His eyesight is good. He is in excellent health for his age. The old man admits that his main weakness is chewing tobacco. He was seated in the living room of his 4-room, old fashioned frame cottage which is poorly furnished, but clean, where he lives with his wife, at least twenty-five years younger than himself. His story follows:

"My name is Henry Johnson. I was born in Patrick County, Virginia and was raised all over de state. I was only sold twice. My father's name was Bill Alexander and my mother's name was Fannie, but I didn't know nothin' 'bout my parents till I was past eighteen years old or about that. I never knowed my real age. My owner's name was Billy Johnson in Patrick County so I always carried his name. When I was a little bit 'a fellow, I used to pack water to twenty-five and thirty men in one field, den go back to de house and bring enough water for breakfast de next morning. When I got a little bigger, I had to take a little hoe and dig weeds out of de crop. If our white boss see a little grass we overlooked he would handcuff our feet to a whipping post, den chain the slave around de stomach to de post and strap de chin over de top of de post and place your hands in front of you.

"In de start de slave has been stripped naked, and lashed, often to death. Dey would be left strapped after from twenty-five to fifty lashes every two or three hours to stand dere all night. De next day, de overseer would be back with a heavy paddle full of holes that had been dipped in boiling water and beat until de whole body was full of blisters. Den he'd take a cat-o'-nine-tails dipped in hot salt water to draw out de bruised blood and would open everyone of dem blisters with dat. If de slave did not die from dat torture, he would be unfastened from de whipping post, and made go to de field just as he was. Often times he would die shortly after. Dey did the women de same."

Here he showed the writer scars on his head and shoulders which he said were from those beatings.

"I never knowed what a shirt was until I was past twenty. When my young master went three miles to school, he rode on a horse, I had to walk along side de horse to carry his books, den go home and fetch him a hot dinner for noon and go back after him at night to carry dem books.

"My boss had eleven children. He had one hundred and twenty-five slaves on one of de plantations, two hundred on another. On all his plantations he owned better'n 1500 slaves. He was one of de richest land owners in de state of Virginia. He often told me I was born just one hour before his youngest son. I stayed with dat family until way after de war was fought.

"Dey would take a great string of slaves in de road on Sunday and make us walk to church. Buggies with de white folks in would be in front of us, in de midst of us, and all betwixt and behind us. When we got dat four or five miles we had to sit on a log in de broiling sun, while a white man preached to us. All dey evah would say would be niggers obey your masters and mistress and don't steal from 'em. And lo and behold, honey, de masters would make us slaves steal from each of the slave owners. Our master would make us surround a herd of his neighbor's cattle, round dem up at night, and make us slaves stay up all night long and kill and skin every one of dem critters, salt the skins down in layers in de master's cellar, and put de cattle piled ceilin' high in de smoke house so nobody could identify skinned cattle.

"Den when de sheriff would come around lookin' for all dem stolen critters, our boss would say, 'Sheriff, just go right on down to dem niggahs' cabins and search dem good, I know my niggers don't steal.' Course de sheriff come to our cabins and search, sure we didn't have nothin' didn't belong to us, but de boss had plenty. After de sheriff's search, we had to salt and smoke all dat stolen meat and hang it in old marse smoke house for him. Den dey tell us, don't steal. Dey raised turkeys in de 500 lots and never did give us one. So we wanted one so bad once, I put corn underneath de cabin and a turkey, a great big one, would come under our cabin to eat dat corn. One day when I got a chance I caught dat old gobbler by de neck and him and me went round and round under dat old cabin house. He was de biggest strongest bird I ever see, I was only a boy but finally I beat. I twisted his neck till he died. Den I took out up to de big house, fast as anything, to tell my old miss one of our finest turkeys dead. She said stop cryin' Henry and throw him under de hill. I was satisfied. I run back, picked dat ole bird, taken all his feathers to de river and throwed dem in. Dat night we cooked him, and didn't we eat somethin' good. I had to tell her 'bout dat missin' bird 'cause when dey check up it all had to tally so dat fixed dat.

"My old master told me when de war was being fought and the Yankees was on de way coming through Franklin County, Virginia, 'My little niggah, do you know how old you is?' I said: 'No sah, boss.' He said: 'You are seventeen years old.' I never even saw my mother and father until I was in my twenties. A white man taken me to Danville, Virginia to drive his carriage for him. After I was dere a spell a colored man kept watching me so much I got plum scared. Dis was after de war was over. Den one day, lo and behold, he jumped at me and he grabbed me and asked me where was I staying. I did not know whether to tell him or not, I was so scared. Den he said I am your father and I am goin' to take you to your mother and sisters and brothers down in Greenville, Virginia. When he got me dere, I found two sisters and four brothers. Dey was all so glad to see me dey shouted and cried and carried on so I was so scared I tried to run away, 'cause I didn't know nothin' 'bout none of them. And I thought dat white man what brought me down here ought to have saved me from all dis. I just thought a white man was my God, I didn't know no better.

"Well, when my folks finally stopped rejoicing, my mother only had two chickens. She killed and cooked dem for me. My father and brothers would go to work every day and leave me at home with my mother for over a year. They would not trust me to work, feared I would run off 'cause I didn't no nothin' 'bout them. Hadn't even heard of a mother and father. My brother and father would work all day and only get one peck of corn or one pound of meat or one quart of molasses for a whole day's work from sun up till sun down. We had to grind dat corn for our flour, and got biscuits once a year at Christmas and den only one biscuit apiece.