“The times is hard fo old folks cause they ain’t able to work and heap ob time they ain’t no work fo em to do.

“Noom I lived at Bells, Arkansas for I come to Hickory Plains and Des Arc.  I don’t know no kin but my mother.  She died durin the war.  Noom not all de white folks good to the niggers.  Some mean.  They whoop em.  Some white folks good.  Jes lak de niggers, deres some ob em mighty good and some ob em mean.

“I works when I can get a little to do and de relief gives me a little.

“I am er hundred years old!  Cause I knows I is.  White folks all tell you I am.”

Interviewer:  Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed:  Katherine Clay, Forrest City, Arkansas
Age:  69

“I was born in West Point, Mississippi.  My folks’ owners was Master Harris and Liddie Harris.  My parent’s name was Sely Sikes.  She was mother of seven children.  Papa was name Owen Sikes.  He never was whooped.  They had different owners.  Both my grandparents was dead on both sides.  I never seen them.

“Mama said her owners wasn’t good.  Her riding boss put a scar on her back she took to her grave.  It was deep and a foot long.  He wanted to whoop her naked.  He had the colored men hold her and he whooped her.  She run off and when her owner come home she come to him at his house and told him all about it.  She had been in the woods about a week she reckon.  She had a baby she had left.  The old mistress done had it brought to her.  She was nursing it.  She had a sicking baby of her own.  She kept that baby.  Mama said her breast was way out and the doctor had to come wait on her; it nearly ruined.

“Mama said her master was so mad he cursed the overseer, paid him, and give him ten minutes to leave his place.  He left in a hurry.  That was her very first baby.  She was raising a family, so they put her a nurse at the house.  She had been ploughing.  She had big fine children.  They was proud of them.  She raised a big family.  She took care of all her and Miss Liddie’s babies and washed their hippins.  Never no soap went on them she said reason she had that to do.  Another woman cooked and another woman washed.

“Mama said she was sold once, away from her mother but they let her have her four children.  She grieved for her old mama, ’fraid she would have a hard time.  She sold for one thousand dollars.  She said that was half price but freedom was coming on.  She never laid eyes on her mama ag’in.

“After freedom they had gone to another place and the man owned the place run the Ku Klux off.  They come there and he told them to go on away, if he need them he would call them back out there.  They never came back, she said.  They was scared to death of the Ku Klux.  At the place where they was freed all the farm bells rung slow for freedom.  That was for miles about.  Their master told them up at his house.  He said it was sad thing, no time for happiness, they hadn’t ’sperienced it.  But for them to come back he would divide long as what he had lasted.  They didn’t go off right at first.  They was several years getting broke up.  Some went, some stayed, some actually moved back.  Like bees trying to find a setting place.  Seem like they couldn’t get to be satisfied even being free.