A Humble Southerner

by Christina Austin-Campbell

Why are family gatherings so important? They are times to be thankful for having family together. They’re also events for everyone to learn history and culture from the older generation. My dad (James E. Austin, Sr.) was born in Maxton, North Carolina, and raised in a little area of Laurinburg called John Station. He quit school at age thirteen, worked on a farm for many years, and then married at a young age. The changes that took place in my father’s life happened during the time of segregation in the South. Daddy said, “Working on a farm here in the South made me the man I am today, and that’s a blessing.” He will always be a humble man to me.

On Sunday afternoon when my dad got home from church, he and I sat at the dining room table for the interview. Daddy attended Pedal Creek School back in 1939. He said, “All his sisters and brothers had to attend school.” The school was one room, and all the children were in that one room until they reached the sixth grade. Then they were put in another room with a different teacher. Back then schools were segregated. The white children rode the bus to school, and the black children had to walk. It was more important for him to make money than go to school, so he dropped out at age thirteen and started working on the farm with his dad and four brothers. They worked from sunup to sundown, every day -- except Sunday when everybody had to go to church.

It was 1945 when my dad dropped out of school and started working on the farm. He did all kinds of work: picked cotton, tomatoes, and corn; plowed the fields; fed the chickens and hogs; and milked and fed the cows. Everything that needed to be done, he was right there helping his father and brothers. Daddy said, “They had all their food either out the front door or the back door.” The fields had collards, cabbage, corn, sweet potatoes, butter beans, tomatoes, and okra, and there was a peanut field. In the backyard was a smokehouse full of meat. A hog was killed, cut up, and cured out at least four times a year. In addition, once a year a cow was slaughtered. When something was needed, it was outside. The only things his dad had to purchase from town were a block of ice, sugar, and coffee. Since they had no refrigerator, the food was put into an ice chest that had broken pieces of ice to keep the food cold. Dad and his brothers would dig a hole in the ground, lay dry cotton seeds in the hole, and then place the block of ice in the hole. Potatoes were done the same way. A hole had to be dug, dry pine straw was placed in the hole, potatoes next, and then a hill of dirt piled on top of the potatoes to keep them fresh. They stayed fresh almost two years.

During the fall my dad did not have much to do around the house, so he went got a job. He worked for another farmer making fifty cents a day pulling cabbage and collards and picking tomatoes. He had to pick fifty to a bunch. Meanwhile, if the boss caught someone talking, he would send that person home because he would say, “If you talk while you work, how can you get the count right?” This made sense. Back in those days two dollars and fifty cents was big money. He saved his money and bought a 1938 Ford. After working all week, he enjoyed going to the movies on Friday and Saturday nights. The location of the movie theater was the very spot where the LOF glass plant is located. His mother would always tell him to make sure not to spend all his money in one place. He paid fifteen cents to see a movie, six cents for a soda, five cents for a pack of peanuts, and sixteen cents for popcorn.

My mother and father met while working in a cotton field. He said, “That girl can pick some cotton.” Once they dated for a while, he asked her to marry him. On the day of their wedding, he kissed his bride and back to the cotton field they went. He said he married her because she picked cotton so fast. My mother and father got married on August 23, 1953; they have been married for fifty-seven years. In 1961, they moved up north to New Jersey to find work. They lived there for thirty three years and then they both retired; it was back to the South to spend the rest of their life.

My dad is seventy-eight years young, is in good health, and doesn’t mind helping others. He still works part-time five days a week and goes to church every Sunday. His motto is working, staying busy, and treating people right are what keep him alive. Children should take the time to listen to their parents and grandparents; it would help them to learn about their history and culture. It may help them to understand more of themselves; then they can grow up to be better adults. I am so proud to be the daughter of a man with such humbleness and even prouder to say, “That’s my daddy.”

Work Cited

Austin, James. Personal interview. 12 Sep. 2010.

Note: Christina Austin-Campbell, who lives in Laurinburg, is majoring in social work at Sandhills Community College where she is pursuing an associate in arts degree.

