*Interview with Lightnin'*
--_John Proctor Mills_
Ignorant of the date of his birth, which occurred at Cahaba, the old
State capital, Lightnin' was an overgrown, gangling youth of fourteen or
thereabouts when the Civil War began. Born into slavery, he was the
property of one Joel Matthews, cotton planter, whose fields lay near the
then new capital city.
Lightnin' is happiest when spinning some yarn of the old days in Alabama
for an interested audience, and when one such inquired as to how he came
to be called "Lightnin'," the old man broke into a toothless grin and
launched at once into another of the stories dear to his heart.
"Dat's Massa Joel's doin's, boss. I jist natcherly wa'nt neber any too
peart an fas' on my foots, an de fus' thing Massa Joel eber sot me to
fetch him was a cool drink o' water. De water done got wa'm 'fo' I brung
it to him, an stid'er scoldin, he jist bus' out laffin' an' say: "Boy,
you is so slow I gwineter call you after the fas'est thing on earth.
Frum now on yo' name is Lightnin'." An I been Lightnin' eber since.
Co'se I knowed Massa Joel was throwin' off on me, lil' as I was, but it
looks lak I wa'nt bawn in no big hurry an I jist been movin' long
slow-like eber since.
"Massa Joel musta been bawn on a sunshiny day 'cause he sho' was bright
an' good natured. Eber' nigger on de place love him lak he was sont from
Heaben. Mos' eber' day he come to de quarters wid de fambly doctor to
look atter de niggers, fer he say a well-fed, healthy nigger, next to a
mule, is de bes' propersition a man kin 'ves' his money in." An' us
slaves fared as good as anybody.
"Naw suh! Massa Joel ain't neber hit me a lick in his life. He say a
well nigger whut doan' wuhk, sho' ain't got no eats an care comin' his
way, an ought'er be sont down de Ribber.
"Is I been mah'id? Yas suh. I done had fo' wives, an raise 'leben
chillun. But 'taint lak in de ole days. Chillun all gone, an de ole
nigger got no white folks, makes it mighty hahd to git along. 'Bout all
de ole man kin do is fish an I does dat an gits a li'l somp'in to eat.
'Fo young Massa Tom passed on--he was Massa Joel's boy--I ain't neber
wanted fer nothin'. I was Massa Tom's body guard. Us hunted an fished
together, played wid de white chillun an sometimes I rid behin' him on
de hoss, or on de fore seat wid de ca'iage driver when de fambly went to
chu'ch.
"But dat's all in de pas', an de good Lawd say no man kin bring back de
pas'. So I reckon, ef you all 'll 'scuse me, I better go fish my
trotline an git somp'in to make the de skillit smell."