Name: Virgel, Emma

Address: 1491 W. Broad Street Athens, Georgia

Age: 73

Written by: Grace McCune (Athens)

Edited by: Sarah H. Hall (Athens) and John N. Booth (District Supervisor Federal Writers' Project Residencies 6 & 7 Augusta, Ga)

Citation: Federal Writers' Project: Slave Narrative Project, Vol. 4, Part 4, Telfair-Young (1936), Library of Congress, Manuscript/Mixed Material. http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.mss/mesn.044

Interview

Hurrying for shelter from a sudden shower, the interviewer heard a cheerful voice
singing "Lord I'se Comin' Home," as she rushed up the steps of Aunt Emma's small
cabin. Until the song was ended she quietly waited on the tiny porch and looked out over
the yard which was attractive with roses and other old-fashioned flowers; then she
knocked on the door.

Dragging footsteps and the tap, tap of a crutch sounded as Aunt Emma
approached the door. "Come in out of dat rain, chile, or you sho' will have de pneumony,"
she said. "Come right on in and set here by my fire. Fire feels mighty good today. I had to
build it to iron de white folkses clothes." Aunt Emma leaned heavily on her crutch as she
wielded the iron with a dexterity attainable only by long years of experience. Asked if her
lameness and use of a crutch made her work difficult, she grinned and answered: "Laway
chile, I'se jus' so used to it, I don't never think 'bout it no more. I'se had to wuk all of my
life, no matter what was in de way." The comfort, warmth and cheer of the small kitchen
encouraged intimate conversation and when Aunt Emma was asked for the story of her
childhood days and her recollections of slavery, she replied: "I was too little to 'member
much, but I'se heared my Ma tell 'bout dem days.

"My Pa and Ma was Louis and Mary Jackson. Dey b'longed to Marse John
Montgomery, way down in Ocones County. Marse John didn't have no wife den, 'cause
he didn't git married 'til atter de War. He had a big place wid lots of slaves. He was sho'
good to 'em, and let 'em have plenty of evvything. De slave quarters was log cabins wid
big fireplaces, whar dey done de cookin'. Dey had racks to hang pots on to bile and dey
baked in ovens set on de harth (hearth). Dat was powerful good eatin'. Dey had a big old
gyarden whar dey raised plenty of corn, peas, cabbages, potatoes, collards, and turnip
greens. Out in de fields dey growed mostly corn, wheat, and cotton. Marster kep' lots of
chickens, cows, hogs, goats, and sheep; and he fed 'em all mighty good.

"Marster let his slaves dance, and my Ma was sho' one grand dancer in all de
breakdown's. Dey give 'em plenty of toddy and Niggers is dancers f'um way back yonder
while de toddy lasts.

"Slaves went to deir Marster's meetin's and sot in de back of de church. Dey had
to be good den 'cause Marster sho' didn't 'low no cuttin' up 'mongst his Niggers at de
church. Ma said he didn't believe in whuppin' his Niggers lessen it jus' had to be done,
but den dey knowed he was 'round dar when he did have to whup 'em.

"Ma said when dey had big baptizin's in de river dey prayed and shouted and sung
'Washin' 'way my Sins,' - 'Whar de Healin' Water Flows,' and 'Crossin' de River Jerdan.'
De white preacher baptized de slaves and den he preached-dat was all dere was to it
'cappen de big dinner dey had in de churchyard on baptizin' days.

"When slaves died, dey made coffins out of pine wood and buried 'em whar de
white folkses was buried. If it warn't too fur a piece to de graveyard, dey toted de coffin
on three or four hand sticks. Yessum, hand sticks, dat's what dey called 'em. Dey was
poles what dey sot de coffin on wid a Nigger totin' each end of de poles. De white
preacher prayed and de Niggers sung 'Hark f'um de Tomb.'

"Ma said she had a grand big weddin'. She wore a white swiss dress wid a
bleachin' petticoat, made wid heaps of ruffles and a wreath of flowers 'round her head.
She didn't have no flower gals. Pa had on a long, frock tail, Jim swinger coat lak de
preacher's wore. A white preacher married 'em in de yard at de big house. All de Niggers
was dar, and Marster let 'em dance mos' all night.

"I was de oldest of Ma's 10 chillun. Dey done all gone to rest now 'ceptin' jus' de
three of us what's lef' in dis world of trouble. Yessum, dere sho' is a heap of trouble here.

"Atter de War, Ma and Pa moved on Mr. Bill Marshall's place to farm for him and
dar's whar I was born. Dey didn't stay dar long 'fore dey moved to Mr. Jim Mayne's place
away out in de country, in de forks of de big road down below Watkinsville. I sho' was a
country gal. Yessum, I sho' was. Mr. Mayne's wife was Mrs. Emma Mayne and she took
a lakin' to me 'cause I was named Emma. I stayed wid her chilluns all de time, slep' in de
big house, and et dar too, jus' lak one of dem, and when dey bought for dey chillun dey
bought for me too.

"Us wore homespun dresses and brass toed shoes. Sometimes us would git mighty
mad and fuss over our games and den Miss Emma would make us come in de big house
and set down. No Ma'am, she never did whup us. She was good and she jus' talked to us,
and told us us never would git to Heb'en lessen us was good chillun. Us played games
wid blocks and jumped de rope and, when it was warm, us waded in de crick. Atter I was
big 'nough, I tuk de white chillun to Sunday School, but I didn't go inside den - jus'
waited on de outside for 'em. I never got a chanct to go to school none, but de white
chilluns larnt me some.

