assa Tom got kilt, and de
orders wuz not to take no bodies off de field right den.

Course ole massa down near Wilmington, doan know 'bout young Massa Tom,
but one night dey hears Jim holler at de gate. Dey goes runnin' out; an'
Jim has brung Massa Tom's body all dat long ways home so dat he can be
buried in de family burian ground.

De massa frees Jim dat night; but he stays on a time atter de war, an'
tell de day he died he hated de Yankees for killing Massa Tom. In fact
we all hated de Yankees, 'specially atter we hear 'bout starve dat first
winter. I tried ter make a libin' fer me an' Johnnie but it was bad
goin'; den I comes ter Raleigh an' I gits 'long better. Atter I gits
settled I brings Johnnie, an' so we done putty good.

Dat's all I can tell yo' now Miss, but if'n yo'll come back sometime
I'll tell yo' de rest of de tales.

Shortly after the above interview Uncle Dave who was failing fast was
taken to the County Home, where he died. He was buried on May 4th, 1937,
the rest of the tale remaining untold.

N. C. District: No. 2 [320185]
Worker: Mary A. Hicks
No. Words: 459
Subject: Ex-Slave Story
Person Interviewed: Clay Bobbit
Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[TR: Date Stamp "JUN 17 1937"]

EX-SLAVE STORY

An interview with Clay Bobbit, 100 of S. Harrington Street, Raleigh,
N. C., May 27, 1937.

I wuz borned May 2, 1837 in Warren County to Washington an' Delisia
Bobbit. Our Marster wuz named Richard Bobbit, but we all calls him Massa
Dick.

Massa Dick ain't good ter us, an' on my arm hyar, jist above de elbow
am a big scar dis day whar he whupped me wid a cowhide. He ain't whupped
me fer nothin' 'cept dat I is a nigger. I had a whole heap of dem
whuppin's, mostly case I won't obey his orders an' I'se seed slaves beat
'most ter deff.

I wuz married onct 'fore de war by de broom stick ceremony, lak all de
rest of de slaves wuz but shucks dey sold away my wife 'fore we'd been
married a year an' den de war come on.

I had one brother, Henry who am wuckin' fer de city, an' one sister
what wuz named Deliah. She been daid dese many years now.

Massa Dick owned a powerful big plantation an' ober a hundert slaves,
an' we wucked on short rations an' went nigh naked. We ain't gone
swimmin' ner huntin' ner nothin' an' we ain't had no pleasures 'less we
runs away ter habe 'em. Eben when we sings we had ter turn down a pot in
front of de do'