*Interview with George Bollinger,*
*Cape Girardeau, Missouri.*
_He Saw Many "Hants"_
George Bollinger is a typical, old-time Negro who lives in Cape
Girardeau. In his younger days he was big and powerful and even now at
the age of 84 he is above the average in build. He owns his home and his
is the last colored family to remain in this neighborhood which is
rapidly being built up with modern homes.
George has little education, unlike his wife who is much younger and
uses fairly good English. He sits on his porch and thoroughly enjoys
talking of the long ago with those who appreciate listening to his
story.
"Benton Hill?" he said. "Sure, it's hanted. I seen things and heard
things there lots of times. Good gosh amighty! One night we was driving
through dere and we heard something dat sound like a woman just a
screaming. Old man Ousbery was with me and he wanted to stop and see
what it was but I says, 'No you don't. Drive on. You don't know what dat
might be.' Another time we's driving by there, and dey was a great big
mule just standing cross de road and he just wouldn't move. I says,
'Just drive on and he'll get out of de way.' But he didn't. When we gets
to him, he just parts right in de middle and half stands on one side and
half on de other. We didn't look 'round. No, mo'--we just made dat hoss
go.
"I don't know what makes dem hants round there--lessen it's de gold
what's buried dere. And you know de spirits always come back fer gold.
Sure dey's money buried dere. Didn't you all know dat? Lots of folks is
dug there, but dey ain't never found it. Why dey is holes 'round dere
where men's been digging for dat gold.
"Dey was one man had a-what you call it? A 'vinin' rod. That points to
where things is hid. But he didn't find it neither. And then out by de
Maberry place, close to Gordonville--who-e-e--I's sure enough seen
things out dere lots of times. You know where dat clump of peach trees
is at de corner of de fence? Dey always seems to come from right there.
I worked out there for a long time. We'd get out to work early,
sometimes 'twasn't good and day.
"One morning I's coming along there, on a hoss I was, and I met a
hossman. He looks funny to me and when he asks me something I says, 'Git
on. I ain't talking to you!' But he says, 'Wait, I wants to talk to
you!' As I says, he looks funny to me and I pulls out my pistol. I
always carries my gun, and I think if he makes a pass at me I'll git
him. But I goes on without looking back. Now just dat one man is all I
seen, but when I gets past, dey is lots of talking like dey is six or
eight men. But I didn't look back.
"One morning I'd got out there real early, too early to go into de field
and I thinks I'll rest awhile under de tree. I had my eyes shut for a
while when something bothered me. When I opened up my eyes there was a
lot a strange hosses standing 'round me in a ring. I jumped up and
hollered, 'git out'. Dey turned and ran and dey run right off a steep
bank on the other side of de field."
"Did you see them down there?" he was asked.
"Cose I never, nobody else never neither, dey wasn't dere, dat's why,"
he answered.
"Lord, when I thinks of de way we used to work. Out in de field before
day and work till plumb dark. My boss would say, 'George take two men,
or maybe three men, and git dat field plowed, or dat woods patch
cleared'. And he knowed if he tell me, de work would be done.
"And I worked at anything. One time I steamboated for eight years. But
what do dese young folks know 'bout work? Nuthin'! Look at dat grandson
of mine, just crossed de porch--why he's fourteen and he can't even use
a ax. Too young? Go on with you!
"I tells you dese young folks just don't know how to work. Dey has too
much studying up here (pointing to his head and making motions like
wheels going round.) When I's his age I's working at anything I could
find. I worked on a farm and on a steamboat, I carried cross ties--just
anything where I could earn money. And I saved money, too. When we
bought dis house I had $2,400 saved up. And men was stronger in dem days
and had better health.
"Dese young folks want too easy living. And dey ain't brung up to show
respect to old folks like we is. If I goes down de walk and a bunch
young folks is coming along, I knows I's got to step out of de
way--'cause dey won't give any. And if some little ones on roller skates
is coming down de sidewalk--you better git off or dey'll run right into
you.
