Document text
April 6, 1939
Mandy Long Roberson (Negress)
Ex -slave, housekeeper, land-
owner, County Home Inmate
County Home, Yadkinville, N.C.
Clalee Dunnagan, writer
Claude V. Dunnagan, reviser
OLE AN' BROKE
Original Names
Mandy Long Roberson
Yadkin County, N.C.
Yadkinville, N.C.
Birmingham, Ala.
Carbon Hill, Ala.
Lynch Family
Long Family
Changed Names
Lucinda Williams
Jackson County, N.C.
Edgeville, N.C.
Atlanta, Georgia
Spruce Hill, Georgia
Payne Family
Larson Family
OLE AN' BROKE
"Lawsy, chile, you don't know nothinl bout misery lak in
dem days when we 'uz slaves. I was little den, but I recollects
how de traders useter come an' buy our folks an' take 'em away an'
leave us chilluns a-cryin' an' a-weepini, but it neveh done no
good, they took 'em on anyhow."
Aunt Cindy was born several years before the Civil War. Her
parents were owned by the Paynes, of upper Jackson County, and
while Cindy was still a baby, they were sold to the Larson family
who owned a large plantation near Rdgeville. Later Cindy's mother
and brother were sold to slave speculators and carried into the
deep south. She never saw them again.
"Homey chile, I 'spec' I was well nigh onto bein' a gran'mAmmy
when yo' was bawn. Ilse seed a lot o' misery in dis worl' in my
time, an' I ain't 'zactly sayin' I ain't seed no happiness.
"When de wah was ovah, us colored folks stayed on wid de
Larsons fo' a spell dat is, dem dat was lef' stayed on.
Mammy an' Joe 'd done been sold down de ribber.... dat's what dey
called it when de speelators bought 'em and took 'em off, 'cause
most o' de time dey got sent down to New Awleans, or Saint Louis,
Dat was a long piece from Nawth C'lina, an' I ain't nevah heard
from 'em since. But dat's bin a long spell, an' I can't recollect
a heap of it, 'cepin what Pappy tole me when I growed up."
Cindy was thrifty and industrious, and in the course of a
few years, had saved up a considerable sum of money money
earned cooking and housekeeping for well-to-do white families. She
had a prosperous uncle in Atlanta who wanted her to cook for him
and his family. It was while Cindy was in Greenburg, prior to her
going to her uncle's in Atlanta, that she met and married Toe
Goodman, a worker in a cotton brokerage warehouse. Cindy and Toe
didn't get along so well.
"Dat scound'el was de mos° wusthless scamp I evah seed. We
hadn't bin hitched two days when he up an' quit his job at de ware..
house, an' commenced loaf in' 'round de house, wid me payin' all de
bills an' doin' all de work. I said to myself, Idis won't nevah
work', When I got a letter from Uncle Robey in A'lanta, vantins as
to come an' keep house to' lim, I packed up my duds and le' dat
man. Uncle Robey done sent me de money to ride de train.
"I worked in Georgie 'bout to' years at Uncle Robey's an' den
I met Sam......Sam Morrison he worked in a mine near Aslanta
an' I reckin I aorta liked lim soon as I knowed 'in. Anyhow, we
got hitched purty soon, and figgered we'd start housekeepins flr
ourselves. We bought a little house in Spruce's Hill......dat's
'bout sixty. mile from Aslantas
Sam nevah quit his job like dat
and it wasn't long 'fore we had
"We lived in dat house to'
An' when we set up hausekeepie
wusthless Zoe done. He kepi workin'
some money saved up in de bank.
nigh onto fifteen years, an' I was
workini all de time, mostly to' de white folks 'round Spruce's Hill.
I made a lot o' frien's in dim days mon'st de white folks. Dey
respected me an' dey'd invite me to visit dire houses of a Sunday,
an' whenever somebody took sick, dey'd always call me to take care
of den. 'Coss, I 'most always got no' work dan I could do, 'cause
evy'body was calling to' me. I recollect whenever I'd wait down
de street of a Sunday, goin' to church, de white folks settins on
.3.
dere poschesid say to me, 'What a purty dress you got on, Cindy'.
Dat pleased ma a heap, 'cause I she does like to dress up purty.
