Part 10
"Child, dis a pretty bad time de people got dese days, I tell you. Coase I thankful don' nobody worry me. All treats me nice, both white en black, what knows me. I be gwine down de street en folks come out de courthouse en say, 'Ain dat Mom Jessie? Mom Jessie, don' you remember me?' I say, 'I know your favor, but I can' call your name.' Dey tell me en laugh en let me lone. It just like dis, child, I puts my trust in de Lord en I lives mighty peaceful like. I ain' got a enemy in de world cause everybody speaks appreciatively of me. Dere somebody bringin me somethin to eat all de time en I don' be studyin bout it neither. First one en den de other bring me a plate en somethin another. Don' want me to do no cookin. Say I might fall in de fire. Honey, de lady come by here de other day en tell me I gwine get de old 'oman money pretty soon now dat dere been so much talk bout. I be thankful when it get here too, child, cause I wants to get first one thing en de other to do some fixin up bout my house."
"Well, honey, I tired now cause I ain' much today nohow. Can' recollect nothin else dis mornin. Don' know what you want to hear bout all dem things for nohow."
_Source_: Mom Jessie Sparrow, age 83, ex-slave, Bond Street, Marion, S.C.--Third Report.
Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, Sept., 1937.
=Code No.= =Project, 1885-(1)= =Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis= =Place, Marion, S.C.= =Date, December 7, 1937=
=MOM JESSIE SPARROW=
=Ex-Slave, 83 Years=
"No, I ain' cold. I settin in de sun. Miss Ida, she went by here just now en call at me bout de door been open en lettin dat cold wind blow in on my back wid all de fire gone out. I tell her, it ain' botherin me none, I been settin out in de sun. Well, I don' feel much to speak bout, child, but I knockin round somehow. Miss Ida, she bring me dis paper to study on. She does always be bringin me de Star cause she know dat I love to see de news of Marion. It right sad bout de Presbyterian preacher, but everybody got to die, I say. Right sad though. We hear dat church bell here de other evenin en we never know what it been tollin for. I holler over dere to Maggie house en ax her how-come de church bell tollin, but she couldn' tell me nothin bout it. Reckon some chillun had get hold of it, she say. I tell her, dat bell never been pull by no chillun cause I been hear death note in it. Yes, honey, de people sho gwine horne (grieve) after Dr. Holladay."
"I say, I doin very well myself en I thankful I ain' down in de bed. Mighty thankful I ain' down in de bed en can set up en talk wid de people when dey comes to see me. I ain' been up dere on your street in a long time. Can' do much walkin dese days cause I ain' got no strength to speak bout. Ain' been up town dere in bout two months. Mr. Jervey ax John Evans what de matter dat I ain' been comin to de store to get my rations en John Evans tell him I been under de weather. Somehow another, dey all likes me up dere en when dey don' see me up town on Saturday, dey be axin bout me. Mr. Jervey, he come here de other day en bring me some tobacco en syrup en cheese en some of dem other things what he know dat I used to buy dere. He tell me dey all was wantin to see me back up dere again. I say, I can' go up dere cause I give way in my limbs en just comes right down whe' I don' have nothin to catch to. Got dis old stick here dat I balances myself on when I goes out round bout de house here. Cose I don' venture to steady myself no far ways on it."
"No, child, I ain' been up your way in a long time. I wash for Miss Betty all my best days, but I ain' been up to de house in many a mornin. Miss Betty like myself now, she old. I tell dem up dere to de house, de last time I talk wid dem, don' mind Miss Betty cause her mind ain' no good. I say, just gwine on en do what you got to do en let Miss Betty rest. You see, Miss Betty always would have her way en dis ain' no time to think bout breakin her neither. Cose I don' know nothin bout it, but Miss Betty say we bout one age."
"I reckon Miss Betty got plenty pecans dis year cause she does rake dem up by de tubfuls bout dis time of de year. I got my share of dem last year, but I ain' got no mind dat I gwine get any dis year less I go up dere. Yes, mam, I got my share last year cause when I went to carry Miss Betty washin home, I could pick up all I wanted while I come through under de trees. My Lord, Miss Betty, she had a quantity of dem last year, but I ain' hear what de crop doin dis year. I don' care though cause I wouldn' eat dem nohow widout I beat dem up en I ain' in no shape to go to all dat trouble. I loves peanuts good as anybody, but I couldn' never chew dem widout dey was beat up."
