*Interview with Ann Ulrich Evans,*
*St. Louis, Missouri.*
_Wed For Economic Reasons_
Although 94 years of living have dimmed her eyes a bit and the burdens
she's packed through the years have bent her wiry frame Ann Ulrich
Evans, a former slave, is still able to carry on. She lives in a rear
apartment of the slum district at 1405 North Eighth Street with her
daughter, Eliza Grant.
Ann declares she's had eleven children of her own and that from them
have sprung so many grand children and great grand children that she's
entirely lost count of them. The story of the incidents that have filled
her life but have still left her able to love mankind and smile follows
substantially in her own words:
"I was born March 10, 1843 on Dolphin Street, Mobile, Alabama. My
mother's name was Charlotte Ulrich and my father's was Peter Pedro
Ulrich. I am the mother of 11 children and we has over 100
grandchildren. Dere is so many great grandchildren and great great
grandchildren we jes' quit countin' when we comes to dem. I has four
generations, and dey give me a party three years ago, and so many of my
off spring come der wasn't any room for half of 'em and even dat was not
de beginning of de lot of 'em. I got a gang of 'em I never did see, and
never will see, I don't reckon. Dey just write and tell us dey got 'em.
"My father was owned by a rich old boss named Captain Bullmay. He owned
a raft of boats, and my father was a cook on one of dem boats. Mamma
only raised two of her children. De Ulriches sold me when I was a girl
to Dr. Odem in de same county, and I worked in his field, spun thread to
make cloth, pulled fodder, put de spinning in, and after a while, I
don't know how long, he swapped me off for two boys. My new owner was
Gilbert Faulkner. He was a railroad section man. I worked in de field
for him until we was set free. I had some good times and some bad times
both. De man I married worked on the railroad for him. His name was
Moses Evans. Dat was in Helena, Arkansas. My husband's been dead more
dan 30 years now. I got four daughters and three sons living and a host
of grand and great grand, and great great grandchildren living. Since my
husband died, I just live from one child to the other and some time de
grandchildren takes care of me, I havn't done no kind of work since my
children got big enough to work. Dey been pretty good to me all my days.
"'Bout a year ago de government done started giving me a pension, $11 a
month. It helps some, but don't very much, every thing's so high, honey.
When freedom come I asked my old owner to please let me stay on wid dem,
I didn't have no whar to go no how. So he just up and said, 'Ann, you
can stay here if you want to, but I ain't goin' to give you nothing but
your victuals and clothes enough to cover your hide, not a penny in
money, do no nigger get from me.' So I up and said, 'Why boss, dey tells
me dat since freedom we git a little change', and he cursed me to all de
low names he could think of and drove me out like a dog. I didn't know
what to do, or where to go, so I sauntered off to a nearby plantation
where a colored slave kept house for her bachelor slave owner and she
let me stay with her, and her boss drove me off after two days, because
I kept company with a nigger who worked for a man he didn't like. I was
barefooted, so I asked Moses Evans, to please buy me some shoes, my feet
was so sore and I didn't have no money nor no home neither. So he said
for me to wait till Saturday night and he'd buy me some shoes. Sure
'nough when Saturday night come, he buyed me some shoes, and
handkerchiefs and a pretty string of beads and got an old man neighbor
named Rochel to let me stay at his house. Den in a few weeks me and him
got married, and I was mighty glad to marry him to git a place to stay.
Yes I was. 'Cause I had said, hard times as I was having if I seed a man
walking with two sticks and he wanted me for a wife I'd marry him to git
a place to stay. Yes I did and I meant just dat. In all my born days I
never knowed of a white man giving a black man nothing, no I ain't.
