Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed: W.L. Pollacks
Brinkley, Arkansas
Age: 68

"I was born in Shelby County Tennessee. My folks all come from Richmond, Virginia. They come to Kentucky and then on to Tennessee. I am 68 years old. My father's master was Joe Rollacks and Mrs. Chicky they called his wife. My mother's master was Joe Ricks and they all called his wife Miss Fee. I guess it was Pheobe or Josephine but they never called her by them names. Seemed like they was all kin folks. I heard my mother say she dress up in some of the white folks dresses and hitch up the buggy, take dinner and carry two girls nearly grown out to church and to big picnics. She liked that. The servants would set the table and help the white folks plates at the table. Said they had a heap good eating. She had a plenty work to do but she got to take the girls places where the parents didn't want to go. She said they didn't know what to do wid freedom. She said it was like weening a child what never learned to eat yet. I forgot what they did do. She said work was hard to find and money scarce. They find some white folks feed em to do a little work. She said a nickle looked big as a dollar now. They couldn't buy a little bit. They like never get nough money to buy a barrel of flour. It was so high. Seem like she say I was walking when they got a barrel of flour. So many colored folks died right after freedom. They caught consumption. My mother said they was exposed mo than they been used to and mixing up in living quarters too much what caused it. My father voted a Republican ticket. I ain't voted much since I come to Arkansas. I been here 32 years. My farm failed over in Tennessee. I was out lookin' round for farmin' land, lookin' round for good work. I farmed then I worked seven or eight years on the section, then I helped do brick work till now I can't do but a mighty little. I had three children but they all dead. I got sugar dibeates.

"The present times are tough on sick people. It is hard for me to get a living. I find the young folks all for their own selves. If I was well I could get by easy. If a man is strong he can get a little work along.

"The times and young generation both bout to run away wid themselves, and the rest of the folks can't stop em 'pears to me like."

Interviewer: Miss Irene Robertson
Person interviewed: "Doc" John Pope, Biscoe, Arkansas
Age: 87

I am 87 years old for a fact. I was born in De Soto County, Mississippi, eight miles south of Memphis, Tennessee. No I didn't serve in de War but my father Gus Pope did. He served in de War three years and never came home. He served in 63rd Regiment Infantry of de Yankee army. He died right at the surrender. I stayed on de farm till the surrender. We scattered around den. My father was promised $300.00 bounty and 160 acres of land. Dey was promised dat by the Constitution of the United States. Every soldier was promised dat. No he never got nary penny nor nary acre of land. We ain't got nuthin. De masters down in Mississippi did help 'em where they stayed on. I never stayed on. I left soon as de fightin was gone. I was roamin round in Memphis and man asked me if I wanted to go to college. He sent a train load to Fitz (Fisk) University. I stayed there till I graduated. I studied medicine generally. Sandy Odom, the preacher at Brinkley, was there same time as I was. He show is old. He's up in ninety now. He had a brother here till he died. He was a fine doctor. He got more practice around here than any white doctor in this portion of de county. Fitz University was a fine college. It was run by rich folks up north. I don't know how long I stayed there. It was a good while. I went to Isaac Pope, my uncle. He was farming. Briscoe owned the Pope niggers at my first recollection. He brought my uncle and a lot more over here where he owned a heap of dis land. It was all woods. Dats how I come here.

After de Civil War? Dey had to "Root hog or die". From 1860-1870 the times was mighty hard. People rode through the county and killed both white and black. De carpet bagger was bout as bad as de Ku Kluck.

I came here I said wid John Briscoe. They all called him Jack Briscoe, in 1881. I been here ever since cept W.T. Edmonds and P.H. Conn sent me back home to get hands. I wrote 'em how many I had. They wired tickets to Memphis. I fetched 52 families back. I been farmin and practicin all my life put near.