“I don’t remember the names of my grandfather and grandmother, ’cause we was crossed up, you see, One of my grandmothers was named Crecie and the other was named Lydia.  I don’t remember my grandfather’s name.  I spect I used to call ’im master.  I used to remember them but I don’t no more.  Nobody can’t worry me ’bout them old folks now.  They ast me all them questions at the Welfare.  They want to know your gran’pa and your gran’ma.  Who were they, what did they do, where did they live, where are they now?  I don’t know what they did.  That’s too far back for me.

“My mother and father had nine children.  I have only one sister living.  All the others done gone to heaven but me and her.

“My mother and father lived in a log cabin.  They had one-legged beds nailed to the wall.  They had benches and boxes and blocks and all sich as that for chairs.  My daddy made the table we used.  He made them one-legged beds too.  They kept the food in boxes and gourds.  They had these big gourds.  They could cut holes in the top of them and put things in them.  My mammy had a lot of ’em and they were nice and clean too.  Wisht I had one of them now.

“Some folks didn’t have that good.  We had trundle beds for the children that would run under the big bed when they wasn’t sleeping in it.  We made a straw mattress.  You know the white folks weren’t goin’ to let ’em use cotton, and they didn’t have no chickens to git feathers from; so they had to use straw.  Oh, they had a hard time I’m tellin’ you.  My mother pulled greens out of the garden and field, and cured it up for the mattress.

“For rations, we’d eat onions and vegetables.  We et what was raised.  You know they didn’t have nothin’ then ’cept what they raised.  All the cookin’ was done at one house, but there was two cooks, one for the colored folks and one for the white folks.  My grandma cooked for the white people.  They cooked in those big old washpots for the colored people.  We all thought we had a pretty good master.

“We didn’t know nothin’ about a master.

“I ain’t positive what time the hands ate breakfast.  I know they et it and I know they et at the same time and place.  I think they et after sunrise.  They didn’t have to eat before sunrise.

“When they fed the children, they cook the food and put it in a great big old tray concern and called up the children, ’Piggee-e-e-e-e, piggee-e-e-e-e.’  My cousin was the one had to go out and call the children; and you could see them runnin’ up from every which way, little shirt tails flyin’ and hair sticking out.  Then they would pour the food out in different vessels till the children could git around them with those muscle-shell spoons.  Many of them as could get ’round a vessel would eat out of it and when they finished that one, they’d go to another one, and then to another one till they all got fed.

“My master worked seventy hands they said.  He had two colored overseers and one white one.  He didn’t allow them overseers to whip and slash them niggers.  They had to whip them right.  Didn’t allow no pateroles to bother them neither.  That’s a lot of help too.  ’Cause them pateroles would eat you up.  It was awful.  Niggers used to run away to keep from bein’ beat up.