"When my little brother wuz borned, I 'members dat day. Mammy and I wuz working out in dis corn patch. She wuz coverin' corn, an she jes had 'bout three or four more rows to cover, den she ran to de house. Dey wuz jes one room en she tried to made de udder children go outside but dey wouldn' go, so she ran outside in de chimney corner, en soon dey heard a baby holler. Dey called me to cum quick 'cause Mammy found a baby. By de spring house stood a ole tree—en I seed it had blown down an in de branches was a big nest an de nest wuz empty. I sez—"Rite dere's where mammy found her baby—rite outer dat nest". Dey sez, "No suh! She done found it in de chimney corner, 'cause we heard it dere." No, mammy didden need nobody to help tend to her. Aunt Hannah Erwin was a doctor woman. She could sure cure a woman if she had child-bed fever—but my mammy didden need her."
[Sarah Frances Shaw Graves (Aunt Sally)]
Interview with Sarah Graves,
Skidmore, Missouri.
Still Carries Scars From Lashes
"Sweet are the uses of Adversity,
"Which like a toad, ugly and venomous,
"Wears yet a Jewel in its head."
—Shakespeare.
Childhood and girlhood memories are vivid to Sarah Frances Shaw Graves, an 87 year old Negro woman whose indomitable courage and steadfast purpose overcame obstacles and made possible the ownership of the 120 acre farm near Skidmore, on R.F.D. #4, where she lives with her bachelor son, Arza Alexander Graves.
The frame house which is their home, though small, is comfortable. It is surrounded by a neatly kept yard, with flower beds and a cement walk which leads from the gate to the front door.
The visit had been arranged by telephone, and as the interviewer neared the home, Aunt Sally could be seen standing, on the front porch, eagerly watching and waiting. A "close up" showed that her immaculately washed, stiffly starched, print dress and apron were unwrinkled. Evidently she had stood up ever since she had put them on.
Her white hair was combed back off her fore-head, and held in place by side combs. Although age has lined her hands, and put deep furrows in her brown cheeks, her unquenchable will to overcome handicaps has held her body erect and shoulders undrooped. In spite of her years, most of which were spent in gruelling labor, she is rugged and healthy, and meets the world with a smile and ready sympathetic laughter.
She was eager to begin her story, and led the way into the house, where at once the unmistakable signs of good housekeeping, cleanliness and tasteful arrangement are apparent. The home, though small, is moderately and comfortably furnished. They also enjoy the conveniences and accommodations of the rural telephone, a radio and a daily newspaper.
Her life story is one of contrasts; contrasts of thought; contrasts of culture, beneficial inventions and suffrage. Not far from her home the glistening streamlined Zephyr speeds on twin rails beside the Missouri River, near the route of the slow-moving, creaking wagons on the ox-road of the 1850's.