Interview with Alex Bufford,
St. Joseph, Missouri,
by Carl B. Boyer, St. Joseph,
Buchanan County, Mo.
The wonderful meteoric display known as the "star shower" or "the time when the stars fell," occured in 1833. It was on the night of the 12th and 13th of November. Many ignorant persons concluded that the Judgement day had come, or that the end of the world was at hand. Negroes especially were very much frightened. A dance was in progress on a Buchanan County farm, attended exclusively by slaves from the neighborhood. When the star shower began the negroes were first made aware of the fact by a messenger who ran frantically into the cabin and shouted, "If you all wants to git to hebin, you'd better 'gin to say yo' pra'rs mighty sudden, 'cause the Lawd is a-comin' wi' de fire an' de glory an' de wuld'll be burnt up like a cracklin' 'fo mo'nin."
The dancers ran out, fell on their knees and cried for mercy. Not for many days did they recover from their fright. One old negro declared that if the world and his life were spared he would agree to break eighty pounds of hemp every day instead of fifty, as he had been accustomed to do.
The Negro was a part of the early Buchanan County family. They were black slaves and happy.
The negro Mammy had her proper place in the scheme of things. She was no fiction of a later day novelist, but genuine, gentle, untiring, and faithful. The Negro mammy merits a prominent place in the picture an artist might paint, for on her broad shoulders was carried the generation which made the early history of Missouri fascinating and great.
When once a week came "Johnny Seldom"—as the hot biscuits made of wheat flour were called in Old Missouri—all other kinds of bread faded into nothingness. Two kinds of biscuits were typically Missourian—the large, fluffy, high biscuits—which looked like an undersized sofa pillow—and beaten biscuits, small, crisp, delicious—the grandfather of all afternoon tea refreshments. No "Po' white trash" can make beaten biscuits. Indeed, much of the finest flavor of all cookery belonged intuitively to the Negro. How the Negro cook managed to get biscuits steaming hot from the cookroom a quarter of a mile distant through the open yard to the dining room table has always been a mystery. She did it, however, and successfully.
Mr. Alex Bufford, an ex-slave, lives at 1823 Seneca street, St. Joseph, Missouri. Mr Bufford, (everyone calls him Uncle Alex) does not know how old he is, but says he does remember that he was a grown man at the time of the Civil War.
I heard about Uncle Alex from one of the ladies in the reference room at the Public Library in St. Joseph, Mo. She told me I would have to see Uncle Alex right at the noon hour or in the evening, as he would be at work during working hours. I didn't ask her what kind of work he did but I heeded her advice about seeing him at the noon hour. I arrived at his place about 11:50 A.M. As I got out of my car I happened to look up the alley. An old Negro driving a one-horse wagon was just entering it. I guessed in a minute that this was the old gentleman I wanted to see. When he approached I did not tell him at first what I wanted but started talking about the weather. I saw in a minute the old fellow was going to be interesting to talk to.
After we had commented about the weather, I told him what I wanted. Uncle Alex, "Ya sir, I'll be bery glad to tell you anything I kin recollect, but I don't remember like I used to." He said, "I don't know how ole I am, but I was a grown man at the time of de war and I guess I'se de oldest man in de city. I was born in Buchanan County and have libed here all my life. I only been out de state once in my life and dat wuz ober to Elwood seberal years ago. (Elwood, Kansas is only about 2 miles west of St. Joseph.) I'se just don't keer to go any place."
To my question about his family he replied. "Ya sir, I hab four daughters and one son libing, but da don't help dis ole man any. Until I got de ole age pension seberal months ago, I had a terbil time making a libing."