[HW: Joseph E. Jaffee]
Joseph E. Jaffee
Asst. District Supervisor
Federal Writers' Project
W.P.A. District No. 1

JEJ:H

JOHN HILL
1525 Broad Street
Athens, Georgia

PLANTATION LIFE, AS VIEWED BY AN EX-SLAVE

Written By:
Grace McCune
Research Worker
Federal Writers' Project
Athens, Georgia

Edited By:
Leila Harris
Editor
Federal Writers' Project
Augusta, Georgia

JOHN HILL
Ex-Slave, Age 74
1525 W. Broad St.
Athens, Georgia

John Hill, an old Negro about 74 years old, was seated comfortably on
the front porch of his little cabin enjoying the sunshine. He lives
alone and his pleasure was evident at having company, and better still
an appreciative audience to whom he could relate the story of his early
days.

"My pa wuz George Washin'ton Hill. His old Marster wuz Mr. Aubie Hill,
an' dey all lived on de Hill Plantation, in de Buncombe district, nigh
whar Monroe, Georgia is now. My ma wuz Lucy Annie Carter, an' she
b'longed to de Carter fambly down in Oglethorpe County, 'til she wuz
sold on de block, on de ole Tuck plantation, whar dey had a regular
place to sell 'em. Dey put 'em up on a big old block, an' de highest
bidder got de Nigger. Marse George Hill bought my ma, an' she come to
stay on de Hill plantation. Dar's whar my pa married her, an' dar's whar
I wuz borned.

"When I wuz just a little tike, I toted nails for 'em to build de
jailhouse. Dey got 'bout two by four planks, nailed 'em crossways, an'
den dey drived nails in, 'bout evvy inch or two apart, just lak a
checkerboard. When dey got it done, dat jail would evermo' keep you on
de inside. Dere wuz a place wid a rope to let down, when de jailbirds
would need somethin', or when somebody wanted to send somethin' up to
'em. No Ma'am, dat warn't de rope dey used to hang folkses wid.

"My pa stayed on wid old Marster 'bout ten years atter de War, den us
moved to de farm wid de Walkers at Monroe, Georgia. Dat wuz Governor
Walker's pa. Dere wuz a red clay bank on de side of de crick whar us
chilluns had our swimmmin' hole, an' us didn't know when us wuz a
frolickin' an' rollin' young Marse Clifford down dat bank, dat someday
he would be gov'ner of Georgia. He evermo' wuz a sight, kivered wid all
dat red mud, an' Mist'ess, she would fuss an' say she wuz goin' to whup
evvyone of us, but us just stayed out of de way an' she never cotched
us. Den she would forgit 'til de nex' time.

"W