*Interview with Miemy Johnson, 82 years old*
--_W.W. Dixon, Winnsboro, S.C._
Miemy Johnson has no particular place of abode. She is a transient among
her children, kin people, and friends. In whatever home she may be
temporarily an occupant, she does the cooking and family washing.
"I knowed when dat bunty rooster hopped in de door, flap his wings and
crowed, dis mornin', dat us gonna have company today. I told Sam so
befo' he left here. Him laugh and say: 'Ma, dat bunty rooster is a big
liar sometime. Maybe him just wanna recommend hisself to you and beat de
pig to de slop bucket dat you ain't carried out to de pen yet.' I's sure
glad dat you come, for it'll show Sam dat dat chicken never told a lie.
"Set down dere and let me fetch you a plate of boil peanuts, which I
just is set off de fire. You lak them? Glad you do, honey. Most white
folks love them dat way, 'stead of parched. How you been? You sure is
growed since de last day I clap my eyes on you. How's I been? Poorly.
I's just a waitin' for de chariot to carry me home!
"Well, us done cut down de underbrush, now let us git into de new
ground. You just wanna talk 'bout me and what happen to me all 'long de
last eighty years? Dat's some big field to go over.
"My pappy was name Henry. My mammy name Ceily. They both b'long to old
Marse Johnnie Mobley, but my pappy's pappy b'long to de Johnson's;
they's big white folks on de Catawba River side of de county. They sold
deir plantation and some of de slaves, to old marster and his daughter,
Miss Nancy. She was de widow Thompson befo' her marry dat Kentucky hoss
drover, Marse Jim Jones.
"Freedom come. My pappy 'membered de Johnson's and took dat for his
name. I never been able to git 'way from dat name. I marry little Phil
Johnson. My brudder was Adam Johnson and my sister was Easter. Her marry
Allan Foster.
"My husband and me live in de old Mobley quarter, three miles southwest
of Woodward and just 'bout a quarter of a mile from where you settin'
dere a writin' right now. Long as him live, him was de carriage driver
for de Mobleys. He 'tend Fellowship Church. All de Mobleys done dead or
moved 'way. Dere is nothin' left to tell de tale but dat cemetery you
passed, comin' 'long down here and de ghosts dat shiver 'round dere in
de nighttime. Whenever it snow, them ghosts have been seen travelin'
down de road and up de avenue to Cedar Shades. You know dat's 'bout a
quarter of a mile farther down de road from where Marse Johnnie's
brudder, James Mobley, lived. Fine old house dere yet, but just colored
folks live in it.
"Our chillun was Roxanna, Malinda, Ben, Mary, Waddell, Queen Elizabeth,
Russell, Pearly, Thomasine, Helen, Alberta, Maggie, Mary Jane, Willie,
Sam and Roy. Had de easiest birth pains when, to my big surprise, de
twins, Sam and Roy come. Dat been forty years ago last July. I 'members
well, dat de twins was born on a Wednesday and I walk to Red Hill Church
de very nex' Sunday. Rev. Richard Cook was de preacher. Him didn't see
me a settin' in de church and he pray for me by name, as bein' in de
perils of childbirth. And bless God, me right dere in dat church a goin'
'long wid de rest of them a singin': 'Amazin' Grace How Sweet De Sound
Dat Saved A Wretch Lak Me'. I was a proud wretch dat day as sure's you
born!
"Does I 'member anything 'bout de earthquake? Jesus my Lord, yes! Us was
holdin' a revival meetin' in Red Hill dat night! It was a moonlight
Tuesday night. Brother Stevenson and Brother Moore was a helpin' Brother
Richard Cook carry on de meetin'. It was de last day of August, in '86.
Brother Moore had preached, de choir had sung a hymn, and Brother
Stevenson was in de middle of a prayer. Him said sumpin' 'bout de devil
goin' 'round lak a roarin' lion a seekin' folks for to devour. Then de
roarin' was heard. De church commence to crack and shake and rock. Then
all de folks holler: 'Oh Lordy.' They run out dat church and some took
up de big road to de depot at Woodward. Some fell down in de moonlight
and cry and pray. Brother Cook say de Bible says: 'Bow down, or kneel or
fall on your face befo' de Lord'. Then he say: 'Let us all fall on our
faces dis time.' Us did and each one of them preachers pray. 'Bout time
they git through, us see a rider on a milk white hoss a gallopin' up to
de church wid de white mane and tail of dat hoss a wavin' and shinin' in
de moonlight. De people went wild wid fear and scream at de top of deir
voices; 'It's de white hoss wid his rider of de book of Revelations
goin' forth, conquerin' and to conquer.' They bust forth in dat mighty
spiritual 'Oh Run Here, Believer, Run Here, Oh Sinner Your House On
Fire! Oh Sinner Your House On Fire!' They run and surround de white hoss
and his rider and what you reckon? Us find out it was just Marse Ed
Woodward on his white hoss, John, comin' back from courtin' my young
mistress, Tillie Mobley, dat him marry de nex' Christmas.
"Marse Ed got down off dat hoss when us beg him to stay wid us. It's a
pow'ful comfort to have a brave white man 'round at sich a time 'mongst
a passle of terrified niggers, I tells you! And to think Marse Ed done
dead.
"You goin' now? You ain't eat all your peanuts. Put them in your pocket
and eat them on de way to de Boro. Goodbye--I 'spect I'll git to glory
befo' you does. If I does, I'll be dere a waitin' wid a glad hand and a
glad voice to welcome you to de everlastin' home."