Interviewer’s Comment

William Dunwoody had some of his dates and occurrences mixed up as would be natural for a man ninety-eight years old.  But there was one respect in which he was sharper than anyone else interviewed.

At the close of the first day’s interview when I arose to go he said to me, “Now you got what you want?” I told him yes and that I would be back for more the next day.  Then he said, “Well, if you got what you want, there’s one thing I want you to do for me before you go.”

“Certainly, Brother Dunwoody,” I said, “I’ll be glad to do anything you want me to do.  Just what can I do for you?”

“Well,” he said, “I want you to read me what you been writin’ there.”

And I read it.

A little grandchild about four years old kept us company while he dictated to me.  I furnished pennies for the child’s candy and a nickel for the old man’s tobacco.

The old man got a kick out of the dictation.  After the first day, he became very cautious.  He would say, “Now don’t write this,” and he wouldn’t let me take it down the way he said it.  Instead, he would make a long statement and then we would work out the gist of it together.  He is not highly schooled, and he is not especially prepossessing in appearance; but he is a long way from decrepit—­mentally.

He walks with a crutch and has a defect in the sight of one eye.  He has good hearing and talks in a pleasant voice.

Interviewer:  Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed:  Lucius Edwards
Age:  72

Interviewer’s Comment

I went to see Lucius Edwards, age seventy-two, twice.  He has colitis.  He wouldn’t tell me anything.  He said he was born in Shreveport, Louisiana and his father took him away so young he knew no mother; his aunt raised him.  The first day he said he remembered all that about his parents’ owners.  The next day the nurse had him cleaned up and nice meals were sent in and still he wouldn’t tell us anything.  He told the nurse he had farmed and worked on the railroad all his life.  He was up but wouldn’t tell us anything.  He told me, “I don’t think I ever voted.”  We decided he might be afraid he’d twist his tales and we’d catch him some way.

Interviewer:  Mary D. Hudgins
Person Interviewed:  John Elliott
Age:  80
Home:  South Border (property of brother’s estate)

As told by:  John Elliott

“No, ma’am.  I ain’t got no folks.  They’ve all died out.  My son, he may be alive.  When I last heard from him, he was in Pine Bluff.  But I wrote down lots of times and nobody can’t find him.  Brother said, that was before he died, that I could stay on in the place as long as I lived.  His wife come to see me some years back and she said it was that way.

The comodity gives me milk, and a little beside.  I’m expectin’ to hear if I get the pension, Tuesday.  No ma’am, I ain’t worked in three years.  Yes, ma’am, I was a slave.  I was about 8 years old when they mustered ’em out the last time.