I was born in Alabama in slavery time. I was sold from my mother after I
was five years old and never did see her again. Was sold to a family by
the name of Mr. Games. There were six of them in family and I was the
seventh. They were very nice to me until I was about 10 years of age.
I would attend to the little kids. They were all boys. Had to sleep on
straw beds and been cooking for myself ever since I was 8 years old.
When about ten they started putting hard work on me and had to pick
cotton and do the work around the house. Was a slave for about 15 years.
After I was freed I moved to Union County and been here ever since.
Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor
Person interviewed: Felix Street
822 Schiller Street, Little Rock, Arkansas
Age: 74
I was born in Dickson County, Tennessee, fifty miles north of Nashville,
in 1864. It was on December twenty-eighth. My father told me when he was
living how old I was. He told me all the way along, and I remember it.
"Nannie, Jeff, Hardy, John Mack, and Felix (that's me) are my father's
children by his first wife. Lena, Martha, Esther are his children by his
second wife. He had five children by my mother, and four of them lived
to be grown, and one died in infancy. My mother was his first wife. Her
name was Mary Street. Her name before she married--hold a minute, lemme
see--seems like it was Mary--Mary--Street.
"My father and my mother couldn't have lived on the same plantation
because she was a May and he was a Street. I don't know how they met.
"My father's master's name was Jick Street. He owned, to my knowing, my
father, Bill Street; Henry Street, and Ed Street. He might have owned
more but I heard my father say he owned those.
"My father said his white people weren't very wealthy. He and his
brother had to go and cut cordwood, both summer and winter. And they was
allowed so much work for a task. Their task was nine cords a week for
each man. That was equal to a cord and a half a day for each man each
day. My father would cut his wood like a man ought to cut it. But he
said my uncle wouldn't git at his task. He would drink whiskey all the
week. They'd get after him about bein' behind with his work, but he
would say, 'Never mind that; I won't be behind Monday morning.' On
Sunday morning at nine o'clock, he would get up and begin to cut on that
wood. And on Monday morning at nine o'clock, he would have nine cords
cut for his white folks and four or five for himself. It would all be
done before nine o'clock Monday morning.