"Honey, my child en her daughter comin from de northern states dis Christmas to see me. Her name Evelyn, but dey call her Missie. She write here dat she want to come en I tell my Sammie to send word dey is welcome. Cose dey gwine stay wid my son, Sammie, cause dey got more room den I is en dey got a cookin stove, too, but she gwine be in en out here wid her old mammy off en on. Yes'um, I wants to see her mighty bad since it be dat she been gone from here so long. When she first went up dere, she worked for a white family dere to Hartford, Connecticut, but it won' long fore she got in a fidget to marry en she moved dere to Philadelphia. Dat whe' she livin now, so my Sammie tell me."
"Den dere another one of my chillun dat I say, I don' never 'spect to see no more on dis side of de world. Evelina, she get married en go way out west to live. She de one what used to nurse Lala up dere to Miss Owens' house. My God, honey, she been crazy bout Lala. Don' care what she been buy on a Saturday evenin, she would save some of it till Monday to carry to dat child. My Evelina, she always would eat en she used to bring Lala here wid her a heap of times to get somethin to eat. She would come in en fetch her dat tin plate up dere full of corn bread en molasses en den she would go to puttin dem ration way. Would put her own mouth full en den she would cram some of it down Lala's mouth in de child's belly. You see, I always would keep a nice kind of syrup in de safe cause I don' like none dese kind of syrup much, but dis here ribbon cane syrup. My Lord, dat child would stand up dere en eat just as long as Evelina poke it down her. Oh, Lala been just a little thing plunderin bout en I tell Evelina dat she ought not to feed dat child dem coarse ration, but she say, 'Lala want some en I gwine give it to her cause I loves her.' No, child, Miss Owens never didn' worry her mind bout whe' Evelina been carry dat child. You see, she been put trust in Evelina."
"I don' know what to tell you, honey. I bout like Miss Betty now. My 'membrance short dese days. Oh, I hear talk bout all kind of signs de people used to worry over en some of dem still frets bout dem, too. Hear talk dat you mustn't wash none on de New Years' Day. It bad luck, so a heap of dem say. Den some folks say it a sign of death to hear a owl holler at night. Some people can' bear to hear dem, but don' no owls worry me, I say. Lord, Maggie, dis child ax me how a owl holler when it a sign of death. Well, dey does holler a right good space apart. Don' holler right regular. I ain' hear one holler now in a long time, but I used to hear dem be hollerin plenty times out dere somewhe' another in dem trees. Say, when some people been hear dem holler on a night, dey would stick a fire iron in de fire en dat would make de owl quit off. I hear talk bout a lot of people would do dat. Den dere another sign de people does have bout de New Years' Day. Reckon dat what dey call it, I don' know. No, mam, I don' understand nothin bout it, but I does hear people speak bout dey craves to get a cup of peas en a hunk of hog jowl on de first day of de year. Say, dem what put faith in dem kind of victuals on de New Years' Day, dey won' suffer for nothin no time all de next year. Cose I don' know, but I say dat I eats it cause I loves it."
"Well, child, dat bout all I know to speak bout dis evenin. It gettin so cold, I don' know whe' I can manage here much longer or no. Cose my Sammie, he want me to go stay dere wid him, but I can' stand no chillun fuss round me no more. I tell him dese people bout here be in en out to ax bout me right smart en I think bout I better stay here whe' dere ain' nobody to mind what I do. You see, honey, old people is troublesome en I don' want to be noways burdensome to nobody. Yes, mam, I gwine be right here waitin, if de Lord say so, de next time I see you makin up dat path."
_Source_: Mom Jessie Sparrow, age 83, colored, Marion, S.C. Personal interview by Annie R. Davis, Dec., 1937.
=Code No.= =Project, 1885-(1)= =Prepared by Annie Ruth Davis= =Place, Marion, S.C.= =Date, October 11, 1937=
=MOM JESSIE SPARROW=
=Ex-Slave, 83 Years=
"Good morning, honey, I ain' much today. How you is? No, I can' talk nothin bout dem times today. Ain' know no more den I done tell you. I doin very well considerin I can' get bout like I wants to. Doin very well, honey. Peoples mighty nice to me, white en black. Cose I don' venture to get far off de lot, I be so poorly dese days. Ain' been bout up town dere in a month since Saturday."