"I was tellin' you 'bout Miss Katie coming to see me, wasn't I? Well
just last week her boy come to see me. He's maybe 25 or 30 year old.
Somebody told him 'bout me and he come here and he sit right dar on de
porch fer a hour and talk with me. He was a fine young man, he was."
*Interview with George Bollinger*
*[TR: by Mollie E. Smith].*
NOTE: George Bollinger and his family live in a nice one-and-one-half
story house, which they own. They have always been industrious people
and their home is nicely kept. George is 84 years old and seems to enjoy
life. He was glad to talk over "old times", especially after he
recognized me, (The "Me" being Mollie E. Smith) and recalled that he
used to work in my grandfather's Tan Yard. George Bollinger is living at
320 N. Spriggs St., Cape Girardeau, Missouri.
"We lived out on de edge o' Bollinger County. 'Ole Massa's' name was
'Dal Bollinger'. 'Ole Missus,' we always called, "Aunt Polly". Den day
wuz young 'Massa Dave,' and young 'Missie Katie'.
"My Pappy's name wuz 'Bollinger' 'en my mammy wuz 'Temple'. My pappy wuz
a smart man. He cud read and write. I don't know whar he learned it. An'
he had de power, my daddy did. He cud break a 'Hoodoo' spell, an' he cud
tell things dat happened wen he diden see it--If one a' de folks went to
town he cud tell 'em jes everything dey don dere.
"Dey wuz 'bout 20, mebby 25, slaves on de place, 'en we all lived in a
big, old log house. My mammy wus a good cook 'en she cud spin en weave.
She made all de clothes we wore. Us chilluns never wore no pants--jes
sumpin like a long shirt made o' homespun. We didden know nuthin' 'bout
learnin'. Dey wuz a church, but we didden go much, 'en we never had no
kind 'er gatherin's. Dey wouldn' let de cullered folks congregate--no,
shu, why, even de man over at de store wouldn't let mo' dan two cullud
folks come in at a time.
"I didden even know what money wuz. Massa' had a chest 'bout three feet
long--up in a little attic. It wuz jes' full o' gold 'en silver
money--no 'greenbacks'. It wuz covered over wif rugs, 'en I never know'd
what wuz in dere--we used to go up der to play sumtimes on rainy days,
an Aunt Polly'd holler, 'Ef you don' cum down fum dere de ghosts 'ul git
ye'. I never seed inside de chest 'till dey bury it--dat wuz in
war-time. Dey put a big hand spike under it 'en de men carry it down by
de sugar grove de udder side o' de graveyard. I cud go, right now 'en
show you de very spot dey bury it. De bes' times we-ens had wuz going
fishing, an' man! did we like to fish. Allus we had Saturday atternoon
off, 'lessen it wer wheat harvest 'er sumthin' special like. 'En
Sunday's we allus fished all day long.
"One time day wuz two hundred sojers cum to our place--dey wuz
Southerners, an' dey wuz nearly starved. Massa tole 'em _dey_ cud kill
dat big steer. Dey shoots him 'en 'fore he drops dey wuz on him;
skinnin' him. By dat time udders had a fire built 'en de men pull out
dey knives 'en dey cut off hunks; dey puts 'em on a stick 'en hol's 'em
ovar de fire a few minutes--didden give 'em time to cook thru fore dey
et it. Dat ole steer didden last long. 'En 'Massa' had ten cribs 'er
corn. He tole' em to ---- dey selves. 'Bout dat time a dispatch came,
dat de "Yankees" wuz commin'. Dey went up to meet 'em, 'an dey had a
battle over at Patton. Long 'bout midnight sum of 'em came back,
wounded. Aunt Polly helped 'em, but she begged 'em not to stay dere, or
de "Yankees" cum in, burn de house down.
"Aunt Polly 'en mammy allus know'd whut to do when a body wuz ailin'.
