"I married durin' the war and my husband went to war with my uncle. He didn't come back and I waited three years and then I married again.
"You know they used to give the soldiers furloughs. One time one young man come home and he wouldn't go back, just hid out in the cane brake. Then the men come that was lookin' for them that 'exerted' durin' the war and they waited till he come out for somethin' to eat and they caught him and took him out in the bayou and shot him. That was the onliest dead man I ever seen. I seen a heap of live ones.
"The war was gettin' hot then and old master was in debt. Old mistress had a brother named Big Marse Lewis. He wanted to take all us folks and sell us in New Orleans and said he'd get 'em out of debt. But old master wouldn't do it. I know Marse Lewis got us in the jail house in Bastrop and Mars John come to get us out and Marse Lewis shot him down. I went to my master's burial—yes'm, I did! Old mistress didn't let us go to New Orleans either. Oh Lordy, I was young them days and I wasn't afraid of nothin'.
"Oh ho! What you talkin' 'bout? Ku Klux? They come out here just like blackbirds. They tried to scare the people and some of 'em they killed.
"Yes Lord, I seen a heap. I been through a lot and I seen a heap, but I'm here yet. But I hope I never live to see another war.
"When peace was declared, old mistress say 'You goin' to miss me' and I sho did. They's good to us. I ain't got nothin' to do now but sit here and praise the Lord cause I gwine to go home some day."
Interviewer: Mrs. Carol Graham
Person interviewed: Marion Johnson
"Howdy, Missy, glad to see you again. As you sees I'm 'bout wound up on my cotton baskets and now I got these chairs to put bottoms in but I can talk while I does this work cause it's not zacting like making baskets.