A Grandmother’s Perspective on the South

by Precious Holt

My grandmother Sheryl Chasse (age 62) has been through a lot in her lifetime. Some people may look at my grandmother and consider her “yellow” or very fair skinned. Although that may be the case, she was often subject to racial prejudice and discrimination. Fortunately she didn’t allow that to get to her and was able to develop her own mind and thoughts based on racial tolerance instead of bigotry.

Originally from the ghettos of Buffalo, New York, my grandmother’s birth mother died shortly after giving birth to her, so she became an orphan. Growing up in the ghettos of Buffalo wasn’t easy. Even though it wasn’t in the South, she was still discriminated against. Because she was fair skinned and had long, pretty hair, she didn’t fit in with the blacks, and because she was a little darker than the whites, she didn’t fit in with them either. She explained how blacks knew not to venture out of her home area, Williams Street. Everyone knew their place and never tried to break boundaries or speak out against the racial intolerance.

My grandmother was adopted at the age of nine, and she moved to an upper-class “black” area called Lynwood. Even though her adopted family was able to live in an upper-class neighborhood, they still weren’t good enough to move into a white neighborhood. She noticed that whenever a black family would move in the area, a white family would move into the suburbs. Even there she described how blacks had their own levels of classification, from the “light brights” to the “darkies.” The lighter you were, the more respected you were in the black community.

My grandmother’s adopted family taught her to be happy with where she was and to be happy that she was fair skinned and had long pretty hair. “Know your place” is a quote that she can remember her adopted parents telling her all the time. They taught her to be mistrusting of whites and to “not rock the boat too much.” She also remembers how her family looked down on other blacks depending on their financial status, skin color, or hair texture. They affiliated themselves more with the white community. Surprisingly my grandmother’s sister married a white man and so did my grandmother. They were threatened to be disowned by their own parents because they both fell in love with white men. Her adopted mother believes, “Color is everything; you could have all the money and education in the world, but if your color is too dark, then you’re a dumb nigga.”

When asked if my grandmother had been affected by any of the Jim Crow laws, she said, “Yes.” On a family trip to Florida they stopped to use the restroom and were turned away because of the color of their skin. The sign said, “No Coloreds Here,” and they had to drive several more miles just to use a restroom. When John F. Kennedy became president, the black community saw hope for them; they saw the whole Kennedy family as their savior. My grandmother stated that he was “good” for the blacks because he was helping and passing laws for their civil rights, but the whites in the South thought that he was too liberal and wanted to do “too much” for blacks. The ideas of the politicians were to keep the blacks from gaining any civil rights and that often conflicted with the ideas of Kennedy. In addition, my grandmother remembers U.S. Senator Jessie Helms stating that “all blacks are ignorant.” When Kennedy was assassinated, the black community just fell apart. My grandmother remembers that their hope and inspiration was gone. They felt that they would always be oppressed by the whites.

The South as a whole in present times is very diverse and more accepting, according to my grandmother. She believes that the South has more tolerance than before towards those who may look different than the blonde hair, blue-eyed people. As far as politics, she believes that the states are more individual and worried about their own issues instead of collectively targeting one issue. The South has come a long way from its old ways and has progressed enormously. My grandmother is most thankful for the civil rights leaders and activists who helped to mold the South into the way that it is today.

In conclusion, my grandmother has seen it all. She’s been the subject of racial prejudice and discrimination and was even taught to dislike those who didn’t look like her. Although her parents were very intolerant of those who were different, she was able to break out that cycle and base her judgments on character instead of color.

Work Cited

Chasse, Sheryl. Personal interview. 9 Sept. 2010.

Note: Precious Holt, who lives in Raeford, is a university transfer student at Sandhills Community College where she is pursuing an associate in arts degree as a member of the inaugural class of SandHoke Early College High School. She was also featured in the article “For Students at Risk, Early College Proves a Draw” in The New York Times in February 2010.

Hot Fudge Experience

by Biminii (B.J.) Heard

A wise man once said, “If you don’t know where you came from, you can never understand where you are going.” With this in mind, the interview of one of my grandmother’s younger sisters became even more meaningful. When I asked my great aunt, Emma Gillis (also known as Fudge), about the period of history best described as the Civil Rights Movement, I learned about differences in today’s society as compared to when she grew up: her memories concerning the Civil Rights Movement as well as differences in politics, world views, and family traditions.

