"Grandma Katy had a sister named Maria and a brother named Peter. He owned all three of them. I have seen all of them. Grandma Katy was the oldest. She and Uncle Peter stayed close together. He didn't have no wife and she didn't have no husband. But Aunt Maria had a husband. She lived off from them after freedom. It was about twelve miles away. My great-aunt and great-uncle—they were Maria and Peter—that was what they were. Uncle Peter died first before I left Louisiana, but Aunt Maria and Grandma Katy died after I came to Arkansas. Grandma Katy lived four years after I came here.
"After they was free and my father had gotten large enough to work and didn't have no horse, my grandma was going 'round waiting on women—that is all she did—all the rest of the people had gotten large and left home. Papa made a crop with a hoe. He made three bales of cotton and about twelve loads of corn with that hoe. He used to tell me, 'You don't know nothin' 'bout work. You oughter see how I had to work.' After that he bought him a horse. Money was scarce then and it took something to buy the place and the horse both. They were turned loose from slavery without anything. Hardly had a surname—just Katy, Maria, and Peter.
"I knew more about the slave-time history of my mother's folks than I did about my father's but I'll tell you that some other time. My grandmother on my mother's side was born in Richmond, Virginia. She was owned by a doctor but I can't call his name. She gets her name from her husband's owners. They came from Virginia. They didn't take the name of their owners in Louisiana. They took the name of the owners in Virginia. She was a twin—her twin was a boy named June and her name was Hetty. Her master kept her brother to be a driver for him. She was sent from Virginia to Louisiana to people that were related to her Virginia people. She called her Louisiana mistress 'White Ma;' she never did call her 'missis.' The white folks and the colored folks too called her Indian because she was mixed with Choctaw. That's the Indian that has brown spots on the jaw. They're brownskin. It was an Indian from the Oklahoma reservation that said my mother belonged to the Choctaws.
"She rode from Virginia to Louisiana on a boat at the age of twelve years. She was separated from her mother and brothers and sisters and never did see them again. She was kept in the house for a nurse. She was not a midwife. She nursed the white babies. That was what she was sent to Louisiana for—to nurse the babies. The Louisiana man that owned her was named George Dorkins. But I think this white woman came from Virginia. She married this Louisiana man, then sent back to her father's house and got grandma; she got her for a nurse. She worked only a year and a half in the field before peace was declared. After she got grown and married, my grandfather—she had to stay with him and cook and keep house for him. That was during slavery time but after George Dorkins died. Dorkins went and got hisself a barrel of whiskey—one of these great big old barrels—and set it up in his house, and put a faucet in it and didn't do nothin' but drink whiskey. He said he was goin' to drink hisself to death. And he did.
"He was young enough to go to war and he said he would drink hisself to death before he would go, and he did. My grandma used to steal newspapers out of his house and take them down to the quarters and leave them there where there were one or two slaves that could read and tell how the War was goin' on. I never did learn how the slaves learned to read. But she was in the house and she could steal the papers and send them down. Later she could slip off and they would tell her the news, and then she could slip the papers back.
"Her master drank so much he couldn't walk without falling and she would have to help him out. Her mistress was really good. She never allowed the overseer to whip her. She was only whipped once in slave time while my father's mother was whipped more times than you could count.
"Her master often said, 'I'll drink myself to death before I'll go to war and be shot down like a damn target.' She said in living with them in the house, she learned to cuss from him. She said she was a cussin' soul until she became a Christian. She wasn't 'fraid of them because she was kin to them in some way. There was another woman there who was some kin to them and she looked enough like my grandma for them to be kin to each other. We talked it over several times and said we believed we were related; but none of us know for sure.
"When the slaves wanted something said they would have my grandma say it because they knew she wouldn't be whipped for it. 'White Ma' wouldn't let nobody whip her if she knew it. She cussed the overseer out that time for whipping her.
"When grandma was fourteen or fifteen years old they locked her up in the seed house once or twice for not going to church. You see they let the white folks go to the church in the morning and the colored folks in the evening, and my grandma didn't always want to go. She would be locked up in the seed bin and she would cuss the preacher out so he could hear her. She would say, 'Master, let us out.' And he would say, 'You want to go to church?' And she would say, 'No, I don't want to hear that same old sermon: "Stay out of your missis' and master's hen house. Don't steal your missis' and master's chickens. Stay out of your missis' and master's smokehouse. Don't steal your missis' and master's hams." I don't steal nothing. Don't need to tell me not to.'
"She was tellin' the truth too. She didn't steal because she didn't have to. She had plenty without stealin'! She got plenty to eat in the house. But the other slaves didn't git nothin' but fat meat and corn bread and molasses. And they got tired of that same old thing. They wanted something else sometimes. They'd go to the hen house and get chickens. They would go to the smokehouse and get hams and lard. And they would get flour and anything else they wanted and they would eat something they wanted. There wasn't no way to keep them from it.