Honoring the 643rd Port Company: Family, Faith, and Reunions That Made History

What made the reunions of the 643rd Port Company different from a typical family reunion? It was more than bloodlines or shared surnames—it was the bond between the men who had served together in uniform and the families who stood beside them.

The 643rd Port Company was an African American Army unit that faced danger abroad during World War II, while still living with the dangers of racism at home. Men like Ezell Howard Taft Jackson, born in Spartanburg, South Carolina, in 1910, knew about those dangers firsthand. Yet at age 33, with a wife and two daughters depending on him, he enlisted on December 17, 1943, at Fort Jackson, determined to protect both his country and his family from a foreign enemy.

Like Ezell, most of the men of the 643rd came from the Jim Crow South. They trained at Indiantown Gap, Pennsylvania, before shipping overseas. Their mission was vital: loading and unloading supplies, equipment, and ammunition that kept the Allied war effort alive. Though their names were seldom in the headlines, the 643rd’s work was indispensable.

A Book and a Bond

In 1947, William B. Black, a fellow soldier of the unit, published a rare company-level history, History, 643rd Port Company. In his letters to comrades, Black reflected: “We have come a long way together.” He admitted doubt that they would meet again after the war, but urged his brothers-in-arms to “fight for what is right and live up to your belief in God.”

This book, filled with photographs and memories, may have been the spark that led to something extraordinary: yearly reunions that carried the bond of the 643rd into peacetime and across generations.

More Than Reunions

Unlike traditional family reunions built around a shared surname or hometown, the 643rd gatherings were about shared service and sacrifice. There were times of pride, remembrance, joy, and teaching. Children and grandchildren learned that their fathers and grandfathers had served with honor and returned home under God’s protection.

Banquets, awards, prayers, songs, and laughter filled these weekends. Families became one big family—united not only by war, but by the love that sustained them after it.

Voices of the Next Generation

Two of Ezell Jackson’s granddaughters reflect on what these reunions meant.

-Denise
My memories of the 643rd Port Company reunions have softened around the edges with time, but the joy they brought is still vivid. I’m 65 years old as I write this, and if memory serves, we began attending in the late 1970s. More than 50 years have passed since we first packed our bags and dressed up for those special gatherings — I’m not even sure if we attended the very first one, but it was the first for us, and that made it unforgettable.

What made it so exciting was knowing we’d meet people who knew my grandfather, Ezell, as a young man. These weekends meant family, celebration, and pride. There were eight grandchildren between his two daughters, and while we got together often, this was different — there was a pool, a banquet, and brand-new outfits chosen just for the occasion!

Granddaddy Ezell was a proud but humble man, deeply devoted to his family. It gave me such joy to know that he would be so well represented — his wife, a respected nurse, his two daughters with their husbands and children, all gathered to honor his legacy. The highlight of each reunion was the banquet. It was our chance to dress up, sit together in a beautiful setting, and soak in the glow of a room full of radiant Black excellence — “black beauty in every shade of the rainbow,” as I like to say. Awards were given, including the one for “largest family in attendance,” which we often won in those early years! We prayed for those who couldn’t attend, celebrated accomplishments, and as time went by, we watched the memorial list grow longer.

There were speeches, recognitions, and even talent shows. I still remember my father’s rich voice filling the room and my cousin making everyone laugh with his falsetto and Michael Jackson moves. After dinner, it was time to dance — everyone joined in, from the “old folks” (who were probably younger than I am now!) to the kids who could really move. Those reunions were more than just family get-togethers — they were living examples of strength, dignity, and joy. Long before “Black excellence” became a hashtag, we were experiencing it firsthand through the men and women of the 643rd and their families.

-Tamara

I can still remember the first time I willingly wanted to attend my grandfather’s 643rd Port Company reunion — lovingly called “the 643rd” by everyone who knew it. I must have been in high school at August Martin back in the late 1980s. At first, I didn’t attend for the men who served — I went to see my grandparents, who I adored and always looked forward to spending time with. But over the years, something shifted. I began to see the significance of what these reunions really meant.

This was no ordinary family reunion. It was a gathering to honor African American men who had given their time, their labor, and in some cases, their lives, in service to family and country. It was a place where our grandparents proudly showed off their children and grandchildren — I was the seventh of those grandchildren, and I can still picture the excitement in their eyes when we all walked into the room.

The men of the 643rd were more than veterans — they were models of honor, heroism, and respect. And they were funny. I remember them joking with each other as they counted the new babies or spouses among the group, tallying up which family was the biggest. No one won anything, but there was pride in the competition. They also recognized the eldest soldier in attendance (a recognition my grandfather Ezell often claimed) and held moments of silence for those brothers who had passed since the last reunion.

Each reunion was a celebration — complete with games, photos, and plenty of laughter. First came the photo of the men who served, then their wives and children, and finally, the big group shot with everyone squeezed in. As the years went by, most of the reunions took place in Burlington, North Carolina. That was a favorite spot for the ladies because of the Burlington Coat Factory Outlets — a shopping trip was practically part of the tradition. Staying at the hotel gave us a chance to swim, relax, and really connect with family and friends.

Now, when I think back, I sigh and smile at the memories — at the men and their service, the laughter, and the bonds we built. We became more than friends; we became one big family of the 643rd. They are as much my family today as they were then. Of all the men I admired, my grandfather Ezell will always hold the highest place in my heart. He was the beacon who showed me what honor, love, and perseverance looked like — and he remains one of the best men I have ever known. Like the saying goes, “They just don’t make them like him anymore.”

✨ Lessons I Learned from the Heroes of the 643rd

• Honor God, family, and country.

• Seek to do good — always.

• Pause to honor a life lost.
  

• Teach and guide the generations to come.
  

• Cherish every moment, minute, and day — because tomorrow is not guaranteed.

Legacy

The 643rd Port Company’s reunions were not simply about remembering war—they were about celebrating life, love, and legacy. They taught children and grandchildren the meaning of service, the strength of community, and the importance of carrying memory forward.

Today, as those gatherings live only in our stories and photographs, they remind us that history is not only written in books but also lived in banquets, laughter, songs, and the warmth of family.

Long live the memory of the 643rd Port Company.