"William Derricotte was my father, and he belonged to Col. Robert Thomas. My father spent most of his time beautifyin' de yards 'round de big house, and in dese days and times he would be called a landscape gardener. Dey jus' called 'em yard boys den. Atter Pa and Ma was married, Marster Stevens sold Ma to Marster Robert, so dat dey could be together. Mr. Robert Thomas' place was right up dis same old street, whar de Y.W.C.A. is now, and right dar is whar I was born. Dat was in 1860, a long time ago; and lots of things has happened since den. Lots of people has moved away and lots more has died out, 'til dere ain't many of de folks left here dat lived in Athens den. De Thomases, Dorseys, and Phinizys was some of de oldest families here.
"I was too little to know much about de war but, little as I was, dere's one thing dat's still as fresh in my memory now as den, and dat's how people watched and waited to hear dat old Georgia train come in. Not many folks was able to take de papers den, and de news in 'em was from one to two weeks old when dey got here. All de men dat was able to fight was off at de front and de folks at home was anxious for news. De way dat old train brought 'em de news was lak dis: if de southern troops was in de front, den dat old whistle jus' blowed continuously, but if it was bad news, den it was jus' one short, sharp blast. In dat way, from de time it got in hearin', evvybody could tell by de whistle if de news was good or bad and, believe me, evvybody sho' did listen to dat train.
"Times was hard durin' de war but from what I've heared de folks dat was old folks den say, dey warn't near as bad here as in lots of other places. Yes Mam! Sho' I kin 'member dem Yankees comin' here, but dat was atter de war was done over. Dey camped right here on Hancock Avenue. Whar dey camped was mostly woods den, and deir camp reached nearly all de way to whar Milledge Avenue is now. Us chillun was scared to death of dem soldiers and stayed out of deir way all us could. My Marster, Mr. Stevens Thomas, hid all of his family's silver and other valuables dat could be put out of sight, for dem Yankees jus' went 'round takin' whatever dey wanted. Dey stole all kinds of food out of de homes, went into de smokehouses and got hams, and cotched up de chickens. Dey jus' reached out and tuk what dey wanted and laughed about it lak dey hadn't been stealin'.
"Dem Yankees brought de smallpox here wid 'em and give it to all de Athens folks, and dat was somepin awful. Folks jus' died out wid it so bad. Dey built a hospital what dey called de 'pest house' out whar de stockade is now. It was rough and small but I reckon it helped some. It warn't near large enough for all de folks dat was sick wid smallpox at one time, and so dey finally got to whar dey used it jus' for de colored folks, 'cause it seemed dat smallpox went harder wid dem dan wid de white folks.
"When de war ended us didn't leave Mr. Stevens Thomas. Ma kept on cookin' and wukin' 'round de house, and Pa wuked lots for other folks, larned to do brick-work, build walls, and things lak dat. Atter he got to be a brickmason he allus had plenty to do.
"Marbles was de favorite game of de chillun dem days but us never got to play much lak chillun does dese days, 'cause times was so hard right atter de war dat as soon as chillun got big enough dey had to go to wuk. Some of our very best times was at de old swimmin' hole. Us dammed up dat little crick right back of whar de Seaboard Depot is now and it made a fine pool to swim in. It was cool for it was shady off down dar in de woods, and us spent many a hour dar on days as hot as dis one is. When dey missed us at home, dat was de fust place dey thought of when dey come to hunt us. I had some mighty good times in dat crick and I couldn't begin to count de duckin's I got dar and de whuppin's my Ma and Pa give me for stayin' so long.
"De biggest time in all de year was de Commencement Day; evvybody got busy and fixed up for dat. My Marster allus had lots of company at commencement times, and us had de most good things to eat. Out in town dey was 'pared for it too. Tables was all along de sidewalks whar you could buy any kind of 'freshments you wanted. Course dere warn't as many kinds of 'freshments den as dey has now, but dere was allus plenty of de strong sort. One time durin' commencement week, Ma give me a whole quarter to spend. I was de happiest and de richest boy in dis town; jus' had more money to spend dan anybody, and I walked de streets from one table to another tryin' to see whar I was gwine to spend all dat money." Here, Ike laughed heartily. "Miss," he said, "you jus' never could guess what I spent all dat money for. I bought a whole quarter's worth of ginger-cakes and lit out for de swimmin' hole. Us chillun had a fine time down at de swimmin' hole dat day. De Cobbs and Lumpkins owned all dat land in dar 'round our swimmin' hole den. Dey owned from de Catholic Church straight through to College Avenue.
"I mighty well 'member de fust wuk I ever done. I was still jus' a little fellow when Miss Belle Brumby told Ma she wanted me for a butler boy and dat she would pay me $2.50 a month. I jus' jumped up and down and begged her to let me wuk for Miss Belle. Why, I jus' knowed I would git rich right away, 'cause $2.50 was a mighty lot of money." Ike laughed as he said: "How many boys would wuk for dat pay for a week now, let alone a whole month? Ma did let me wuk for Miss Belle and I was happy, but I know my Mist'ess had a time wid me 'cause, when I got on dat white coat dey let me wear to wait on de table, I knowed more dan evvybody else put together and dere couldn't nobody tell me how to keep de flies off de table. Miss Belle is one fine 'oman, dey jua' don't come no finer and no better.
"When I was fourteen my Pa hired me out to be a shoemaker. De shop whar I was 'prenticed was down on Broad Street, jus' about whar de Bernstein Furniture Store is now. Dat old buildin' was tore down long years ago and evvything 'long dar is changed now. De Athens Hardware Store is de only Broad Street business of dem days dat has stood in de same place and endured through all dese years.
"When I went to wuk for Mr. Joe Barry in his shoe shop on Jackson Street, right in back of whar Mr. Lee Morris' store is now, I felt lak I had got to be a real sho' 'nough important shoemaker. I wuked for him 'bout 12 or 14 years. He was a good man to wuk for and he was de only shoemaker I ever knowed to git rich at his trade; he really did make money in dat shop. I've been a shoemaker ever since 1874, but I never have been able to git far ahead. In spite of all our trouble for 85 years atter de war, it seems to me dat times was much better den dan dey is now. Course, folks didn't make as much den as dey does now. Carpenters, bricklayers, shoemakers, in fact 'most any kind of laborers who got from $1.00 to $1.50 a day thought dey had fine wages den. Boys was paid from $2.50 to $5.00 a month. Cooks got $5.00 to $6.00 a month, and of course, dey got deir meals whar dey wuked. Sometimes odds and ends of old clothes was give to 'em, and dey got along very well, even if most of 'em did have families and big families at dat. Folks could live on less den 'cause things was cheaper. You could git meal for 50¢ a bushel; side meat was 5¢ to 6¢ a pound; and you could git a 25-pound sack of flour for 50¢. Wood was 50¢ a load. House rent was so cheap dat you didn't have to pay over $3.00 a month for a 2 or 3 room house, and lots of times you got it cheaper. Most evvybody wore clothes made out of homespun cloth and jeans, and dey didn't know nothin' 'bout ready-made, store-bought clothes. Dem clothes what dey made at home didn't cost very much. Livin' was cheap, but folks lived mighty well in dem days.