George G King
From:
Oklahoma
Oklahoma Writers' Project
Ex-Slaves
"UNCLE" GEORGE G. KING
Age 83 yrs
Tulsa, Oklahoma
"Prayers for sale.... Prayers for sale...." Uncle George chants in
sing-song fashion as he roams around Tulsa's Greenwood Negro
district--pockets filled with prayer papers that are soiled and dirty
with constant handling.
But they are potent, Uncle George tells those who fear the coming of
some trouble, disaster or just ordinary misery, and there's a special
prayer for each and every trouble--including one to keep away the bill
collector when the young folks forget to make payments on the radio,
the furniture, the car, or the Spring outfit purchased months ago from
the credit clothier.
Its all in the Bible and the Bible is his workshop--'cause folks don't
know how to pray.
He's mighty old, is Uncle George King, and he'll tell you that he was
born on two-hundred acres of Hell, but the whitefolks called it Samuel
Roll's plantation (six miles N.E. of Lexington, South Carolina).
Kinder small for a plantation, Uncle George explains, but plenty room
for that devil overseer to lay on the lash, and plenty room for the
old she-devil Mistress to whip his mammy til' she was just a piece of
living raw meat!
The old Master talked hard words, but the Mistress whipped. Lot's of
difference, and Uncle George ought to know, 'cause he's felt the lash
layed on pretty heavy when he was no older than kindergarten children
of today.
The Mistress owned the slaves and they couldn't be sold without her
say-so. That's the reason George was never sold, but the Master once
tried to sell him 'cause the beatings was breaking him down. Old
Mistress said "No", and used it for an excuse to whip his Mammy. Uncle
George remembers that, too.
They crossed her wrists and tied them with a stout cord. They made her
bend over so that her arms was sticking back between her legs and
fastened the arms with a stick so's she couldn't straighten up.
He saw the Mistress pull his Mammy's clothes over her head so's the
lash would reach the skin. He saw the overseer lay on the whip with
hide busting blows that left her laying, all a shiver, on the ground,
like a wounded animal dying from the chase.
He saw the Mistress walk away, laughing, while his Mammy screamed and
groaned--the old Master standing there looking sad and wretched, like
he could feel the blows on Mammy's bared back and legs as much as she.
The Mistress was a great believer in the power of punishment, and
Uncle George remembers the old log cabin jail built before the War,
right on the plantation, where runaway slaves were stowed away 'till
they would promise to behave themselves.
The old jail was full up during most of the War. Three runaway slaves
were still chained to its floor when the Master gave word the Negroes
were free.
They were Prince, Sanovey (his wife), and Henry, who were caught and
whipped by the patrollers, and then brought back to the plantation for
another beating before being locked in jail.
The Mistress ordered them chained, and the overseer would come every
morning with the same question: "Will you niggers promise not to
runaway no more?"
But they wouldn't promise. One at a time the overseer would loosen the
chains, and lead them from the jail to cut them with powerful blows
from the lash, then drag them back to be chained until the next day
when more lickings were given 'cause they wouldn't promise.
The jail was emptied on the day Master Roll called together all the
men, women and children to tell them they wasn't slaves no more. Uncle
George tells it this way:
"The Master he says we are all free, but it don't mean we is white.
And it don't mean we is equal. Just equal for to work and earn our own
living and not depend on him for no more meats and clother." [TR: clothes?]
Food was scarce before the War; it was worse after the shooting and
killing was over, and Uncle George says: "There wasn't no corn bread,
no bacon--just trash eating trash, like when General Sherman marched
down through the country taking everything the soldiers could lug
away, and burning all along the way.
"Wasn't nothing to eat after he march by. Darkies search 'round the
barns, maybe find some grains of corn in the manure, and they'd parch
the grains--nothing else to eat, except sometimes at night Mammy would
skit out and steal scraps from the Master's house for the children.
"She had lots of hungry mouths, too. They was seven of us then, six
boys and a girl, Eliza. The boys was Wesley, Simeon, Moses, Peter,
William and me, George. This pappy's name was Griffin.
"But they was other pappys (Mammy told him) when Eva was born long
before any of us, and Laura come next, but from a white daddy. Mammy
lost them when she was sold around on the markets.
"The Klan they done lots of riding round the country. One night the
come down to the old slave quarters where the cabins is all squared
round each other, and called everybody outdoors. They's looking for
two women.
"They picks 'em out of the crowd right quick and say they been with
white men. Says their children is by white men, and they're going to
get whipped so's they'll remember to stay with their own kind. The
women kick and scream, but the mens grab them and roll them over a
barrel and let fly with the whip."
It was a long time after the Civil War that Uncle George got his first
schooling or attended regular church meetings. Like he says:
"Getting up at four o'clock in the morning, hoeing in the fields all
day, doing chores when they come in from the fields, and then piddling
with the weaver 'til nine or ten every night--it just didn't leave no
time for reading and such, even if we was allowed to."
And religion, that came later too, for during the old plantation days
Uncle George's white folks didn't think a Negro needed religion--there
wasn't a Heaven for Negroes anyhow.
Finally, though, the Master gave them right to hold meetings on the
plantation, and old Peter Coon was the preacher. The overseer was
there with guards to keep the Negroes from getting too much riled up
when old Peter started talking about Paul or some of the things in the
Old Testament. That's all he would talk about; nothing 'bout Jesus,
just Paul and the Old Testament.
His Mammy went to every meeting. Like he says: "She knew them good
things was good for her children and she told us about the Bible."
Like his old Mammy, Uncle George is a firm believer in the power of
the word. "Prayers are saving!" Uncle George says, "But they's lots of
folks' don't know how to pray."
That's why he has prayers for sale--and he knows they are never
failing, "If you tack 'em up on the wall and say 'em over and over
every day they's sure to be answered."
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Martha King
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Josie Jordan
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