Dey allus had a bag o' yarbs hangin' under de porch. When de sojers wuz
commin' we allus hid de hosses. Massa' had lots ob 'em, 'en Missie ----
had de pudttiest black mare. It's name wuz 'Kate'. Des one time de
hosses musta skered 'er sumpin--de sojers foun' 'em, an' here dey com
ridin' up past de house wid every on of our hosses.
"A sojer wuz ridin' 'Black Kate'. Wen 'Missie Katie' see dat--she
holler, and she ran an' grab hol' de bridles, on han' on each side 'er
his haid. De sojer put spurs to de mare, but she hung on jes a cryin'. I
kin jes see her now; de mare a rarin' and 'Missie ---- hangin on
a-cryin'. She hung on till dey reach de creek. Den she lose her grip,
but she sho' did cry.
"One night we had a big corn shuckin'. We shucked 'till way late in de
nite: den sum de white men stay all nite. Day wuz a pile 'er shucks
higher'en dat door. Nex' mornin' a bunch o' "Yankees" cum by. As dey wuz
comin' thru' de yard, dey see one man runnin' to hide behin' de barn.
Dey say; "Halt", but de man keep runnin'; so dey fire--de bullet thru'
his had and he stop. Den dey say: "If day's one man, dey's more a
hiddin.' Dey looks roun', den de haid man say: 'Men ride thru' dat pile
'er shucks 'en ---- in dey hair. Den de sojers asks 'em things 'en iff'n
de answers didden seem good; dey hit 'em over de haid wid dere guns. I
wuz standin' right here, an' I saw 'Ole Massa' git hit on de haid once,
den anudder time: an' he fell. I sho' thot he wuz daid, but warn't. Aunt
Polly fix him up atter de sojers wuz gone, but de bushwackers got him.
"Dey must a heerd about de chest o' money he had buried. Dey try to make
him tell; but he wouldn't. Den dey put 'er rope 'roun' his neck an'
pulls him up. Den dey lets him down: but he wouldn' tell no how--so dey
finished him.
"Yes, de' nigger buyers ust'a cum roun' our place. It was sight to see!
Dere 'ud be mebbe five 'or six men a'ridin' fine hosses an a-drivin' a
whole flock 'er slaves along de rode; jes' like stock, all chained
togedder.
"On time dere wuz Pete Smith, 'Ole Tom Johnson, an' Fred an' Sam
Daughery; all niggar buyers--dey wuz at our place an' dey wud all sit
dar, an' us slaves had to stan' up in front o' em, an' dey'd bid on us.
I 'members I wuz full chested an' dey laid a stick across my chest to
see how straight I cud stan'. 'Ole Pete' Smith wuz gonna' buy me; but my
young folks begged 'Massa' not to sell me, 'cause we'd all played
togedder--so he didden' sell me.
"But dey wuz gonna buy my 'pappy' an take him way off, but, my 'pappy'
was smart. He had made baskets at night an' sold 'em when he cud, 'en
saved de money--dat night he goes to de fireplace an' lifts up a stone;
an' out o' de hole he pulls out a bag a' money an' he runs away. I ain't
never seed my 'pappy' since. Las' I hurd a' him he was in 'Indiana.'
When Mista Lincoln made his Proclamation (dat wuz 'fore de war wuz
over), young Massa' Dave set us free. He gave us a yoke of oxen an' a
wagon full o' everythin' we needed. Der wuz a feather bed 'en quilts an'
meat an' purvisions--an' he sent us into de Cape--an we been livin'
roun' here ever since.
"All my white folks is daid 'cept 'Missie Kattie', an' do you know, some
year back: she cum to see me. Yessir; her car druv up, right der, to de
sidewalk, an' she made all her grandchillun get out an' shake han's wif
me. She sho' wuz a fine woman!
"'Ku Klux?' Yes, dey wuz aroun' sometime', but dey didden bother ef you
mind your own bizness. But de darkies better not congregate; 'caus' day
shore take 'em out an' flag' em. If dey ketch you at a neighbor's house
atter dar, you shore better have a pass fum yo' 'Massa.'"