*Interview with James Wilson,*
*St. Louis, Missouri.*
_James Lives Alone At 87_
Living alone at the age of 87 probably is not a mode of existence that
would appeal to many. However, James Wilson, a former slave living in a
single room in the rear of 917 O'Fallon Street seemingly takes this
little matter of a lonely existence in his stride. James stands quite
erect, considering his years and his eyesight is good. His hair is white
and he is about six feet tall.
When the writer called to interview him, both he and his room were
spotlessly clean. Sitting outside the door of his quarters James' mind
wandered back and forth through the years he has lived since he was born
on Christmas day, 1850, and, piecing together the bits of information
that he could recall, he told the following story:
"I was born in Charleston, South Carolina, December 25, 1850. John
Wilson was my owner. He owned more than 700 slaves and a terrible big
plantation where he raised cotton, rice, corn, and cattle. Bless your
soul, daughter, he was a hard task master, yes he was. He owned big
ships, both kinds, for freight and passengers. He kept me running on dem
boats from de time I was 10 years old till I was 16. We sailed
everywhere. From New York to Rome, Jerusalem, Sweden, France and
everywhere under de sun transporting passengers, clothing, cotton, and
everything from one country to another. I handled de sails. It certainly
was hard work for me because I was so young, but I was an expert wid dem
sails just de same. Yes, I was.
"But old President Abraham Lincoln taken me off dat boat, and I fought
in de Civil War. I lacked two months of fighting five years. I never
even married until 15 years ago, I married a woman 45 years old. After
we was married, she decided I was too old for her, so she just went on
off with a younger man. I never been de father of a child in my whole
life. I git a $13 a month old age pension to live on. Since I been free,
I made my living railroading, brakesman and steamboating.
"I voted many times in my life and just can't feel right to vote nothin'
but a Republican ticket whether they ever get back in power again. I
never did have a political job nor had no friends had any that I know
of. I just can't explain how I feel 'bout this generation. Dey jes'
ain't doing right, dat's all. Dey jes' doing everything dey is big
enough to do. Don't regard nobody, don't care what dey say nor how dey
act to their own parents nor nobody else's folks. Dey just sets me to
worrying terrible sometimes, wonderin' what on dis earth gonna become of
dis here sin-racked generation.
"Dem old Ku Klux was a bad lot of mongrels. Dey catch you out widout a
pass dey cut you 100 lashes, and you feel like you ain't able to go
nowhere again wid a pass or widout one. After de war was fought, I do
know some of dem old slave owners to be nice enough to start der slaves
off in freedom wid somethin' to live on till dey get on der feet, but
dey wasn't in droves, I tell you dat now, just a mighty precious few.
Den der was some others dat kept der slaves in bondage after de war,
just like before de war and de slaves, never know till der dying day dat
dey was free folks. Far as dat goes, down dere just below Sunflower,
Mississippi, and lots of other countryside places in de deep South, dey
got slavery right now. De only song I can think of we use to sing so
much was: 'O, Lord Remember Me'.
"I can't remember none de other songs. I been all over de world, seen
how different races are in dere own lands, and I often sits and wonder
if maybe dese little fellows here now running about will see de equal
rights dat gits talked about now and den. But, daughter, you and me will
never see it. No we won't. I am a member of the Paradise Baptist
Church."