“The times is critical for old folks, wages low and everything is so high.  The young folks got heap better educations but seems like they can’t use it.  They don’t know how to any avantage.  I know they don’t have as good chances at farmin as de older folks had.  I don’t know why it is.  My son works up at the lumber yard.  Yes he owns this house.  That’s all he owns.  He make nough to get by on, I recken.  He works hard, yes maam.  He helps me if he can.  I get $4 a month janitor at the Farmers and Merchants Bank (Des Arc).  I works a little garden and cleans off yards.  No maam it hurts my rheumatism to run the yard mower.  I works when I sho can’t hardly go.  Nothin matter cept I’m bout wo out.  I plied for the old folks penshun but I ain’t got nuthin yet.  I signed up at the bank fur it agin not long ago.  I has been allus self sportin.  Didn’t pend on no livin soul but myself.”

Interviewer:  Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Person interviewed:  A.J.  Mitchell
                    419 E. 11th Avenue, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age:  78
Occupation:  Garbage hauler

“I was ’bout seven when they surrendered.  I can remember when my old master sold Aunt Susan.  She raised me.  I seen old master when he was tryin’ to whip old Aunt Susan.  She was the cook.  She said, ’I ain’t goin’ let you whip me’ and I heard my sister say next day he done sold Aunt Susan.  I ain’t seed her since.  I called her ma.  My mother died when I was two years old.  She was full Injun.  My father was black but his hair was straight.  His face was so black it shined.  Looked like it was greased.  My father said he was freeborn and I’ve seen stripes on his back look like the veins on back of my hand where they whipped him tryin’ to make him disown his freedom.

“Old Jack Clifton was my master.  Yes ma’m, that was his name.

“I ‘member when they had those old looms—­makin’ cloth and old shuttle to put the thread on.  I can see ’em now.

“I can ’member when this used to be a Injun place.  I’ve seen old Injun mounds.  White folks come and run ’em out and give ’em Injun Territory.

“I heered the guns in the war and seed the folks comin’ home when the war broke.  They said they was fitin’ ‘bout freedom, tryin’ to free the people.  I ‘member when they was fitin’ at Marks Mill.  I know some of the people said that was where they was sot free.

“I don’t know as I seed any Ku Klux when they was goin’ round.  Hearin’ ’bout ’em scared me.  I have a good recollection.  I can remember the first dream I ever had and the first time I whistled.  I can remember when I was two or three years old.  Remember when they had a big old conch shell.  Old master would blow it at twelve o’clock for ’em to come in.

“Old master was good to us but I ’member he had a leather strap and if we chillun had done anything he’d make us younguns put our head ’tween his legs and put that strap on us.  My goodness!  He called me Pat and called his own son Bug—­his own son Junie.  We played together.  Old master had nicknames for everybody.