*Interview with Alex Bufford,*
*St. Joseph, Missouri,*
*by Carl B. Boyer, St. Joseph,*
*Buchanan County, Mo.*
The wonderful meteoric display known as the "star shower" or "the time
when the stars fell," occured in 1833. It was on the night of the 12th
and 13th of November. Many ignorant persons concluded that the Judgement
day had come, or that the end of the world was at hand. Negroes
especially were very much frightened. A dance was in progress on a
Buchanan County farm, attended exclusively by slaves from the
neighborhood. When the star shower began the negroes were first made
aware of the fact by a messenger who ran frantically into the cabin and
shouted, "If you all wants to git to hebin, you'd better 'gin to say yo'
pra'rs mighty sudden, 'cause the Lawd is a-comin' wi' de fire an' de
glory an' de wuld'll be burnt up like a cracklin' 'fo mo'nin."
The dancers ran out, fell on their knees and cried for mercy. Not for
many days did they recover from their fright. One old negro declared
that if the world and his life were spared he would agree to break
eighty pounds of hemp every day instead of fifty, as he had been
accustomed to do.
The Negro was a part of the early Buchanan County family. They were
black slaves and happy.
The negro Mammy had her proper place in the scheme of things. She was no
fiction of a later day novelist, but genuine, gentle, untiring, and
faithful. The Negro mammy merits a prominent place in the picture an
artist might paint, for on her broad shoulders was carried the
generation which made the early history of Missouri fascinating and
great.
When once a week came "Johnny Seldom"--as the hot biscuits made of wheat
flour were called in Old Missouri--all other kinds of bread faded into
nothingness. Two kinds of biscuits were typically Missourian--the large,
fluffy, high biscuits--which looked like an undersized sofa pillow--and
beaten biscuits, small, crisp, delicious--the grandfather of all
afternoon tea refreshments. No "Po' white trash" can make beaten
biscuits. Indeed, much of the finest flavor of all cookery belonged
intuitively to the Negro. How the Negro cook managed to get biscuits
steaming hot from the cookroom a quarter of a mile distant through the
open yard to the dining room table has always been a mystery. She did
it, however, and successfully.
Mr. Alex Bufford, an ex-slave, lives at 1823 Seneca street, St. Joseph,
Missouri. Mr Bufford, (everyone calls him Uncle Alex) does not know how
old he is, but says he does remember that he was a grown man at the time
of the Civil War.
I heard about Uncle Alex from one of the ladies in the reference room at
the Public Library in St. Joseph, Mo. She told me I would have to see
Uncle Alex right at the noon hour or in the evening, as he would be at
work during working hours. I didn't ask her what kind of work he did but
I heeded her advice about seeing him at the noon hour. I arrived at his
place about 11:50 A.M. As I got out of my car I happened to look up the
alley. An old Negro driving a one-horse wagon was just entering it. I
guessed in a minute that this was the old gentleman I wanted to see.
When he approached I did not tell him at first what I wanted but started
talking about the weather. I saw in a minute the old fellow was going to
be interesting to talk to.
After we had commented about the weather, I told him what I wanted.
Uncle Alex, "Ya sir, I'll be bery glad to tell you anything I kin
recollect, but I don't remember like I used to." He said, "I don't know
how ole I am, but I was a grown man at the time of de war and I guess
I'se de oldest man in de city. I was born in Buchanan County and have
libed here all my life. I only been out de state once in my life and dat
wuz ober to Elwood seberal years ago. (Elwood, Kansas is only about 2
miles west of St. Joseph.) I'se just don't keer to go any place."
To my question about his family he replied. "Ya sir, I hab four
daughters and one son libing, but da don't help dis ole man any. Until I
got de ole age pension seberal months ago, I had a terbil time making a
libing."
Uncle Alex and his brother who is younger than he, live together. The
brother is an old man more feeble than Uncle Alex.
After the War Uncle Alex worked on the farm for the Conetts, near
Faucett, Mo. in Buchanan County for several years. Then he moved to town
and worked for the same people in their brickyard until just a few years
ago.
The house Uncle Alex lives in now belongs to the people he worked for so
long. He lives there rent free.