Owns her home and lives on the income from rental property.
Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Person interviewed: Clarice Jackson
1738 Virginia Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age: 84
"Was I here in slavery days? Well, I remember when the soldiers went
to war. Oh, I'm old--I ain't no baby. But I been well taken care of--I
been treated well.
"I was bred and born right here in Arkansas and been livin' here all
the time 'cept when they said the Yankees was comin'. I know we was
just closin' up a crop. They put us in wagons and carried us to Wolf
Creek in Texas and then they carried us to Red River. That was because
it would be longer 'fore we found out we was free and they would get
more work out a us.
"Old master's name was Robert Johnson and they called him Bob.
"After freedom they brought us back to Arkansas and put the colored
folks to workin' on the shares. Yes'm they said they got their share.
They looked like they was well contented. They stayed three or four
years. We was treated more kinder and them that was not big enough to
work was let go to school. I went to school awhile and then I had a
hard spell of sickness--it was this slow fever. I was sick five or six
weeks and it was a long time 'fore I could get my health so I didn't
try to go to school no more. Seemed like I forgot everything I knowed.
"When I was fifteen I got tired of workin' so hard so I got married,
but I found out things was wusser. But my husband was good to me. Yes
ma'm, he was a good man and nice to me. He was a good worker. He was
deputy assessor under Mr. Triplett and he was a deputy sheriff and
then he was a magistrate. Oh, he was a up-to-date man. He went to
school after we was married and wanted me to go but I thought too much
of my childun. When he died, 'bout two years ago, he left me this
house and two rent houses. Yes ma'm, he was a good man.
"They ain't nothin' to this here younger generation. Did you ever see
'em goin' so fast? They won't take time to let you tell 'em anything.
They is in a hurry. The world is too fast for me, but thank the Lord
my childun is all settled. I got some nieces and nephews though that
is goin' too fast.
"Yes'm, I'm gettin' along all right. I ain't got nothin' to complain
of."
Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Person interviewed: Israel Jackson
3505 Short Second, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age: 78
"My name's Israel Jackson. No ma'am, I wasn't born in Arkansas--born
in Yaller Bush County, Mississippi August de third, 1860.
"My old master? Called him General--General Bradford. I don't know
where he was but he was gone somewhere. Don't know her name--just
called her missis.
"Yas'm, I was big enough to work. Dey had me to lead out my young
master's horse on de grass. I had a halter on it and one time I laid
down and went to sleep. I had de rope tied to my leg and when it come
twelve o'clock de horse drag me clear to de house. No ma'am, I didn't
wake up till I got to de house. It was my young master's saddle horse.
"Yas'm, I knowed dey was a war 'cause de men come past just as thick.
No'm, I wasn't afraid. I kept out of de way. Old missis wouldn't let
us get in de way. I 'member dey stopped dere and told us we was free.
Lots of de folks went off but my mother kept workin' in de field, and
my father didn't leave.
"Old master had us go by his name. Dat's what dey called 'em--all de
hands on de place.
"I thought from boyhood he was awful cruel. Didn't 'low us chillun in
de white folks' house at all. Had one woman dat cooked. Dey was fifty
or a hundred chillun on de place and dey had a big long trough dug out
of a log and each chile had a spoon and he'd eat out of dat trough.
Yas'm, I 'member dat. Eat greens and milk. As for meat, we didn't know
what dat was. My mother would go huntin' at night and get a 'possum
to feed us and sometimes old master would ketch her and take it away
from her and give her a piece of salt meat. But sometimes she'd bury a
'possum till she had a chance to cook it. And dey'd take sackin' like
you make cotton sacks and dye it and make us clothes.
"When de conch would blow at four o'clock every mornin' everybody got
up and got ready for de field. Dey'd take dere chillun up to dat big
long house. When mother went to de field I'd go along and lead de
horse till I got to where dey was workin', then I'd sit down and let
the horse eat. I was young and it's been so long.
"No ma'am, I never went to school. No ma'am, can't read or write.
Never had no schools as I remember.
"Dey stayed on de place after freedom. No ma'am, dey did not pay 'em.
I'se old but I ain't forgot dat. Dey fed theirselves by stealin' and
gettin' things in de woods.
"After dem Blue Jackets come in dere General Bradford never did come
back and our folks stayed dere and when dey did leave dey went to
Sunflower County. After dat we got along better.
"How many brothers and sisters? I b'lieve I had five.
"I stayed with my parents till I was grown. No ma'am, dey didn't 'low
us to marry. When we was twenty we was neither man nor boy; we was
considered a hobble-de-hoy. And when we got to be twenty-one we was
considered a man and your parents turned you loose, a man. So I left
home and went to Louisiana. I stayed dere a year, then I went back to
Mississippi and worked. I come here to Arkansas twenty-six years ago.
Is dis Jefferson? Well, I come here to de west end.
"Since I been here I been workin' at de foundry--Dilley's foundry.
"'Bout two years ago I got sick and broke up and not able to work and
Mr. Dilley give me a pension--ten dollars a month. But de wages and
hour got here now and I don't know what he's gwine do. When de next
pay-day comes he might give me somethin' and he might not.