Auntie Fudge, when asked if she seen a major difference in today’s society compared to when she was an adolescent, replied, “There is a whole heap of difference in today’s society compared to my younger days. For one we have a black president. We still see racism, but not nearly as much or as bad as when I was a young lady. I recall babysitting for a young white couple’s five-year-old son who actually called her the N-word. In my day whites and blacks didn’t live in the same neighborhoods under any circumstances.”

I asked Fudge about the Civil Rights Movement and her activity involving the movement, and her response was, “I definitely backed them in what they did with the sit-ins, the marches, and the soapbox speeches on the corners and supermarkets. I personally did not march or anything like that because I worked for and with whites. I wanted to save money so I could move away and had no idea how my boss and co-workers would react, but I do regret that I didn’t because my siblings were actively part of the movement.”

My next question was, what was the most memorable moment in civil rights history from your experience? She replied, “Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., being on the radio, speaking of racial equity and unification, was the most memorable moment for me. Then one day I heard on the same radio about the good doctor’s assassination; my stomach immediately dropped like a stone in a lake. I was at work around the same people that I felt wouldn’t understand my wanting to march for my people’s equal treatment.”

To the question of whether she can see a major difference in family values and traditions now in comparison to when she was growing up, “Yes, of course I do. Boy, what are you talking about? We had regular family reunions every other year, and y’all haven’t carried that on at all. We had big reunions where every branch of the tree was represented. Even add-ons, like if a member of our family got married, their household came and their in-laws would also attend, and this was so with everyone considered part of this family.”

Do you think that people today are more deeply rooted in traditions versus generations ago? “Nah,” my great aunt said laughing, “When we were coming up, we did everything together. I mean every detail of everyday was a family event. By my father being a minister, it was days and nights that we were the only ones at church preparing for the next service or just receiving the word itself. I even remember growing up and praying before opening Christmas presents. How’s that for traditions that you all don’t do?”

When asked about the differences between foods and the methods in which they were cooked and prepared, her response was, “Yes, there is a big difference between foods today because my father slaughtered our cows, chickens, and pigs. We caught our own fish in our lake on our property. We grew vegetables and fruits without pesticides, no hormones, all natural homegrown. We pickled a lot of our foods to preserve them. Cooking methods were different as well. We used an old cast-iron potbelly stove that my brothers had to chop wood for us to heat it with, no just walking in the kitchen when you’re hungry and whipping something up; we had to prepare ahead of time.”

Doing this assignment has reminded me of something I hadn’t thought of since my grandmother’s passing, the fact that we were from different worlds even though I am her descendent, lion of her lions, offspring of her offspring. I learned things about my great aunt that my thirty years on earth hadn’t taught me. Aunt Emma Gillis was a great candidate for my interview because her experience is priceless. She agreed to this interview only under one condition; it was, “I hope that me answering these questions can help you get a good mark on this paper.”

Work Cited

Gillis, Emma. Personal interview. 12 Sept. 2010.

Note: B.J. Heard lives in Southern Pines, NC, and is majoring in business administration at Sandshills Community College.

My Southern Hero

by Deborah S. Burris

As children, we all had our heroes. Some heroes were real, and some were fictitious heroes we watched Saturday mornings on television. Nonetheless, we cherished our heroes and loved them with all our being. Heroes give a young person someone or something to idolize. For me, that person is my grandmother, Bridget Jenkins; to this day, I still consider her my personal hero. My grandmother lived through World War II, the Civil Rights Movement, desegregation and, of course, probably the most trying—my youth. I never realized she was my hero until I grew up and learned to appreciate everything that she had gone through in order for me to flourish. I admire her for everything that she has endured and I thank her for teaching me to be who I am and not to try to be someone I am not.

My grandmother was born Bridget May Elliott on May 3, 1934. A midwife delivered her; as Granny says, “Hospitals is where you went if you had money.” She was the seventh child of nine born to my great-grandparents Matthew and Josephine Elliott. Although once she married, she and her family lived in the surrounding counties; my grandmother spent the majority of her life right here in Moore County, North Carolina. Growing up in a large family my grandmother learned the true meaning of sharing, she says. “We were by no means rich, but my papa worked at the sawmill, and my mama stayed home with us kids.” My grandmother told me she remembers that when she was small, everyone had a job—no matter how small—from taking care of the chickens to feeding the pigs to tending the garden. “We all had chores to do around the house. We grew our own food. We ate lots of vegetables, [but we] also had pigs and chickens” -- a smile formed on her face as she continued -- “a long time ago we had some ducks and guineas too.”

