The Delany Sisters
In 1991, Delany and her sister Sadie were interviewed by journalist Amy Hill Hearth, who wrote a feature story about them for The New York Times. A New York book publisher read Hearth's newspaper story and asked her to write a full-length book on the sisters. Hearth and the sisters worked closely for two years to create the book, Having our Say: The Delany Sisters' First 100 Years, which dealt with the trials and tribulations the sisters had faced during their century of life. The book was on The New York Times bestseller lists for 105 weeks. It spawned a Broadway play in 1995 and a television film in 1999. Both the play and film adaptations were produced by Judith R. James and Dr. Camille O. Cosby.
In 1994, the sisters and Hearth published The Delany Sisters' Book of Everyday Wisdom, a follow up to Having Our Say. After Bessie's death, Sadie Delany and Hearth created a third book, On my Own at 107; Reflections on Life Without Bessie.
Her siblings were:
- Lemuel Thackara Delany (1887–1956)
- Sarah Louise ("Sadie") Delany (1889–1999)
- Julia Emery Delany (1893–1974)
- Henry Delany, Jr. (1895–1991)
- Lucius Delany (1897–1969)
- William Manross Delany (1899–1955)
- Hubert Thomas Delany (1901–1990)
- Laura Edith Delany (1903–1993)
- Samuel Ray Delany (1906–1960)
Living Relative Families: Delany, Mickey and Stent-Graham Families
Read more about this topic: Annie Elizabeth Delany
Famous quotes containing the words delany and/or sisters:
“...you don’t have to be as good as white people, you have to be better or the best. When Negroes are average, they fail, unless they are very, very lucky. Now, if you’re average and white, honey, you can go far. Just look at Dan Quayle. If that boy was colored he’d be washing dishes somewhere.”
—Annie Elizabeth Delany (b. 1891)
“The incomprehensibleness of women is an old theory, but what is that to the curious wondering observation with which wives, mothers, and sisters watch the other unreasoning animal in those moments when he has snatched the reins out of their hands, and is not to be spoken to!... It is best to let him come to, and feel his own helplessness.”
—Margaret Oliphant (1828–1897)