"We had it cleared by the first of March—all ready to plow in 1865. My father raised his own sheep and cotton, and from dis my mother made our clothes. Father cleared thirty acres on his place de same year and sowed it all in wheat. De first year we got 817 bushel of wheat and 1500 bushel of corn, it was all new land. Corn really growed in dem days. We hoed it by hand. You don't see corn like dat now. We worked out every little weed. Every little darkey worked in dem days.
"My grandad, Godfry, owned a place called de old Potter's place, near Vichy Springs, Vichy, Missouri, not far from where we lived. He bought it from a man who used to make pottery. Grandfather made his own mill to grind grain for bread. In dose days there was no steam operated mills and few water mills. Sometimes we had to go as much as twenty miles to grind corn a bushel of corn. So grandfather made his own burr to grind corn and wheat. It was as big as any burr in de large mills, but it was turned by hand power. It was made of limestone rock, a great big stone about two and a half foot across. De top burr would probably weigh about three or four hundred pounds. Da bottom case would weigh a thousand pounds or more. There was a hole in de top stone, where de grain flowed freely to de bottom and ground out on the big thick stone below. I ground many a bushel of meal on it myself. I don't know how grandfather got de large stones in place, for it was there as long as I could remember. I just wonder if it isn't some place there yet. I would love to go and find out and see de old burr again.
"People call these hard times, shucks, they don't know what hard times is. Those were hard days, when folks had to go on foot twenty miles to mill. I remember in my early days, we used cattle for teams to haul, start at four o'clock in de morning, drive all day, stay over night and grind de next day. Sometimes de crowd ahead of us was so big we had to stay over for three or four days. Sometimes we would be until eleven or twelve at night getting home. Gone at least two days and one night. I had to make trips like dis many times.
"Sometimes we could take a couple of bushel of corn and go horseback, but twice a year, Spring and Fall, we would take eight or ten bushel of wheat, six and eight bushel of corn or according to what we needed and take de cattle and a old wooden axle wagon, walking and driving de cattle all de way there and back. We drove or led dem with only a rope around dem.
"De last trip I made millin', I drove for Bill Fannins, a yoke of young three-year old cattle. Wasn't even broke. Went twenty-five miles, drove all de way, walking, while he sat up in de wagon. Sometimes de wagon dragged in de mud, de old wooden axle burying so deep we couldn't hardly get it out, going through timber and dodging brush. Some folks went even further dan dat. Sometimes a mill might be four or five miles from you but dey got out of fix and you would have to go to another one. Maybe twenty-five miles or more.
"There was not many good doctors in those days, but my grandfather was an old fashioned herb doctor. I remember him well. I was about twenty-five years old when he died. Everybody knew him in dat country and he doctored among de white people, one of de best doctors of his kind. He went over thirty miles around to people who sent for him. He was seldom at home. Lots of cases dat other doctors gave up, he went and raised them. He could cure anything.
"When I was sick one time, I was den about eighteen or nineteen years old, my folks had Dr. Boles, from Lane's Prairie and Dr. Mayweather from Vichey, to come and tend me. Dey both gave me up. I had typhoid and pneumonia. Dese doctors were de best to be found but dey could do nothing and said I was as good as dead. My grandfather was gone, had come to Rolla, doctoring Charley Stroback's child whose clothes had caught fire and he was burned badly. Grandfather could 'blow out' fire.
"He got home about four o'clock in de morning after de doctors had done give me up. He felt my pulse and said he didn't know whether I was dead or alive. No pulse but he said I felt warm. He asked my grandmother if she had any light bread baked. She said yes and got it for him. He told her to butter it and lay the butter side down over my mouth and if it melted I was still living. She did this and soon she said, 'Yes, he is still alive. Now go to work and get a little whiskey and butter and beat it together good and drop just two drops in his mouth, and in four hours drop two more.'
"He sat beside me, layed his hands on my breast and about ten o'clock de next day I began to come around. I realized he was there and he asked me if I knew him which I did.
"In 'blowing fire', my grandfather simply blew on de burn and de fire and pain was gone. It was a secret charm, handed down from generation to generation. He said only one could be told. He told my Aunt Harriet and she could 'blow fire' de same as my grandfather.