A Legacy Written in Stone, Steel, and Spirit
For more than two centuries, as America rose brick by brick, one Black family made sure we were never erased from the skyline. The story of McKissack & McKissack is not simply a business chronicle—it is a living testament to Black ingenuity, economic self-determination, and generational excellence passed hand to hand, mind to mind.
From the skilled hands of an enslaved African master builder to the boardrooms and construction sites led by Black women shaping America’s most visible landmarks, the McKissack legacy reminds us of a fundamental truth: when we were denied access to power, we learned how to build it ourselves.
This is not history frozen in time.
This is inheritance.



From Ashanti Shores to Tennessee Clay
The McKissack story begins with Moses McKissack I (1790–1865), a man of the Ashanti people of West Africa, forcibly brought to American shores. Though enslaved, Moses carried with him something no chain could hold—ancestral knowledge of architecture, geometry, and material mastery rooted in African civilization.
Sold to a builder in North Carolina, Moses learned European brickmaking and masonry techniques, transforming survival labor into professional excellence. By 1834, the family had moved to Maury County, Tennessee, where Moses established a brickyard in Spring Hill. There, he laid foundations for homes, institutions, and something far greater: a family creed.
Among the McKissacks, skill was not just trade—it was freedom. Each brick carried purpose. Each lesson passed to the next generation became a quiet act of resistance.
Building Past the Barriers
By the early 20th century, the McKissacks were ready to move from brick yards to drafting tables. Moses McKissack III and his brother Calvin Lunsford McKissack entered a profession that had no intention of welcoming Black men. White universities barred their entry. Licensing systems were designed to exclude.
Their response was brilliance.
Denied traditional pathways, the brothers enrolled in the International Correspondence School of Scranton, Pennsylvania, earning architectural degrees through distance learning—literally building their future through the mail. In 1905, Moses III opened his architectural practice in Nashville.
When Tennessee introduced professional licensing laws in 1921, the state board attempted to block them. The brothers responded not with protest, but proof: years of completed projects, academic credentials, and undeniable competence. In 1922, they became the first licensed Black architects in Tennessee.
They didn’t just break a ceiling.
They forced the door open.



Architects of Black Institutions
The McKissack firm understood something deeply strategic: for Black communities to thrive, we needed institutions that reflected dignity, permanence, and power. Their work became the physical backbone of Black civic life in the Jim Crow South.
They served as primary architects for the National Baptist Convention, the largest Black religious organization in the world. Their buildings were not merely functional—they were declarations.
The Morris Memorial Building in Nashville, completed in 1924, stood as a neoclassical stronghold of Black publishing and commerce. Clad in white terra cotta, it housed the National Baptist Publishing Board—a fortress of Black intellectual property at a time when such visibility was considered defiance.
These weren’t just buildings.
They were statements that said: We are here, and we are built to last.
The $5.7 Million Test
In 1942, the McKissacks faced a defining moment. The U.S. government awarded them a $5.7 million contract—the largest federal project ever given to a Black firm—to construct the Tuskegee Army Airfield in Alabama.
The stakes were enormous. Failure would not be personal; it would be weaponized against every Black firm in America. White contractors watched closely, expecting collapse.
Instead, the McKissacks delivered.
They transformed Alabama swampland into a fully operational military airfield on schedule, building the runways where the Tuskegee Airmen would train and make history. With that project, the McKissacks dismantled one of the most persistent lies of the era: that Black firms were incapable of managing large-scale industrial work.
They didn’t just build an airfield.
They rewrote expectations.

When Black Women Took the Helm
In 1983, the firm faced another moment of reckoning when William DeBerry McKissack suffered a debilitating stroke. Industry insiders assumed the company would fade away.
Instead, Leatrice Buchanan McKissack stepped forward.
With a background in psychology and education—not architecture—she became the firm’s guardian and strategist. Under her leadership, McKissack & McKissack modernized, expanded, and took on projects of profound cultural weight, including construction management for the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis at the historic Lorraine Motel.
It was poetic justice: a family that had built through centuries of oppression now helping preserve the site that marked a turning point in Black liberation. Leatrice proved that the McKissack legacy wasn’t just technical—it was visionary.
A Modern Empire, Multiplied
Today, the legacy is carried forward by fifth-generation twin sisters Cheryl McKissack Daniel and Deryl McKissack—leaders forged from childhood on construction sites and drafting tables.
Cheryl McKissack Daniel leads McKissack & McKissack of New York, overseeing more than $50 billion in construction value in the past decade alone. From JFK Airport’s Terminal One redevelopment to major MTA infrastructure upgrades, her influence is embedded in New York’s future. Equally important, she has made MWBE participation a non-negotiable priority.
Deryl McKissack, who founded her Washington, D.C. firm with just $1,000, stands behind two of the most powerful monuments on the National Mall: the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial and the National Museum of African American History and Culture. For her, building the NMAAHC was not a job—it was destiny fulfilled.
Harlem: Building With Cultural Responsibility
In Harlem, McKissack’s work reflects something deeper than development—it reflects stewardship.
At Harlem Hospital Center, the firm managed the careful preservation and relocation of historic WPA murals by Charles Alston and Vertis Hayes, ensuring that depictions of Black medical history and the African Diaspora remained visible to the community. Today, those murals are protected behind glass, greeting everyone who walks Lenox Avenue.
At the Studio Museum in Harlem, McKissack ensured record-breaking MWBE participation, proving that building Black cultural institutions must also build Black economic power.
This is HarlemAmerica values made concrete.