My granny worked around the house and helped her parents, but that was not her only job. She tells me that she was very young when she first started working, although she doesn’t give a specific age, and her first job was working in a tobacco field. “As far back as I can remember, it was handing ‘bacca at the ‘bacca barn.” My grandmother rarely uses slang during our talks. “I don’t know if there were more of them [whites] or more of us [blacks] working back then.” Grandma goes on to tell me about her education. Although her mother stayed home with the children and it was not common for young black children to get a proper education, my grandmother attended school up to the tenth grade when she met and married her first husband, my grandfather. “Most of our education we received at home from Mama. We learned the Bible first and foremost.” Being from the South, religion is a big part of who my grandmother is. She stated, “Mama read the Bible to us kids every night,” which is probably why my grandmother instilled deep religious beliefs into her children and grandchildren. Granny does not soon let us forget that we live in the Bible Belt.

I wondered what development in the American South had the greatest effect on my grandmother because she is African American. I thought for sure she would say segregation or the Civil Rights Movement; however, to my surprise, she said World War II. “It affected everybody. My oldest brother Fredrick was in the war. I had a brother over. . . .” She sank back in her seat a little and then continued, “Other than that it really didn’t affect me.” Grandma was only about five when WW II began. “Except for having a brother over there. . . I mean the war did affect everybody, but I was worried about him.” My grandmother always speaks so highly of her brother Fredrick, and I have a great respect for him, although I did not know him. I asked her if segregation had a big influence on her life. She answered with an emphatic “No.” I was surprised. Grandma Bridget straightened in her chair and then looked me directly in the eyes. “I don’t remember segregation being such a big deal like some people talk about it being. We lived in a mostly white neighborhood, but it was no big hullabaloo.” Grandma went on to explain that blacks and whites all worked together, the kids played together; at the end of the day, the blacks went to their houses, and the whites went to theirs. Listening to my grandmother, I found myself transported back in time. I could see the younger kids playing and the older ones priming tobacco.

Finally, I asked my grandmother about the most important lesson she had learned in her youth that she passed down to her children. Cocking her head to the side, she looked at me and said, “Education and common courtesy come first. Always be courteous and get your education.” Then she grinned, showing all of her teeth, and finished with, “Also, keep your mouth shut and listen. You’ll learn more that way. Y’all talk to too much; nobody just sits and listens anymore.” Heeding Grandma Bridget’s advice, I kept my mouth shut and listened as she went on to say that education is the most important goal a person can have. Although she went to only the tenth grade in high school, she later got her GED, attended college, became a nurse, and retired nearly fifteen years ago. I remember my granny being especially tough on me when I was in high school, and at the time—like any teenager—I resented it, but now that I have children of my own, I understand exactly why she did and said what she did. “Nobody can take your knowledge away from you. Once it’s in here,” she pointed to her temple, “it’s yours and nobody can ever take that way.”

At age 76, my grandmother is such a wealth of information, and I feel truly blessed that she has allowed me to share in her knowledge and, as a result, I can pass that knowledge on to my children. I can see my Southern heritage in my grandmother’s eyes when I visit, and I hear it in her voice when we talk. She is my connection to the past and the gateway to my future -- a past I have only read about in books, yet she brings it to life for me with her childhood stories. She did not live the exact same history as what we generally learn in school; her life is unique. I never realized when I was younger that the most influential person in my life was not someone most kids would think of as their hero. Growing up in the South my heroes were Bo and Luke Duke, Wonder Woman and The Six Million Dollar Man. Now that I am grown up, I realize that my grandmother has had the most positive influence on my life.

Work Cited

Jenkins, Bridget. Personal interview. 9 Sept. 2010.


Note: Deborah S. (Debbie Burris), who lives in Aberdeen, NC, is a journalism major at Sandhills Community College where she is pursuing an associate in arts degree.