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TITLE:
SOUTH CAROLINA WRITERS' PROJECT
LIFE HISTORY
A BELATED REST
Date of First Writing February 7, 1939
Name of Person Interviewed David Brawn (Negro)
Fictitious Name Dave Thomas
Street Address 810 Tree Street
Place Columbia, S. C.
Occupation Farmer
Nam of Writer Verner Lea
Name of Reviser State Office
The house was law and rambling. Along the front ran a law
veranda, with a trellis of wistaria proudly displaying the purple
clusters that the spring -like February sun had lured from wintry
wrappings. A rustic picket fence and a gate that creaked on its
hinges enclosed a plot of green grass, rose cuttings, and a bright
red plant of flowering quince, which was in full bloom.
The creaking of the gate hinges disturbed the slumber of the
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scrawny yellow hound next door, and he yelped his grievance so that all
in the neighborhood might hear. But none in that house seemed to hear or,
if hearing, to heed the noisy remonstrance. Nor did knocking at the door
bestir any movements about the house. Only the flowers, newly worked vege-
table garden, and chickens leisurely nipping about gave evidence that this
peaceful place was tenanted.
Reluctant to allow the call to prove fruitless, I ventured into the
rear of the premises. There, seeking about among the hen's nests/was/19116
,aagierkt_objeet....0,f_,Egr_maareit,(Dave Thomas. Dave is a gray-haired Negro,
bowed under the weight of seventy years. ,A501 clad that afternoon in a
suit of gray,a gray felt hat, with only gold -rimmed spectacles to vary the
color tone, he looked the symbol of the wintry end of life. He was a neat-
ly dressed symbol, however, and one very much alive, as he moved nimbly a-
mong the nests, lustily calling his chickens, and, by way of reward for
their industry, throwing handfuls of corn among them.
As he turned and saw me, he removed his battered old gray hat and
bowed in the style of a true Southern gentleman. "Ildssus, let me get
shed of these eggs, and we'll go round to the front and set. Joe, come
here, son, and put these eggs in the house. Set 'em up on that high shelf.
Don't put 'em no place handy for that onery hound.
"I can't get about as spry as I could once, Missus. 'Reckon old age
is creepin' on me. But I can't complain. I was born in the Wateree
section of South Carolina, March 1, 1869.
"I lived on Mr. M. C. Harmon's plantation and farmed on shares. We
planted mostly cotton. But we raised corn, sweet potatoes, peas, and near
'bout everything to eat. We made fine crops, 'cept when the spring freshets
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come. We lost a many a bushel of fine corn in them freshets. But we
always had chickens and eggs and other things to sell.
'I use to bring vegetables, chickens, and eggs to Columbia every
Saturday. That was before the city had any kind of market.
"On Friday afternoon, I'd get all of my produce ready for sale the
following day. Then I'd get up before day and drive old Pete into town.
I'd go from house to house sayins, 'Fresh eggs, spring chickens, green
peas, butter beans. Just anything your appetite calls for, Dave's got it.'
I never slackened my mule's pace, nor ceased my produce chant, 'till all
wa3 sold. Then I'd buy sugar and coffee, and such as that, and take
back home.
"I remember when old man Drake, the meat man, lived in North Columbia.
He had a big mulberry tree in his front yard. He use to hang fresh meat
and hams on the limbs of that tree, then drape it with yards of link sausage.
"Them was the days before people had refrigerators, and that mulberry
tree served as his meat market. The only way people got ice then was to
buy it from a wagon that went all 'round town, with the driver ringing a
bell. Mr. Drake would sit on a box, lean up against that tree, smoke his
pipe and doze, stil he'd hear a wagon or a buggy rattlin' down the road.
Then Jute, a Negro boy that he hired, would start ringing a bell to advertise
their goods. Mr. Drake was a good business man. They tell me he made plenty
money in them days. That sane family been in the meat market business for
generations.
"It's jus' down right uncanny to me, how times have changed. dhen
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I first remember Columbia, there wasn't fifteen two-story buildings on
Main Street. I knew all of the old families in town. The English home
stood right where you see Allen University now. The Arthur home was right
across from there. Wasn't nothing in that section then but woods. My
father was emancipated from the English family. He was their coachman
all durin' slavery times. And he never voted anything but the democratic
ticket.
"When I first come of age, I went to Sumter County and worked on the
farm of Mr. Frank Lucas. I didn't stay there long, though; I liked around
Camden better. So I went on back to that section of the Wateree.
"We had big times in them days. On the west side of the Wateree, the
game was plentifyl. We could hunt and fish a great deal. I use to take
people from Columbia huntin'. We mould hunt duck, turkey, and deer, and
one time we went bear huntin'. One day I took Mr. Whit Boykin and a
friend of his from Camden. They killed a crocus sackful of quail in one
day. They had fine bird dogs, and I always kept good dogs, too. People
hear about me from all over the State and come and get me to take 'em
huntin'.
"One day I was settin' on the bank a-fishint. I met up with a
white man, name Mr. Bobo, and a Negro. We decided to go to the swamp,
huntin'. First thing we know, the dog had treed a coon up a hollow tree.
We couldn't climb that tree. So Mr. Bobo climbed a tree right next to
it. He reached out and shook the limb the coon was on. Instead of jumpin'
out of the tree, that coon lit right dawn the hollow and comnitted suicide.
