is sons wasn't
old enough to go to war. Pa seemed to like ole master. The overseer was
white looking like the master but I don't know if he was white man or
nigger. Ole master wouldn't let him whoop much as he pleased. Master
held him off on whooping.

"When the master come to the quarters us children line up and sit and
look at him. When he'd go on off we'd hike out and play. He didn't care
if we look at him.

"My pa was light about my color. Ma was dark. I heard them say she was
part Creek (Indian).

"Folks was modester before the children than they are now. The children
was sent to play or git a bucket cool water from the spring. Everything
we said wasn't smart like what children say now. We was seen and not
heard. Not seen too much or somebody be stepping 'side to pick up a
brush to nettle our legs. Then we'd run and holler both.

"Now and then a book come about and it was hid. Better not be caught
looking at books.

"Times wasn't bad 'ceptin' them speculator droves and way they got
worked too hard and frailed. Some folks was treated very good, some
killed.

"Folks getting mean now. They living in hopes and lazing about. They
work some."

Interviewer: Bernice Bowden
Person Interviewed: Zenie Cauley
1000 Louisiana
Pine Bluff, Ark.
Age: 78
[-- 7 1938]

"I member when they freed the people.

"I was born in Bedie Kellog's yard and I know she said, 'Zenie, I hate
to give you up, I'd like to keep you.' But my mother said, 'No, ma'am, I
can't give Zenie up.'

"We still stayed there on the place and I was settled and growed up when
I left there.

"I'm old. I feels my age too. I may not look old but I feels it.

"Yes ma'am, I member when they carried us to church under bresh arbors.
Old folks had rags on their hair. Yes'm, I been here.

"My father was a Missionary Baptist preacher and he _was_ a preacher.
Didn't know 'A' from 'B' but he was a preacher. Everbody knowed Jake
Alsbrooks. He preached all over that country of North Carolina. They'd
be as many white folks as colored. They'd give him _money_ and he never
called for a collection in his life. Why one Sunday they give him
sixty-five dollars to help buy a horse.

"Fore I left the old county, I member the boss man, Henry Grady, come by
and tell my mother, 'I'm gwine to town now, have my dinner ready when I
come back--kill a chicken.' She was one of the cooks. Used to have us
chillun pick dewberries an