*Interview with Susan Rhodes,*
*St. Louis, Missouri.*
_She 'Members Stars Falling_
Susan Davis Rhodes, more than 100 years old, a resident of St. Louis,
lives at 915 O'Fallon Street in the rear with her married daughter,
Susie West.
Susan is less than 5 ft. tall, weighs about 135 pounds and has mixed
gray curly hair. Her memory and eyesight are exceptionally good for her
years. Her small 3-room quarters are located in a very dilapidated old
brick building, in the slum area of St. Louis.
Seated on her back porch, she cheerfully told the following story of her
experiences.
"I was born in Jones County, North Carolina more than 100 years ago, I
don't know exactly how old I is but goin' by de count I got on my
children, dere ages and de war, and I even 'members de stars fallin', I
do know I'se more'n 100, but how much more I can't tell you dat. My
mother's name was Teeny Jones and my father's was Lott Davis. I 'member
15 of my mother's children, but she had a heap more of 'em dan dat. I
just don't 'member 'em all. I am de mother of 10 children myself. I got
6 living children, 11 living grandchildren, and so many living great and
great, great grandchildren I can't commence to count 'em.
"My first owner's name was Marse Edward Davis and his wife's name was
Miss Susie, and I was de nurse girl, waitress and housemaid all my slave
days. I was a good nigger and I never did get whipped much.
"I never did git no education in books neither, but did have common
sense education and knew how to treat folks. People in my day didn't
know book learning but dey studied how to protect each other, and save
'em from much misery as dey could. Dey didn't study trash and filth like
this new day generation. I 'members when de stars fell, I tried to ketch
some of 'em but I couldn't. I see'd in a dream a long time ago, honey,
dat one of dese United States presidents was going to send folks around
to get some of us slaves living to tell about our lives way back yonder,
'cause dey wants to know 'bout it from us ourselves and not what
somebody else wants to say. And course de President was not old 'nough
hisself to know, and he wants to learn de truth 'bout it all for hisself
and he's right, honey. Yes, he is. I 'member well when de war first
broke out de slave owners taken the little niggers from dere mammys, and
hide 'em in all kind of places from de Yankees, so when de old niggers
git der freedom, de white folks would have de children for slaves and
dey wouldn't know nothing 'bout freedom. But de Yankees was smart 'nough
to find out 'bout dat and freed us children and all.
"I 'member well when dey took Richmond, Va. I was nursing old Miss'
baby, and she just hollered and cried 'cause she thought de Yankees done
killed her husband. I was worse dan her. I thought dey done killed
everybody and me too, I just was too scared to die. All dem soldiers
coming in dere so mad dey didn't know what to do, and neither did we.
Lord, I was glad when dat was done. Dem old Ku Klux folks in dem old
hoods, would ketch us and beat us so bad. Dem was de meanest folks in
all de world I do know. We sure did hate dem folks. Dey run off every
one of my brothers. Den dere was dem nigger dogs. I guess you sure done
heard 'bout dem, dey git on de niggers' tracks and run em down every
time.
"Den my old Miss told my sister dat all de niggers was free now, go for
herself, but she was going to keep de two youngest niggers. Dat was me
and my baby sister, I don't know how old I was but I was big 'nough to
do any kind of work most.
"But my sister stole us away. A white woman in another county hired my
sister and gave her railroad fare to come to her place. My sister rolled
up 3 of our baby sisters like a bundle in a quilt and told 'em don't
move or cry and as soon as she could unroll 'em and let 'em have some
air she would. So she got on de train with them three little niggers in
a bundle and toted 'em up under her arms like dey was her clothes and
belongings, and put 'em under her seat on de train. De bundle was so big
every time de conductor passed it was in de way and he would kick it out
of his way. Sister protected dem de best she could. Soon as he pass, she
opened it and let 'em have some air. When she see him coming back, she
wrap' em up again. Dey was all sure glad to git off dat train. Dey had
been kicked so much and dasn't holler. So de white lady was mighty nice.
She let us all stay dere till we could do better. Sister didn't have
money 'nough to pay all us fare and she didn't want to leave us and we
didn't want her to leave us. So dat was de best she could do. After a
while she found our mother and daddy and they sent for us. My
grandfather hid under de hills in de woods, hiding to keep from going to
de war. Dey never did find him neither, but de boys all fought. After de
war was over my father worked on farms, till he had made money 'nough to
lease a piece of land at Fort Makin, North Carolina. I stayed dere with
him until he was mustered out. I reckon I was 25 years old when I
married, I don't know exactly. I farmed de whole time I was raising my
children, clear up till I come up here to St. Louis and dat was over 20
years ago.
"My daughter, Susie, I am living here with lost her husband five years
ago. She has worked at de nut factory every since she been here, till
her health failed her. She is like me now. Neither one of us is no
'count, can't do nothing but sit here to home. One of my nephews,
Sanders Randoll, is working on a W.P.A. job doing de best he can for us.
De other nephew, Freeman Hollister, can't git nothing to do. De relief
helped us some 'bout 18 months dat's all.
"I just look at dis new generation drinking and throwing parties every
night, on der way to hell wid der eyes wide open. It's a pity, ain't no
hopes for 'em. Der heads is too hard. I voted a Republican ticket one
time in my life many years ago, dat was de only time I recollect voting.
I don't even 'member de man I voted for.
"We old slaves use' to love to sing:
When I can read my titles clear,
To mansions in de sky,
I'll bid fare well to every tear,
And wipe my weeping eyes.
Should earth against my soul engage,
And fiery darts be hurled,
Then can I smile at Satan's rage
And face a frowning world.
Let cares like a wild deluge come,
And storms of sorrow fall.
May I but safely reach my home,
My God, my Heaven, my all.
There shall I bathe my weary soul,
In seas of heavenly rest.
And not a wave of trouble roll
Across my peaceful breast.
Tis faith supports my feeble soul,
In times of deep distress,
When storms arise and billows roll,
Great God, I trust thy grace.
Thy powerful arm still bears me up,
Whatever grieves befall;
Thou art my life, my joy, my hope,
And thou my all in life.
Bereft of friends, beset with foes,
With dangers all around,
To thee, I all my fears disclose;
In thee my help is found.
In every want, in every strait,
To thee alone I fly;
When other comforters depart,
Thou art forever nigh
O! That I knew the secret place,
Where I might find my God;
I'd spread my wants before his face,
And pour my woes abroad.
My God will pity my complaints,
And heal my broken bones;
He takes the meaning of his saints,
The language of their groans.
Arise my soul, from deep distress,
And banish every fear;
He calls thee to his throne of grace,
To spread thy sorrows there.
"We used to steal off to de woods and have church, like de spirit moved
us, sing and pray to our own liking and soul satisfaction and we sure
did have good meetings, honey. Baptize in de river like God said. We had
dem spirit filled meetins at night on de bank of de river and God met us
dere. We was quiet 'nough so de white folks didn't know we was dere and
what a glorious time we did have in de Lord. I am a member of St.
Douglass Baptist Church on Laclede Avenue. Dey is de foot washing
Baptists."