Yes, sir, when we found him his neck was broke. First time I ever see a
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coon jump in, 'stead of out of a tree.
"I use to set fox traps and bait 'em with burned sweet potato. That's
the best fox bait there is. Lots of tines the fox would just uncover the
traps and steal the bait. A fox is one of the hardest animals to catch,
and none is as sly or as wild. They use to be powerful bad about catchin'
our chickens on the plantation.
"Yarse Harmon use to tell me I could do more with hound dogs, goats,
and mules than anybody. Said I had a may of persuasion, when they'd get
contrary and stubborn, that he didn't have. He said a white man never
could get as close to a hound dog as a nigger could."
The father of eleven children and one grandchild. Dave's pride and
utter satisfaction was manifested in speaking of his family. His expres-
sion was illuminating to gaze upon as he sat and recalled bygone days.
"I got the best wife a man was ever blessed with. If I ever lose her,
I don't aim to ever take another.
"While me and Maria was a-courtin', a young bigoty mulatto come
over in our settlement. He made it his business to cut in on me and my
girl. Maria just give me the cold shoulder. She jus' fell for his sly
glances, city ways, and big talk. At tines, I'd most grieve my heart out.
I wanted to marry Maria more than anything I ever wanted in my life. So
I jus' set and study and bide my time, while she was out gallivantin'
around with this furriner. One day a couple of my friends come to me and
said they'd fix that bastard's hash. They invited him to go huntin' with
them the followin' Saturday night.
"I went on down to the swamp ahead of them. I set down on a log to
wait. Finally I heard voices. They keep comm' a little closer. Soon
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I see it was time for me to grab my nigger. What I mean,I grabbed him,
too. He scowled at me and showed his teeth in a wicked grin, sane as a
'possum. He drawed back his fist to hit me. But his aim was as crooked
as he was. When I got through with him, I reckon he figured a wild cat must
to jumped out of a tree and lit on him.
said: 'As nigger to nigger, if the sun rises on your ashy hide in
this section again,it will be jus' too bad.' Then give him a kick and
turned him loose in the wateree Swamp. Whether he ever lived to get out
I don't know. What's more, I never bothered my head about it. All I
know is that I made it so unhealthy for him, it didn't take him long to make
tracks for some place else.
'Maria thought for a long time that he jus' up and desert her. Then
she lost all respect for him and said she was glad to get shed of him. I
didn't tell her what happened to that nigger for a long time. Not 45.1 I
got her back, anyhow.
'We and Maria been married forty years. We had big times in the old
days. We had old time square dances every daturday night. I would call
the figures and pat. I mean them boys that made the music could sho' make
a fiddle and a guitar talk. Them was good days.
"I remember well when Hampton was elected governor. I saw the torch-
light parade of the Red Shirts. One in the parade give me a red shirt, and
I wore it on the farm.
"when I first moved to Columbia, I got a job as
janitor at the
National Loan and Exchange Bank, where I worked for fifteen years. Three
years before built, I paid a hundred dollars for the land where this house
stands: I built my uouse fifteen years ago. I made a down payment, then
paid so much each month. I have seven rooms, lights, and water. All
but two of the houses on this street are awned by Negroes.
'Five of my oldest children are in New York. All have good jobs and
a high school education. The girls have government employment. Two sons
are employed at the shipyard. Two of the boys at home serve as caddies at
Forest Lake golf course after school hours. My baby daughter goes to the
North Carolina mountains every summer and serves as maid. If I do say it,
she is a smart girl. She takes pride in her work and goes up against any-
thing with courage and confidence. She is eighteen years old.
"Me and Maria was raised in the same community and went to the country
school. The children in our days didn't have the same advantages that they
have this day and time. Mine don't pass any opportunity by. They are in-
dustrious and eager to learn.
"MS and my wife never had any trouble with our children. 'Course the
boys give a little trouble, jug' like all boys; but the girls are nice, and
never have give us any trouble or worry. All of 'ern are good to me and their
ma. Everytime they get paid they send us part.
"My oldest son is the only one ever married, and his wife is dead.
He's been after my wife for a long time to cone to New York and see him.
He says he'll pay her way and show her all the sights. But she says that's
too far away from home. So he's planning to come down here for a spell this
summer. My baby daughter wants to go back with him, but I can't let all the
children leave.
"I can't get about much now. I go out in the garden and piddle around
a little. Feed my chickens and such. That's about all the exercise get.
CT late, 'seem like rheumatism is settled in my joints. I never go up town,
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'cept on business.
'I went to see rresident Roosevelt when he was here. I also went
to Governor Maybank's inauguration. We are members of the Second Calvary
Baptist Church. But I can't even get out to meetin' often.
'Now my wife is right smart younger than I am. She gets about pretty
good. She goes out and cleans house for a lady two days out of each week.
"I enjoy my friends, and have a right smart of company. Two of the boys
in the neighborhood come by every Saturday night and give me a little concert.
One plays the fiddle and one the guitar. To hear'em sing and play and pat
their feet brings back old times. I've got good neighbors, and all of 'em
seem to think a heap o' me."
This remark was strikingly demonstrated among young and old as they
passed Dave's home. Each with a cordial greeting to this old man.
Now after a period of more than three score years, Dave Thomas is
taking a belated rest. In the sanctity and security of his home, life is
peaceful and quiet, with glowing memories of happy days spent in the wateree
section of South Carolina.