"Miss, de white folks has done so bad here dat I don't know what dey's
gwine a do. Mr. Ed and his father been takin' care of me for twenty
years. Dey sure has been takin' care of me. Miss, I can't find no
fault of Mr. Ed Dilley at all.
"I can do a little light work but when I work half a day I get nervous
and can't do nothin'.
"No ma'am, I never did vote. Dey didn't 'low us to vote. Well, if dey
did I didn't know it and I didn't vote.
"Well, Miss, I think de young folks is near to de dogs and de dogs
ought to have 'em and bury 'em. Miss, I don't 'cept none of 'em. I
wouldn't want to go on and tell you how dey has treated me. Dey ain't
no use to ask 'cause I ain't gwine tell you. The people is more wicked
and more wuss and ever'thing. I don't think nothin' of 'em.
"Miss, let me tell you de only folks dat showed me any friendly is Mr.
Ed Dilley. I worked out dere night and day, Sunday and Monday--any
time he called.
"Miss, I ain't never seen any jail house; I ain't never been to police
headquarters; I ain't never been called a witness in my life. I try to
live right, all I know, and if I do wrong it's somethin' I don't know.
I ain't had dat much trouble in my life.
"I went up here to Judge Brewster to see about de pension and he said,
'Got a home?' I said, 'Yes.' 'Got it paid for?' 'Yes.' 'Got a deed?'
'Yes.' 'Got a abstract?' 'Yes.' 'Well, bring it up here and sign it
and go get de pension.'
"But I wouldn't do it. Miss, I would starve till I was as stiff as a
peckerwood peckin' at a hole 'fore I'd sign anything on my deed. Miss,
I wouldn't put a scratch on my deed. I wouldn't trust 'em, wouldn't
trust 'em if dey was behind a Winchester."
Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor
Person interviewed: Lula Jackson
1808 Valentine Street, Little Rock, Arkansas
Age: 79?
"I was born in Alabama, Russell County, on a place called Sand Ridge,
about seven miles out from Columbus, Georgia. Bred and born in
Alabama. Come out here a young gal. Wasn't married when I come out
here. Married when a boy from Alabama met me though. Got his picture.
Lula Williams! That was my name before I married. How many sisters do
you have? That's another question they ask all the time; I suppose you
want to know, too. Two. Where are they? That's another one of them
questions they always askin' me. You want to know it, too? I got one
in Clarksdale, Mississippi. And the other one is in Philadelphia; no,
I mean in Philipp city, Tallahatchie (county). Her name is Bertha
Owens and she lives in Philipp city. What state is Philipp city in?
That'll be the next question. It is in Mississippi, sir. Now is thar
anything else you'd like to know?
"My mother's name was Bertha Williams and my father's name was Fred
Williams. I don't know nothing 'bout mama's mother. Yes, her name was
Crecie. My father's mother was named Sarah. She got killed by
lightning. Crecie's husband was named John Oliver. Sarah's husband was
named William Daniel. Early Hurt was mama's master. He had an awful
name and he was an awful man. He whipped you till he'd bloodied you
and blistered you. Then he would cut open the blisters and drop
sealing-wax in them and in the open wounds made by the whips.
"When the Yankees come in, his wife run in and got in the bed between
the mattresses. I don't see why it didn't kill her. I don't know how
she stood it. Early died when the Yankees come in. He was already
sick. The Yankees come in and said, 'Did you know you are on the
Yankee line?'
"He said, 'No, by God, when did that happen?'
"They said, 'It happened tonight, G----D---- you.'
"And he turned right on over and done everything on hisself and died.
He had a eatin' cancer on his shoulder.
Schooling, Etc.
"My mother had so many children that I didn't get to go to school
much. She had nineteen children, and I had to stay home and work to
help take care of them. I can't write at all.
"I went to school in Alabama, 'round on a colored man's place--Mr.
Winters. That was near a little town called Fort Mitchell and Silver
Rim where they put the men in jail. I was a child. Mrs. Smith, a white
woman from the North, was the second teacher that I had. The first was
Mr. Croler. My third teacher was a man named Mr. Nelson. All of these
was white. They wasn't colored teachers. After the War, that was. I
have the book I used when I went to school. Here is the little
Arithmetic I used. Here is the Blue Back Speller. I have a McGuffy's
Primer too. I didn't use that. I got that out of the trash basket at
the white people's house where I work. One day they throwed it out.
That is what they use now, ain't it?
"Here is a book my husband give me. He bought it for me because I told
him I wanted a second reader. He said, 'Well, I'll go up to the store
and git you one.' Plantation store, you know. He had that charged to
his account.
"I used to study my lesson. I turned the whole class down once. It was
a class in spelling. I turned the class down on
'Publication'--p-u-b-l-i-c-a-t-i-o-n. They couldn't spell that. But
I'll tell the world they could spell it the next day.
"My teacher had a great big crocus sack, and when she got tired of
whipping them, she would put them in the sack. She never did put me in
that sack one time. I got a whipping mos' every day. I used to fight,
and when I wasn't fightin' for myself, I'd be fighting for other
children that would be scared to fight for theirselves, and I'd do
their fighting for them.
"That whippin' in your hand is the worst thing you ever got. Brother,
it hurts. I put a teacher in jail that'd whip one of my children in
the hand.