no one could have expected, is that this desperate solution would turn into the greatest love story of my life.
Let me tell you about Josiah first. They called him “the monster.” He was eight feet tall and weighed 300 pounds of hard muscle, sculpted by years of hard work in the blacksmith shop.
His hands could bend iron bars, and his face inspired terror in the hearts of all who entered the room. People feared him, both slaves and free people.
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