"Now child, let me tell you right here, I was always a heap more scared
of dem Ku Klux dan I was of anything else. 'Cause de war was to help my
folks. But dem old Ku Klux never did mean us no good. Honey, I used to
make pallets on de floor after de war for my children, myself and
husband to sleep on, 'cause dem Ku Klux just come all around our house
at night time and shoot in de doors and windows. Dey never bothered
nobody in de day time. Den some time dey come on in de house, tear up
everything on de place, claim dey was looking for somebody, and tell us
dey hungry 'cause dey ain't had nothin' to eat since de battle of
Shiloh. Maybe twenty of 'em at a time make us cook up everything we got,
and dey had false pockets made in dere shirt, and take up de skillet
with de meat and hot grease piping hot and pour it every bit down de
front of dem shirts inside de false pockets and drop de hot bread right
down dere, behind de meat and go on.
"One night dey come to our house after my husband to kill him, and my
husband had a dream dey's coming to kill him. So he had a lot of colored
men friends to be at our house with guns dat night and time dey seed dem
Ku Klux coming over de hill, dey started shooting just up in de air and
about, and dem Ku Klux never did bother our house no more. I sure glad
of dat. I'se so tired of dem devils. If it hadn't been for dat dey would
have killed everyone of us dat night. I don't know how come dey was so
mean to us colored folks. We never did do nothing to dem.
"Dey go to some of dem niggers' house, and dey run up de chimney corner
to hide and dem low down hounds shoot 'em and kill 'em in de chimney
hole. Dey was terrible. Den de next bad thing happened to us poor
niggers after de war was dis. De white folks would pay niggers to lie to
de rest of us niggers to git der farming done for nothing. He'd tell us
come on and go with me, a man wants a gang of niggers to do some work
and he pay you like money growing on trees. Well we ain't had no money
and ain't use to none, so we glad to hear dat good news. We just up and
bundle up and go with this lying nigger. Dey carried us by de droves to
different parts of Alabama, Arkansas and Missouri. After we got to dese
places, dey put us all to work all right on dem great big farms. We all
light in and work like old horses, thinking now we making money and
going to git some of it, but we never did git a cent. We never did git
out of debt. We always git through with fine big crops and owed de white
man more dan we did when we started de crop, and got to stay to pay de
debt. It was awful. All over was like dat. Dem lying niggers caused all
dat. Yes dey did.
"I don't know what to think of this younger generation. 'Pears to me
like dey jest ain't no good. Dey is too trifling. I often times tell 'em
dere chances today side of mine in my day. Dey jest say dey wouldn't
take what I been through.
"But dey is just a hopeless lot, just plain no good. All I can say is as
you say, some is some good but so few 'ginst de masses, take so long to
find 'em, I just don't bother 'bout trying to hunt 'em out.
"I voted once in my life, but dat's been so long ago I don't 'member who
it was for, or where I was living at de time. I never had no friends in
politics to my knowing. All I 'member dey told me to put a cross under
de elephant, and I did dat. I don't know nothin 'more 'bout it dan dat.
Don't know what it meant or nothing. After all I been through, honest
chile, I love everybody in de world, dose dat mistreat me and dose dat
didn't. I don't hold nothing in my heart 'ginst nobody, no I don't. God
going to righten each wrong some day, so I'se going to wait with love in
my heart till dat day come. Den I speck I will feel plenty sorry, for
what's going to happen to dem dat mistreated me and my people and all
other helpless folks. 'Cause I seen white folks in my day, have 'bout as
tough time in a way as black folks, and right now some of 'em fairing
just 'bout like me.
"I 'member how de old slaves use to be workin' in de field singing 'Am I
born to die, And Lay Dis Body Down.' And dey sing, 'Dark was de night
and cold de ground, on which my lord was laid, Great drops of blood like
sweat run down, in agony He prayed.' Another song was 'Way over in de
promised land my Lord calls me and I must go'. And 'On Jordan's Stormy
Banks I stand, and cast a wishful eye. To Canaan's fair and happy land,
where my possessions lie. All o'er those wide extended plains, Shines
one eternal day; There God, the son forever reigns, And scatters night
away. No chilling winds, nor pois'nous breath, Can reach that healthful
shore; Sickness and sorrow, pain and death, Are felt and feared no more.
When shall I reach that happy place, And be forever blest? When shall I
see my father's face, And in his bosom rest? I am Bound for the Promised
Land.'
"I am a member of the Sanctified Church. I was a Baptist for years."