*Interview with Sarah Poindexter, 87 years old*
*800 Lady Street (in the rear), Columbia, S.C.*
--_Stiles M. Scruggs, Columbia, S.C._
"My name is Sarah Poindexter. I was born in 1850, on de plantation of
Jacob Poindexter, 'bout ten miles beyond Lexington court house. These
old eyes of mine has seen a mighty lot of things here'bouts durin' de
eighty-seven years I been 'round here.
"De first time I see Columbia, it de powerfulest lot of big wood houses
and muddy streets I ever see in my life. De Poindexter wagon dat carry
my daddy and my mammy and me to de big town, pretty often mire in
mudholes all 'long de big road from de plantation to de court house. Dat
trip was made 'bout 1857, 'cause I was seven years old when I made dat
trip.
"Since that first trip I has lived in sight of Columbia, 'most all my
life. My daddy, my mammy and me lived on de plantation of Master
Poindexter until 1863. We might a lived there longer, if things had not
been so upset. I sho' recall de excitement in de neighborhood when
roving crowds of niggers come 'long de big road, shoutin' and singin'
dat all niggers am free. Snow was on de ground, but de spirits of de
niggers was sho' plenty hot.
"De Poindexter plantation was one big place of excitement them days. De
slaves work some, all durin' de war, sometimes I now 'spects it was for
de sake of de missus. All of us loved her, 'cause she was so kind and
good to us. She was cryin' and worryin' all de time 'bout her manfolks,
who was away fightin' damn Yankees, she say. She sho' had plenty of
backbone or spunk, when stragglers show up, they always hungry and
always ready to take what they want to eat, until the missus come on de
scene with her trusty shotgun. It seem like de war last forever to me,
'stead of 'bout five years. To a child, Lordy, how long de years hang
on, and when we get past fifty, oh, how fast de time runs.
"One day mammy stay in bed, too sick to go to de big house to cook, and
befo' noon, who should come to our cabin but Missus Poindexter herself,
carryin' a basket. She set it down and say to mammy: 'Lawzy Sadie, I not
leave you here to starve; then she uncover de basket and set out a big
plate of chicken and dumplin', hot biscuits, coffee, and a lot of other
good things.
"When she gone, mammy eat some and give me some, and mammy git up next
mornin' and say: 'Sis, my white folks' missus am so good and kind, I am
goin' to work for her today, best I can'. She went but she wasn't good
well yet. Missus Poindexter many times fetch me a piece of candy or
somethin' when she go to town and back.
"No, I never see Columbia burn in 1865, but we reckon that it was
burnin' that night in February, 1865, 'cause we smell it and de whole
east look lak some extra light is shinin' and pretty soon, some folks
come ridin' by and tell us the whole city in flames. De next time I see
it, I guess there wasn't fifty houses standin'. Chimneys standin'
'round, is about all there was where most of de city was standin' befo'.
"My daddy was killed down 'bout Aiken, shortly after 1865. Me and mammy
come to Columbia and live in a cabin in de alley back of Senate Street,
where mammy take in washin' and cook for some white folks, who know her;
I helped her. She die in 1868, and I goes 'way with four other nigger
gals to Durham to work in a tobacco factory. Both white and nigger women
work there, but de nigger women do most of de hard work, strippin' de
leaves, stemmin' them, and placin' them to dry. White women finish them
for de trade.
"In 1870 when I comes back to Columbia de city am acomin' back. Big
buildin's up along de streets, but most of them was made of wood. Soon
after that I gets work in a hotel, but Columbia at that time was not so
big and Durham was smaller still, although Durham had more brick houses.
I was happier on de Poindexter plantation and had fewer things to worry
'bout than when I was ascratchin' 'round for myself.
"You ask has I been married? Yes, I marry a dandy lookin' young man,
'bout my own age, 'bout a year after I comes back to Columbia. His name,
so he say, is Sam Allen. He make fun of some other niggers who work at
one thing or another to live. One day he come to where I work and say he
bound to raise ten dollars. I hands him de cash, and he gives me a good
kiss right there befo' de folks, but I never see him again. I hear,
after he gone, that he win some more money at a gamblin' place on
Assembly street, and reckon he decided to blow 'way, while blowin' was
good.
"De folks who know me always call me Sarah Poindexter and I got it
honestly, like other honest slaves who never know what their real name
was, and so I keeps it to the end of the road.
"I am now livin' with a distant relative and firmly trustin' in Jesus,
as I have done for more than fifty years, that he will keep me to the
end of the trail here and greet me when I pass on 'way up Yonder'."