"Marse Jim was mighty good to de Niggers what wukked for him, and us all
loved him. He didn't 'low no patterollers or none of dem Ku Kluxers neither to bother de
Niggers on his place. He said he could look atter 'em his own self. He let 'em have
dances, and evvy Fourth of July he had big barbecues. Yessum, he kilt hogs, goats, sheep
and sometimes a cow for dem barbecues. He believed in havin' plenty to eat.

"I 'members dem big corn shuckin's. He had de mostes' corn, what was in great
big piles put in a circle. All de neighbors was axed to come and bring deir Niggers. De
fus' thing to do was to 'lect a gen'ral to stand in de middle of all dem piles of corn and
lead de singin' of de reels. No Ma'am, I don't 'member if he had no shuck stuck up on his
hat or not, and I can't ricollec' what de words of de reels was, 'cause us chillun was little
den, but de gen'ral he pulled off de fus' shuck. Den he started singin' and den dey all sung
in answer to him, and deir two hands a-shuckin' corn kep' time wid de song. As he sung
faster, dey jus' made dem shucks more dan fly. Evvy time de gen'ral would speed up de
song, de Niggers would speed up deir corn shuckin's. If it got dark 'fore dey finished, us
chillun would hold torch lights for 'em to see how to wuk. De lights was made out of big
pine knots what would burn a long time. Us felt mighty big when us was 'lowed to hold
dem torches. When dey got done shuckin' all de corn, dey had a big supper, and Honey,
dem was sho' some good eatments - barbecue of all sorts - jus' thinkin' 'bout dem pies
makes me hongry, even now. Ma made 'em, and she couldn't be beat on chicken pies and
sweet potato pies. Atter dey done et and drunk all dey wanted, Marse Jim would tell 'em
to go to it. Dat was de word for de gen'ral to start up de dancin', and dat lasted de rest of
de night; dat is if dey didn't all fall out, for old time corn shuckin' breakdowns was dragouts
and atter all dem 'freshments, hit sho' kept somebody busy draggin' out dem what
fell out. Us chillun was 'lowed to stay up long as us wanted to at corn shuckin's, and
sometimes us would git out and try to do lak de grown-up Niggers. Hit was de mos' fun.

"Dey went huntin' and fishin' and when dey cotch or kilt much, dey had a big
supper. I 'members de fus' time I ever cooked 'possum. Ma was sick in de bed, and de
mens had done been 'possum huntin'. Ma said I would jus' have to cook dem 'possums.
She told me how to fix 'em and she said to fix 'em wid potatoes and plenty of butter and
red pepper. Den she looked at me right hard and said dat dey had better be jus' right. Dat
skeered me so I ain't never been so I could eat no 'possum since den. Yessum, dey was
cooked jus' right, but cookin' 'em jus' once when I was skeered cured me of de taste for
eatin' 'possum.

"Us chillun didn't git out and go off lak dey does dese days. Us stayed dar on de
plantation. In winter us had to wear plenty of clothes, wid flannel petticoats and sich lak,
and us stayed in by de fire. Big boys had clothes made out of jeans, but little boys wore
homespun shirts. On hot days us jus' wore one piece of clothes, a sort of shirt what was
made long and had a yoke in it.

"Dey made me use snuff to cure my sore eyes when I was little, and I never could
quit usin' it no more. When I was 'bout 15, Ma and Pa moved to Athens and I went to
wuk for Mr. Joe Webb's fambly. I wukked for 'em for 30 years and raised all deir chillun.
Dey was all mighty good to me and seed dat I had plenty of evvything. I would still be
dar, but de old folkses all done died out and gone to dey rest and de younguns done
married and lef' here.

"I was wukkin' right in de house wid 'em when I 'cided to git married. Yes Ma'am,
I sho' done had one swell elegant weddin'. Jus' evvything heart could ask for. I married at
my Ma's house, but my white folkses was all right dar, and dey had done fixed de house
up pretty wid flowers all over it. Dey give me my white flannel weddin' dress and it was
sho' pretty, but dey warn't nothin' lackin' 'bout my second day dress. My white folkses
bought dat too, - It was a bottle green silk. Lawsy, but I was sho' one dressed up bride. It
was 8 o'clock dat night when de preacher got finished wid tyin' dat knot for me and Sam
Virgel. My sister and her fellow stood up wid us and us had a big crowd at our weddin'
supper. Dere was one long table full of our white folkses, 'sides all de Niggers, and I jus'
never seed so much to eat. My white folkses said dat Emma jus' had to have plenty for
her weddin' feast and dey evermore did lay out good things for dat supper, and dem
Niggers sho' did hide dat chicken and cake away lak dey hadn't never seed none before.

"I wukked on for de Webbs 'til dey was all gone. De old folks is in Heb'en whar I
'spects to see 'em some day when de Lord done called me home. De younguns moved
away, but I still loves 'em evvyone, 'cause dey looked atter old Emma so good when dey
was here. Us never had no chillun and Sam done been gone to his res' long years ago. I'se
jus' a-wukkin' and a-waitin' 'til I gits called to go too. I don't have plenty all de time now
lak I used to, and nobody here looks atter old Emma no more, but I makes out.

"I'se mighty glad it rained if dat's what sont you to my door. It's been nice to talk
wid white folkses again. I wisht I had somepin' nice for you! Let me cut you a bunch of
my flowers?" She carefully placed her iron on the hearth and hobbled out in the yard. The
May shower had been followed by sunshine as she handed her guest a huge bouquet of
roses, Aunt Emma bowed low. "Good-bye, Missy," she said, "please come back to see
me."

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