Ella Pittman's son, Almira Pittman was present when I interviewed his
mother. He was born in 1884. He added this information to what Ella told
me:
"She is the mother of nine children--three living. I use to hear mama
tell about how they did in slavery times. If she could hear good now she
could map it out to you."
I asked him why he didn't teach his mother to read and write and he
said, "Well, I tell you, mama is high strung. She didn't have no real
name till she went to Louisiana."
These people live in a well-furnished home. The living room had a rug,
overstuffed furniture and an organ. Ella was clean.
Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Person interviewed: Ella Pittman
2417 W. Eleventh Street, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age: 84
[TR: Appears to be same as last informant despite different address.]
"Here's one that lived then. I can remember fore the Civil War started.
That was in the State of North Carolina where I was bred and born in
March 1853. Mac Williams, he was my first owner and John Strickland was
my last owner. That was durin' of the war. My white folks told me I was
thirteen when peace was declared. They told me in April if I make no
mistake. That was in North Carolina. I grewed up there and found my
childun there. That is--seven of them. And then I found two since I been
down in here. I been in Arkansas about forty years.
"When the war come I heard em say they was after freein' the people.
"My mother worked in the field and old mistress kep' me in the house.
She married a widow-man and he had four childun and then she had one so
there was plenty for me to do. Yes ma'm!
"I ain't never been to school a day in my life. They didn't try to send
me after freedom. I had a very, very bad, cruel stepfather and he sent
all his childun to school but wouldn't send me. I stayed there till I
was grown. I sho did. Then I married. Been married just once. Never had
but that one man in my life. He was a very good man, too. Cose he was a
poor man but he was good to me.
"Yes ma'm, I sho did see the Ku Klux and the paddyrollers, too. They
done em bad I tell you.
"I know they was a white man they called Old Man Ford. He dug a pit just
like a barbecue pit, and he would burn coals just like you was goin' to
barbecue. Then he put sticks across the top and when any of his niggers
didn't do right, he laid em across that pit. I member they called it Old
Ford's Hell.
"I had a bad time fore freedom and a bad time after freedom till after I
married. I'm doin' tollably well now. I lives with my son and his wife
and she treats me very well. I can't live alone cause I'se subject to
inagestin' and I takes sick right sudden.
"I'm just as thankful as I can be that I'm gettin' along as well as I
is.
"I stayed in the North in Detroit one year. I liked it very well. I
liked the white people very well. They was so sociable. My son lives
there and works for Henry Ford. My oldest son stays in Indiana.
"It was so cold I come back down here. I'se gettin' old and I needs to
be warm. Good-bye."
Interviewer: Samuel S. Taylor
Person interviewed: Sarah Pittman
1320 W. Twentieth Street, Little Rock, Arkansas
Age: About 82
"I never saw nothing between white folks and colored folks. My white
folks were good to us. My daddy's white folks were named Jordan--Jim
Jordan--and my mama's folks were Jim Underwood. And they were good. My
mama's and father's folks both were good to the colored folks. As the
song goes, 'I can tell it everywhere I go.' And thank the Lord,
I'm here to tell it too. I raised children, grandchildren, and
great-grandchildren you see there. That is my great-grandson playing
there. He is having the time of his life. I raised him right too. You
see how good he minds me. He better not do nothin' different. He's about
two years old.
"I was born in Union Parish, Louisiana way up yonder in them hills, me
and my folks, and they come down here.
"Jim Jordan married one of the Taylor girls--Jim Taylor's daughter. The
old folks gave mama to them to do their housework. My father and mama
didn't belong to the same masters. He died the first year of the
surrender. He was a wonderful man. He was a Jackson. On Saturday night
he would stay with us till Sunday. On Sunday night he would go home. He
would play with us. Now he and mama both are dead. They are gone home
and I am waiting to go. They're waiting for me in the kingdom there. As
the song says, 'I am waiting on the promises of God.'
"My mama did housework in slave time. I don't know what my father did.
In them days you done some working from plantation to plantation. Them
folks is all gone in now near about. Guess mine will be the next time.