e marster a
pas' 'fore dey could visit dere own people on de uther plantations.
Ef'n you had no pass you would git in trouble ef caught wid out one
which allus ment a good whuppin' w'en dey returned. At dat time menny
slaves would run 'way en hide in caves en menny ob dem would go by de
"ondergroun' railroad" ter Canada whar slavery wuz not recognized."
(The underground railroad consisted of hiding places throughout the
states to Canada and the slaves would make the trip under cover from
station to station.)

"De slaves would slip out at nite ter private meetin's en turn a pot
bottom up on de groun' en leave a little hole under hit so de sound ob
dere talkin' would go onder de pot en no one would 'year whut dey wuz
talkin' 'bout."

"De ex-slaves ob de better class did vote en de white peeple stuck wid
de good cul'ed folks. I don' member now 'bout de Nat Turner
'Bellion."

"Atter freedum de slaves wuz 'lowed ter stay on de plantation en
'lowed ter farm en gib half dey made. Atter slavery I useter wuk fer
fifty cents en git a peck ob meal, three pounds ob bacon en a quart ob
syrup which would las' a week."

"De Ku Klux Klan's plan wuz ter whup all white er cul'ed people dat
didn't stay at home en support dere families but would run 'roun en
live a bad life. W'en de Klan would be passin' through de slaves would
call dem ghostus."

"One nite mah br'er en me wuz sleepin' in de dining room. Sumpin woke
us an we seed sumpin' dat kum through de yard en got hold ob sum
blocks. Dat thing didn't hab no haid en didn't hab no tale en looked
lak hit wuz backin' up on all four legs. Nex mawnin' we could fin' no
tracks ob whuteber hit wuz en de gate wuz also fasened."

"Dis young peoples 'cordin' ter de Bible ez on de broad road ter ruin.
Dey think dey ez as good as de white people but dey ez classed as
niggahs in mah eyes."

"Caint member any ob de ole songs now."

SUBJECT--EX-SLAVE STORIES

Andrew Moss
#88 Auburn Streets
Knoxville, Tennessee

"One ting dat's all wrong wid dis world today," according to Andrew
Moss, aged negro, as he sits through the winter days before an open
grate fire in his cabin, with his long, lean fingers clasped over his
crossed knees, "is dat dey ain no 'prayer grounds'. Down in Georgia
whar I was born,--dat was 'way back in 1852,--us colored folks had
prayer grounds. My Mammy's was a ole twisted thick-rooted muscadine
bush. She'd go in dar and pray for deliverance of de slaves. Some