"We come on the train to Memphis and they come on thater way to Lonoke whar we settled. Don Shirley was the man I come on horseback with from Memphis to Lonoke. He was a man what dealt in horses. Sure he was a white man. He's where we got some horses. I don't remember if he lived at Lonoke or not.
"I have voted, yes ma'am, a heap of times. I don't remember what kind er ticket I votes. I'm a Democrat, I think so. I ain't voted fur sometime now. I don't know if I'll vote any more times or not. I don't know what is right bout votin and what ain't right.
"When I was a boy I helped farm. We had what we made. I guess it was plenty. I had more to eat and I didn't have as many changes of clothes as folks has to have nowdays bout all de difference. They raised lots more. They bought things to do a year and didn't be allus goin to town. It was hard to come to town. Yes mam it did take a long time, sometimes in a ox wagon. The oxen pulled more over muddy roads. Took three days to come to town and git back. I farmed one-half-for-the-other and on shear crop. Well one bout good as the other. Bout all anybody can make farmin is plenty to eat and a little to wear long time ago and nows the same way. The most I reckon I ever did make was on Surrounded Hill (Biscoe) when I farmed one-half-fur-de-udder for Sheriff Reinhardt. The ground was new and rich and the seasons hit just fine. No maam I never owned no farm, no livestock, no home. The only thing I owned was a horse one time. I worked 16 or 17 years for Mr. Brown and for Mr. Plunkett and Son. I drayed all de time fur em. Hauled freight up from the old depot (wharf) down on the river. Long time fore a railroad was thought of. I helped load cotton and hides on the boats. We loaded all day and all night too heap o'nights. We worked till we got through and let em take the ship on.
"The times is critical for old folks, wages low and everything is so high. The young folks got heap better educations but seems like they can't use it. They don't know how to any avantage. I know they don't have as good chances at farmin as de older folks had. I don't know why it is. My son works up at the lumber yard. Yes he owns this house. That's all he owns. He make nough to get by on, I recken. He works hard, yes maam. He helps me if he can. I get $4 a month janitor at the Farmers and Merchants Bank (Des Arc). I works a little garden and cleans off yards. No maam it hurts my rheumatism to run the yard mower. I works when I sho can't hardly go. Nothin matter cept I'm bout wo out. I plied for the old folks penshun but I ain't got nuthin yet. I signed up at the bank fur it agin not long ago. I has been allus self sportin. Didn't pend on no livin soul but myself."
Interviewer: Mrs. Bernice Bowden
Person interviewed: A.J. Mitchell
419 E. 11th Avenue, Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age: 78
Occupation: Garbage hauler
"I was 'bout seven when they surrendered. I can remember when my old master sold Aunt Susan. She raised me. I seen old master when he was tryin' to whip old Aunt Susan. She was the cook. She said, 'I ain't goin' let you whip me' and I heard my sister say next day he done sold Aunt Susan. I ain't seed her since. I called her ma. My mother died when I was two years old. She was full Injun. My father was black but his hair was straight. His face was so black it shined. Looked like it was greased. My father said he was freeborn and I've seen stripes on his back look like the veins on back of my hand where they whipped him tryin' to make him disown his freedom.
"Old Jack Clifton was my master. Yes ma'm, that was his name.
"I 'member when they had those old looms—makin' cloth and old shuttle to put the thread on. I can see 'em now.