SHADOWS.
We arrived in Selma several days before Christmas. Here everything was
strange to me, as I had never been in a city before. I did not know any
one and it was not long before I was crying to return to Snow Hill. My
father gave me to understand then, that Selma was my home now and that I
should not be permitted to return to Snow Hill. He said that he was
going to put me in school when the New Year came, but when the time came
nothing was said about school. He gave us little care and often we were
in need of food and clothes.
After spending a few weeks doing nothing, I went out one day to hunt for
work and succeeded in getting a job at the compress, where they reduced
the size of a bale of cotton by one-half and clipped the tires. My job
was to straighten out the bent tires. I got twenty-five cents a day for
this. That week I made one dollar and fifty cents. This was the most
money I had ever had. I spent almost all of it for provisions and that
night my sister cooked a great supper. Finally, my father said that he
would save my wages for me, but if he did he has it still, as I never
have seen any that he collected.
I had not been in Selma long before I was taken ill. That misfortune
changed my whole life. I had no medical attendance and suffered
greatly. Sometimes I prayed and sometimes I cried. The news reached Snow
Hill that I was sick and not being cared for. As soon as she could, my
aunt Rina came to Selma for me and carried me home.
On my return to Snow Hill I was sick and emaciated, but few people
welcomed me. Many tried to discourage my aunt for bringing me back. They
gave me about three months to live. I was glad to be at home again and
had the consolation of knowing that should I die I would be buried in
the old burying ground.
I was unable at the time to do any work on the farm, so I was put to the
task of raising chickens. I took personal interest in the little chicks.
I had a name for each one of them. I would follow them around the yard
and see them work for their food. When I was weary of this I would go to
an old deserted cabin nearby, taking a few old books and the Bible;
there unmolested I would spend hours at a time reading the Bible and
pondering over the books. One of the books was an old Davies' Practical
Arithmetic. Nothing gave me more pleasure than working out new sums for
the first time. I kept up this practice until I had read the New
Testament through several times and had worked every problem in the
arithmetic. In addition to this I would gather up wood and carry it home
for the people to cook with.
My aunt and her daughter were very poor and had to work each day for
what they could get to eat. It pained me because I could not go out and
work for something to eat as I had done in Selma. I never ate a full
meal although my aunt and her daughter insisted upon my doing so; I felt
that I had no right to eat up what they had worked so hard to get, while
I was doing nothing that was worth while. My aunt's daughter had a son
who was one month older than I; he was well grown for his age and always
was the picture of health. We all lived in a one-room cabin and there
were three beds in it, besides it was the kitchen and dining-room as
well. My aunt and her daughter wanted me to sleep at nights with their
boy, but he objected, so I would not force myself upon him. I asked them
to give me one or two old quilts and I would spread these upon the floor
of the cabin at night for my bed. I would get up early and roll them up
and store them away in some dark corner of the cabin until the next
night. I slept in this manner for several years.
After I had been at home for several months and my condition did not
improve, my aunt went about begging people for nickels and dimes to take
me to the local physician. I think she raised about three dollars in
this way and succeeded in getting a doctor to treat me, but he gave my
aunt to understand that she had to pay cash for each treatment.
I shall never forget one Sunday when a great many of the neighbors came
to our home, they began telling my aunt what they would do with me if
they were in her place. At the time I was in the back-yard watching the
chicks. Some one said that she should send me to the poorhouse, others
said that she had done so much for me, it was time that some of my other
people should take me and share in the burden, while others said that I
should be driven away and go wherever I could find shelter. I was so
offended at hearing this that I hobbled down the hill and there under a
pine tree, which now stands, I prayed for an hour or more for God to let
me die. After this prayer I lay down, folded my arms and closed my eyes,
to see if my prayer would be answered. After waiting for awhile I
finally decided to get up and I felt better then than I had felt for
several months. I have made many prayers since then, but never since
have I prayed to die.
None of the solicitations and advices from our good friends could change
my aunt's attitude towards me. In fact, she was more determined now than
ever to care for me. The next year she rented a little patch and worked
it as best she could and that fall she cleared a little money. As the
local physician had done me no good, she took me to Dr. George Keyser
who lived in the town of Richmond, eight or ten miles away. Dr. Keyser
had the reputation of being the best physician in that section of the
state and people would come for twenty-five and thirty miles around to
be treated by him. But we had also heard that he was a man who would not
treat any one without having his money down. As I remember, my aunt paid
him five dollars on the first visit and each time after that she would
send whatever she could get. I used to borrow a mule from one of the
neighbors to ride to see him. Sometimes when my medicine gave out and I
had to go without any money, I would pray to God the whole distance that
he might soften the doctor's heart so that he would let me have my
medicine. I don't know whether my prayers were needed or not, but I do
know that the doctor always treated me kindly and finally he told me
that I could be treated whenever my medicine gave out, money or no
money. He treated me in this way until the early fall of '84 when he
told my aunt that I needed an operation and she must try and get me a
place to stay nearby so that he could see me daily. After looking around
she found on the doctor's place an old fellow-servant, that is, an old
lady who belonged to the same man my aunt did in slavery time. Her name
was Lucy George; she was near the age of my aunt, and had never been
married. They were indeed glad to meet and she readily consented to take
me to her little cabin where she lived alone. The doctor visited his
plantation two or three times a week and usually came to see me. He
operated on me twice during my stay there.
"In 1888 the subject of this sketch, W. J. Edwards, was sent to me
by his aunt, Rina Rivers, for medical treatment. He had been sick
for several months from scrofula and it had affected the bone of
his left arm (hinneras) near the elbow joint, and the heel bone (os
calcis) of his left foot. It was with much difficulty and pain that
he walked at all.
The boy was kind, courteous and polite to every one, white and
colored, and all sympathized with him in his great affliction, and
manifested their sympathy in a very substantial way, by sending him
many good things to eat. This enabled me to build up his general
health.
I had to remove the dead bone (necrosed bone) from his arm and heel
many times. He always stood the operation patiently and manifested
so great a desire to get well, I kept him near me a long time and
patiently watched his case.
After four years' treatment his heel cured up nicely, and he was
enabled to walk very well, and the following fall he picked cotton.
With prudence, care and close application to cotton picking, he
saved money enough to very nearly pay his medical account, and his
fare to Booker Washington's School at Tuskegee, Alabama.
The work of this pupil of Booker Washington,--carried on under
adverse circumstances,--is worthy of emulation. He has, and is
now, doing much good work for his race. He has won the confidence
and esteem of all the white and colored citizens of this section of
the country. He is a remarkable man, a great benefactor to his
race, and it affords me great pleasure to testify as to his history
and character. Mr. R. O. Simpson, on whose plantation he lived and
who aided him materially,--is one of the Trustees of his
Institute."
GEORGE W. KEYSER, M. D.
Richmond, Dallas County, Alabama.