What is called the Line of Marriage is that mark or marks, as the case may be, found on the side of the Mount under the fourth finger. I will first proceed to give all the details possible about these lines, and then call my reader's attentio... Read more of Signs Relating To Marriage at Palm Readings.orgInformational Site Network Informational
Privacy
  Home - Biography - I Have a Dream Speech - QuotesBlack History: Articles - Poems - Authors - Speeches - Folk Rhymes - Slavery Interviews

Bob Potter




From: Arkansas

Interviewer: Thomas Elmore Lacy
Person interviewed: Bob Potter, Russellville, Arkansas
Age: 65


"Sure, you oughter remember me--Bob Potter. Used to know you when you
was a boy passin' de house every day go in' down to de old Democrat
printin' office. Knowed yo' brother and all yo' folks. Knowed yo' pappy
mighty well. Is yo' ma and pa livin' now? No suh, I reckin not.

"I was born de seventeenth of September, 1873 right here in
Russellville. Daddy's name was Dick, and mudder's was Ann Potter. Daddy
died before I was born, and I never seed him. Mudder's been dead about
eighteen years. Dey master was named Hale, and he lived up around Dover
somewheres on his farm, but I dunno how dey come by de name Potter.
Well, now, lemme see--oh, yes, dey was freed at Dover after dey come
dere from North Ca'liny. I think my ma was born in West Virginia, and
den dey went to North Ca'liny and den to South Ca'liny, and den come to
Arkansas.

"I raised seven boys and lost five chillen. Dere was three girls and
nine boys. All dat's livin' is here except one in Fresno, California. My
old woman here, she tells fortunes for de white folks and belongs to de
Holiness church but I don't belong to none; I let her look after de
religion for de fambly." (Interjection from Mrs. Potter: "Yes suh, you
bet I belongs to de Holiness chu'ch. You got to walk in de light to be
saved, and if you do walk in de light you can't sin. I been saved for a
good many yeahs and am goin' on in de faith. Praise de Lawd!")

"My mudder was sold once for a hundud dollahs and once ag'in for
thirty-eight hundud dollahs. Perhaps dis was jist before dey left West
Virginia and was shipped to North Ca'liny. De master put her upon a box,
she said, made her jump up and pop her heels together three times and
den turn around and pop her heels again to show how strong she was. She
sure was strong and a hard worker. She could cut wood, tote logs, plow,
hoe cotton, and do ever'thing on de place, and lived to be about
ninety-five yeahs old. Yas suh, she was as old or older dan Aunt Joan is
when she died.

"No suh, I used to vote but I quit votin', for votin' never did git me
nothin'; I quit two yeahs ago. You see, my politics didn't suit em.
Maybe I shouldn't be tellin' you but I was a Socialist, and I was
runnin' a mine and wo'kin' fifteen men, and dey was all Socialists, and
de Republicans and Democrats sure put me out of business--dey put me to
de bad.

"Dat was about twelve yeahs ago when I run de mine. I been tryin' to git
me a pension but maybe dat's one reason I can't git it. Oh yes, I owns
my home--dat is, I did own it, but----

"Oh Lawd, yes, I knows a lot of dem old songs like 'Let Our Light
Shine,' and 'De Good Old Gospel Way,' and 'Hark From de Tomb.' Listen,
you oughter hear Elder Beam sing dat one. He's de pastor of de Baptis'
Chu'ch at Fort Smith. He can sure make it ring!

"De young folks of today compa'ed to dem when we was boys? Huh! You jist
can't compaih em--can't be done. Why, a fo'-yeah-old young'un knows mo'
today dan our grandmammies knowed. And in dem days de boys and gals
could go out and play and swing togedder and behave deyselves. We went
in our shu'ttails and hit was all right; we had two shu'ts to weah--one
for every day and one for Sunday--and went in our shu'ttails both every
day and Sunday and was respected. And if you didn't behave you sure got
whupped. Dey didn't put dey arms around you and hug you and den put you
off to sleep. Dey whupped you, and it was real whuppin'.

"Used to hear my mudder talk about de Ku Klux Klan puttin' cotton
between her toes and whuppin' her, and dat's de way dey done us
young'uns when we didn't behave. And we used to have manners den, both
whites and blacks. I wish times was like dem days, but dey's gone.

"Yes, we used to have our tasks to do befo' goin' to bed. We'd have a
little basket of cotton and had to pick de seeds all out of dat cotton
befo' we went to bed. And we could all ca'd and spin--yes suh--make dat
old spinnin' wheel go Z-z-z-z as you walked back and fo'f a-drawin' out
de spool of ya'n. And you could weave cloth and make all yo' own
britches, too. (Here his wife interpolated a homely illustration of the
movement of "de shettle" in the loom weaving--ed.)

"Yes, I mind my mudder tellin' many a time about dem Klan-men, and how
dey whupped white women to make em give up de money dey had hid, and how
dey used to burn dey feet. Yes suh, ain't no times like dem old days,
and I wish we had times like em now. Yes suh, I'll sure come to see you
in town one of dese days. Good mornin'."


NOTE: Bob Potter is a most interesting Negro character--one of the most
genial personalities of the Old South that the interviewer has met
anywhere. His humor is infectious, his voice boisterous, but delightful,
and his uproarious laugh just such as one delights to listen to. And his
narrations seem to ring with veracity.




Next: Louise Prayer

Previous: William Porter



Add to Informational Site Network
Report
Privacy
ADD TO EBOOK