"Well,suh, after slat, Sam commenoed gittint keerless an' got
to stayin, out at night. I reokin all men's de same. He got so he
wouldn't never go to church, an' den he got to runnin' 'round wid a
bad bunch. It wan't long bete' I seed what was de matter. It was
anudder woman. Fust thing I knowed, he'd done brung dat ole slut
right into de house ant was mini& to keep her dere. I reokin I
could tolerate Sam runnini 'round wid udder men an' gittin' drunk
oncet in a while, but when he brung dat ole wench into my house, I
wan't aimini to sten' to' datt No suht Dat night he was in bed
sleepin' wid her an' I grabbed my clo'es an' lit out to' Uncle Robey's
in Atlanta, When I got dire, I tole 'im what happened, an' he said
he's awful glad I oame....ant dat dey won't no use wastin' time on a
no' -count husband like dat. I got a divolce after dat purty quick,
an' sold de house. I reckin Sam run off wid dat hussy just like
he aimed to do all de time.
"After I come back to Atlanta, Uncle Robey took sick an' died.
Den found out he'd done willed me mos' o' his proppity. Div was
five lots an' a little farm right near town. I reckin dat's 'bout
do richest I evah bin in all my life, an' it sho' made me feel awful
proud to awn dat much proppity at onoet.
"I reckin day ain't no fool like a ole fool. When I got all
dat land, I up an' got married agin. Die time it was Manny Watson....
he was a carpenter, but after we got hitched, he nevah done no buildin'
much. I reckin he figgered to live on de rent money I got from my
proppity....,.leastwise, dat's what he done till I oommenoed gittin*
fed up on it, ant den, when I sees 'im wid anudder woman, I tells
'im to git. I ain't seed 'im since den.
"By dat time, my two youn'uns......de ones by my fust hus«
band max grown. Willie, he went an' married a gal dat'd done
bin married onoet 'aro' an' already had two youn'Uns 0 her own.
Den my little gni Bessies.....she took sick an' died. flat
'most killed me 'cause I was hopint to sent ler off to school some'
where.....maybe up Nawth.....I had de money...iv...den.
"Po' long, I commeneed gittin' de misery in my limbs. I reokin
I'd been *unninl 'round too much ant gittin' ovah strained, Anyhow,
de dooter said I needed some hot min'al water baths, no I got up
my belongies an' lit out to' Min'al Springs way out in Arkansaw.
I went on de train an' I rode in style, 'cause I had plenty 0
money in darn days. I stopped off in Nashville in Tennysee ant
bought me some mighty fine olo'es, 'oause I knowed dam people out
in Arkansaw at Min'al Springs was mighty classy folks.
°I stayed out dere nigh onto to' years, an' I teen& awful
good too, 'cause I'd been takin' den hot water soakin's ant I
reokin I was purty nigh a new woman. 'Bout dat time my money was
runnin' sorta low, an' I figgered I'd been out dere long enough.
/Co'se I still had my farm an' lots back in Georgie, but day wan't
bringin' in much rent. An' I was gittin' kinda lonesome an' home-
sick to' de folks back in Nawth C'liny, so I packed up my bags an'
went back home. When I got baok to J'ackeon County, I found dat
Willie had done died 'bout a week befo' I got back. Dey wa'n't
nobody left but Jenny dat was his wife....an' her two youn'uns,
an' de baby dat her an' Willie'd had. I decided to stay wid darn
in Jackson on aocounta I had a heap o' frien's der., an' I could
take care o/ my business in A'lanta by mail 'cause I had somebody
colleotin' rent to' mt.
"I was gittint-sorta ole an' reckined I'd better make arrange.,
manta 'bout my proppity so I got me a lawyer an' we done it. My
nearest kinfolks was Willie's wife ant de chillun, T made it all
ovah to dam. I reekin kinfolks can be 'bout de meanest folks dey
is when dey take a notion. An' dat lawyer wa'n't honest, neiiater.
When dey got through wid mot I didn't have nothin' an' dey had it
all. Dat lawyer puts me in mind o' a joke I heard oneet. Somebody
seen a tombstone in a graveyard dat said: 'Here lies a lawyer; a
honest man'. Den he said, 'what dey mean by buryint two folks in
de same grave?' Dat crooked lawyer shot skint me. I didn't want
to live wid dem no longer, so I took what little I had and come to
de polhouse an' I been hare evah since.
'Day treats me nice here, nicer dan day would at home. I gits
all I wants to eat, an' when it's colds dey always builds me a fire
in my room. 'Most times, I jest sits 'round an' recollects de good
times I done had in my life. Day ain't nothin' much to' mil to de
oceptins Jest sit around an' wait to' de Lo'd to call me home. I
don't nevah have to do no work 'cause I'se 'most eighty years ole.
Dat's purty ole to be as pert as I is, ain't it.?
"1 wants to write to my frien's in Aslanta sometimes, but I'se
ashamed to let 'era know where I is, after all I used to have when I
knowed 'am. An' don't you'all write nothin' bout Am dat'll tell
'em where I is ole an' broke, down here in de County Home