"Well, my chillun say for me to go live wid dem, but I don' want to go down to dat other far end of de town. I tell dem dey worry me so dat I think I rather be here in dis piece of house. See, I has such good neighbors bout me here en dere be so much a fightin en gwine on in dat other end of town. All de peoples speaks well of me, both white en black, of dem dat knows me. Yes, mam, Miss Ellen tell me fore she die for me to stay right here in dis house long as I live en ain' nobody is gwine worry me neither. No, child, Miss Mary Watson don' worry me, not one speck bout dis house. Miss Mary de only child dat Miss Ellen got left here. No, honey, I ain' studyin bout gwine nowhe' yet. Cose de house may fall down on me cause dat dere old kitchen over dere was good when I come here, but it rot down. Dat how-come I ain' got no stove. De kitchen rot down en de rain come in on de stove en rust it out. No, dey don' worry me none. I tell dem I ain' got nothin, but I settin here just as satisfied like. Cose I may get a little pension soon, but don' know when it gwine get here. I ain' hear tell of nobody gettin it yet. I tell lady dat come here if I get it, it be all right en if I don' get it, dat be all right too."
"Big sale on today, ain' dere, child? I hear talk bout dey gwine sell all de Witcover property en all dat, but I don' know. Dey sho got a pretty day for it. I had on my old thick sweater, but it too hot. I had to pull it off en put on dis here thin jacket. Can' go bout too naked, honey."
"Yes'um, I know it was you come here de other night. Cose I can' see so good, but I can hear de people voice en tell who dere time I hear dem comin up dat path. You see, I don' light my lamp first night nohow, dere be so much grass round here de mosquitoes comes in en worries me right smart."
"Miss Foxworth en dem fixin to plant dey turnips over dere. Miss Foxworth, I likes her very well to speak. She good-hearted, kind en clever. She comes over en talks wid me often cause us been friends ever since fore de old man been gone. Dey ain' got no kind of garden yet, but dey fixin to plant a fall garden out dere."
"No, child, I done put Miss Betty clothes down. Tell her I ain' able to wash no more en my Lord, Miss Betty sho hate to hear me say dat. Won' dat Miss Betty clothes was so hard, but it was de totin dem back en forth en den dere be so little bit of money in dem, didn' pay to hire nobody to carry dem. Cose she didn' pay me nothin worth much cause she didn' never have nothin much, but a little changin of underclothes en bout one dress. Just had to starch bout one petticoat en one dress, but I can' hardly wash for myself dese days en I wouldn' never venture to do hers no more. No, honey, my conscience wouldn' allow me to overpower Miss Betty for dem little bit of somethin en dey ain' dirty neither. You see, since Miss Emma been stayin dere, she in charge de house en uses all her tablecloths en such as dat. Miss Emma, she mighty nice to me. Every time I go up dere en I ain' been doin nothin for her neither, she see can she find a cup of fresh milk or somethin another to hand me."
"Reckon I gwine be lonesome right bout dis side next week cause all de colored schools gwine be open up Monday. You see, dere be so many school chillun en teacher livin on dis here street. Dat child over dere say she gwine be home right sharp after she be finish pickin cotton next week. I say I ain' be obliged to leave dis country cause my white folks wouldn' never venture to come dere to dat other end of town to see me. All dese chillun bout here mighty good to me. Don' never let me suffer for nothin. Dey caution me not to risk to cook nothin over dat fireplace cause dey say I might tumble over en can' catch myself. No, dey tell me don' do no cookin, I might fall in en burn up. No, child, I ain' chance to cook none on dat fireplace since I been sick. Different ones brings me somethin dis day en dat day. Don' suspicion nothin bout it till I see dem comin. Celeste over dere brings me breakfast en dinner every day en I don' never bother wid no supper cause I lays down too early. Den dey keeps me in plenty bread en rolls en I keeps a little syrup on hand en eats dat if I gets hungry. Dere Marguerite all de time bringin me somethin, if it ain' nothin but a pitcher of ice. You see, dey makes dey ice en it ain' costin her nothin. When I see her turn out dat piazza, I know she comin here. I ain' see her today, but I lookin for her. Used to wash for dem too. Honey, I done a lot of work bout dis town en I don' suffer for nothin. All de people bout here be good to me."
"No, mam, I ain' gwine let you take no more pictures. Ain' gwine take no more. If Miss Montgomery say she comin here to take more pictures, tell her I ain' gwine take no more. No, child, I ain' studyin bout no pictures. I don' want no more. I got one big one up dere on de wall dat show me en my mammy en my son, Sammie, settin in a automobile. Dat my picture settin up dere wid de white blouse on. I tell dem I look like somethin den, but I too old en broke up now. My daughter, she want a picture en she kept on after us till we went up dere to whe' de carnival was. Carnival man had a automobile dat he take your picture in en we get in en set down en he snap de picture. I tell dem dey got one now en dat ought to be sufficient. Dat my mammy settin dere by me. She was sho a fine lookin woman. Lord, Lord, honey, dem chillun love dem pictures, but I ain' studyin bout wantin my picture scatter all bout de country."