Studio Museum in Harlem
Engineering Equity Forward
Through AEC Unites, Deryl McKissack champions a bold equity framework that confronts systemic racism in architecture and construction. Its principles are simple, direct, and unapologetic: name exclusion, close wealth gaps, elevate Black firms as leaders, recruit from our communities, and reinvest locally.
It is not charity.
It is correction.
A Blueprint That Endures
The McKissack legacy reminds us that Black history is not confined to museums—it is embedded in airports, hospitals, churches, and neighborhoods. Their work stands as proof that when excellence meets intention, what we build can outlive oppression.
From Harlem to Washington to New York and beyond, the McKissacks have shown us how to turn skill into sovereignty and vision into permanence.
This is our blueprint.
Solid. Enduring. Forever rising.
A Legacy Written in Stone, Steel, and Spirit
For more than two centuries, as America rose brick by brick, one Black family made sure we were never erased from the skyline. The story of McKissack & McKissack is not simply a business chronicle—it is a living testament to Black ingenuity, economic self-determination, and generational excellence passed hand to hand, mind to mind.
From the skilled hands of an enslaved African master builder to the boardrooms and construction sites led by Black women shaping America’s most visible landmarks, the McKissack legacy reminds us of a fundamental truth: when we were denied access to power, we learned how to build it ourselves.
This is not history frozen in time.
This is inheritance.



From Ashanti Shores to Tennessee Clay
The McKissack story begins with Moses McKissack I (1790–1865), a man of the Ashanti people of West Africa, forcibly brought to American shores. Though enslaved, Moses carried with him something no chain could hold—ancestral knowledge of architecture, geometry, and material mastery rooted in African civilization.
Sold to a builder in North Carolina, Moses learned European brickmaking and masonry techniques, transforming survival labor into professional excellence. By 1834, the family had moved to Maury County, Tennessee, where Moses established a brickyard in Spring Hill. There, he laid foundations for homes, institutions, and something far greater: a family creed.
Among the McKissacks, skill was not just trade—it was freedom. Each brick carried purpose. Each lesson passed to the next generation became a quiet act of resistance.
Building Past the Barriers
By the early 20th century, the McKissacks were ready to move from brick yards to drafting tables. Moses McKissack III and his brother Calvin Lunsford McKissack entered a profession that had no intention of welcoming Black men. White universities barred their entry. Licensing systems were designed to exclude.
Their response was brilliance.
Denied traditional pathways, the brothers enrolled in the International Correspondence School of Scranton, Pennsylvania, earning architectural degrees through distance learning—literally building their future through the mail. In 1905, Moses III opened his architectural practice in Nashville.
When Tennessee introduced professional licensing laws in 1921, the state board attempted to block them. The brothers responded not with protest, but proof: years of completed projects, academic credentials, and undeniable competence. In 1922, they became the first licensed Black architects in Tennessee.
They didn’t just break a ceiling.
They forced the door open.



Architects of Black Institutions
The McKissack firm understood something deeply strategic: for Black communities to thrive, we needed institutions that reflected dignity, permanence, and power. Their work became the physical backbone of Black civic life in the Jim Crow South.
They served as primary architects for the National Baptist Convention, the largest Black religious organization in the world. Their buildings were not merely functional—they were declarations.
The Morris Memorial Building in Nashville, completed in 1924, stood as a neoclassical stronghold of Black publishing and commerce. Clad in white terra cotta, it housed the National Baptist Publishing Board—a fortress of Black intellectual property at a time when such visibility was considered defiance.
These weren’t just buildings.
They were statements that said: We are here, and we are built to last.
The $5.7 Million Test
In 1942, the McKissacks faced a defining moment. The U.S. government awarded them a $5.7 million contract—the largest federal project ever given to a Black firm—to construct the Tuskegee Army Airfield in Alabama.
The stakes were enormous. Failure would not be personal; it would be weaponized against every Black firm in America. White contractors watched closely, expecting collapse.
Instead, the McKissacks delivered.
They transformed Alabama swampland into a fully operational military airfield on schedule, building the runways where the Tuskegee Airmen would train and make history. With that project, the McKissacks dismantled one of the most persistent lies of the era: that Black firms were incapable of managing large-scale industrial work.
They didn’t just build an airfield.
They rewrote expectations.
Harlem: Building With Cultural Responsibility
In Harlem, McKissack’s work reflects something deeper than development—it reflects stewardship.
At Harlem Hospital Center, the firm managed the careful preservation and relocation of historic WPA murals by Charles Alston and Vertis Hayes, ensuring that depictions of Black medical history and the African Diaspora remained visible to the community. Today, those murals are protected behind glass, greeting everyone who walks Lenox Avenue.
At the Studio Museum in Harlem, McKissack ensured record-breaking MWBE participation, proving that building Black cultural institutions must also build Black economic power.
This is HarlemAmerica values made concrete.

Studio Museum in Harlem
Engineering Equity Forward
Through AEC Unites, Deryl McKissack champions a bold equity framework that confronts systemic racism in architecture and construction. Its principles are simple, direct, and unapologetic: name exclusion, close wealth gaps, elevate Black firms as leaders, recruit from our communities, and reinvest locally.
It is not charity.
It is correction.
A Blueprint That Endures
The McKissack legacy reminds us that Black history is not confined to museums—it is embedded in airports, hospitals, churches, and neighborhoods. Their work stands as proof that when excellence meets intention, what we build can outlive oppression.
From Harlem to Washington to New York and beyond, the McKissacks have shown us how to turn skill into sovereignty and vision into permanence.
This is our blueprint.
Solid. Enduring. Forever rising.










