Three children were born to them and I was
the youngest; there was a girl and another boy.

I know little of my father's people, excepting that he repeatedly told
me that they came from South Carolina. So it is, that while I can trace
my ancestry back to my great-grandparents on my mother's side, I can
learn nothing beyond my grandparents on my father's side. My grandfather
was a local preacher and could read quite well. Just how he obtained
this knowledge, I have never been able to learn. He had the confidence
and respect of the best white and colored people in the community and
sometimes he would journey eight or ten miles to preach. Many times at
these meetings there were nearly as many whites as colored people in the
audience. He was indeed a grand old man. His name was James and his
father's name was Michael. So after freedom he took the name of James
Carmichael.

One of the saddest things about slavery was the separation of families.
Very often I come across men who tell me that they were sold from
Virginia, South Carolina or North Carolina, and that they had large
families in those states. Since their emancipation, many of these have
returned to their former states in search of their families, and while
some have succeeded in finding them, there are those who have not been
able to find any trace of their families and have come back again to
die.

Sometimes we hear people attempt to apologize for slavery, but slavery
at its best was hard and cruel. Often the old slaves tell me of their
bitter experience. Even today, there are everywhere in the South many
ex-slaves who lived their best days before and during the civil war.
Many of these men and women found themselves alone at the close of the
war, having been sold away from their families while they were slaves.

I was born at Snow Hill, Wilcox County, Alabama, September 12th, 1869,
three-quarters of a mile east of where Snow Hill Institute now stands.
My mother died September 9th, 1870, at which time I lacked three days of
being one year old. From all I can learn my mother was very religious.
She was a great praying woman and almost at every meeting held in the
neighborhood she would be called upon to pray. In fact, she was sent for
miles around to pray at these meetings. My mother's death left my father
with three children, I being the youngest. He succeeded in getting his
mother, who was cooking for her white people in Selma, Alabama, to come
and take us in