"Yes, child, I sleeps all right. Go to bed early too fore anybody else round here do. Yes, mam, I goes to bed early en don' never get up none till I see day shine in dem cracks. I was figurin somebody else ax me dat de other day. Believe it was Dr. Dibble. My Sammie, he a mammy child. He never stop till he send de doctor here to see could he find out de ailment dat seem like was eatin me way. Dr. Dibble come here en set down in dat chair en ax me a heap of questions. Den he test my blood en give me a tonic dat he say would hope me. Yes, mam, dat my Sammie doctor en he goes to see him often, he does have such a misery in his head. Dat de first time Dr. Dibble ever been here, but I likes he manner mighty well. Dr. Zack was a good doctor too. Cose dat what dey tell me, but I ain' know nothin bout it. No, child, I been healthy all my days en I ain' had to worry bout no doctor. I tells dem when I falls down, I won' last long cause I been hearty all my days."
"Your sister still in Dr. Dibble store (office), ain' she? Is she got a cook yet? Dat it, I glad she got somebody to depend on cause dese young people, can' tell bout dem. Dey be one place today en den dey apt to be another place de next day. I used to cook dere to lady house cross de street, but I never didn' cook no Sunday dinner dere. Dat lady been take in sewin en she would sew en press right on de big Sunday. I tell her dat a sin en she say she had to get finish somehow dat de folks was pushin her for dey clothes. I say, 'Well, dat you, ain' me.' I go dere on Sunday mornin en cook breakfast en clean up en put wood in de kitchen. Den I would go to church en left dem to cook what dinner dey get. Dat de reason I won' cook for none dese white folks dis day en time cause when dey pays you dat little bit of money, dey wants every bit your time. I been proud when dat lady move from here cause I was tired walkin de road back en forth. People come here en beg me to cook for dem, but I tell dem I gwine stay right here en do my bit of washin. Gwine get along somehow wid it."
"Bethel, down dere on de other side de jail, de only church I ever been a member of. We got to fix us church twixt now en next year. It need fixin bad. You see, it right on de Main street gwine down en does be right public out to de people. I was fixin to go to church Sunday gone, but my child never come after me. My son, Sammie, never show up, but he come Sunday evenin laughin. Say, 'Ma, I know if I come by your house, you would want to go wid me.' No, I ain' been so I able to go in four Sundays."
"Child, you ought to had brought your parasol wid you cause you been settin here so long, you gwine be late gettin whe' you started. Dis here another hot day we got come here."
"Well, good-day, child. Speak bout how you is find Maggie Black to me when you pass back long dat street dere."
_Source_: Mom Jessie Sparrow, ex-slave, 83 years, Marion, S.C. Personal interview by Annie Ruth Davis, October, 1937.
=Project #1655= =W.W. Dixon= =Winnsboro, S.C.=
=ROSA STARKE= =_EX-SLAVE 83 YEARS OLD._=
Rosa's grandfather was a slave of Solicitor Starke. Although she has had two husbands since slavery, she has thrown their names into the discard and goes by the name of Rosa Starke. She lives in a three-room frame house with her son, John Harrison, two miles south of Winnsboro, S.C., on the plantation of Mrs. Rebecca V. Woodward. She still does farm work, hoeing and picking cotton.
"They say I was six years old when de war commence poppin' in Charleston. Mammy and pappy say dat I was born on de Graham place, one of de nineteen plantations of my old marster, Nick Peay, in 1854. My pappy was name Bob and my mammy name Salina. They had b'longed to old Marse Tom Starke befo' old Marse Nick bought them. My brudders was name Bob and John. I had a sister name Carrie. They was all older than me.
"My marster, Nick Peay, had nineteen places, wid a overseer and slave quarters on every place. Folks dat knows will tell you, dis day, dat them nineteen plantations, in all, was twenty-seven thousand acres. He had a thousand slaves, more or less, too many to take a census of. Befo' de numerator git 'round, some more would be born or bought, and de nominator had to be sent 'round by Marse Nick, so old Miss Martha, our mistress, say. Her never could know just how many 'twas. Folks used to come to see her and ask how many they had and her say it was one of them sums in de 'rithmetic dat a body never could take a slate and pencil and find out de correct answer to.