OUR BLACK FRIENDS: POST #19

Between our house and Bay, and across the tracks from where we lived, there was a settlement of black families. On our side of the tracks was the graveyard for them and we had to walk right by it every time we walked to town or back from town. I was scared to death of that graveyard at night. It wasn't because they were black, it was because they were dead! I could imagine all of them rising up from those graves and trying to catch me so I walked by a little faster and tried to be as quiet as possible because I had heard Mom and Dad say that we were so noisy we could wake the dead and I certainly didn't want to do that!

I remember those families as clearly as if we were all still there today. There was 'Hay' and his family and right now I cannot remember his last name. James Davis and his family lived there too and had several kids. Hay was a mighty strong man. He was built like a brick outhouse as we often said and folks that was a strong outhouse. In spite of his muscular build he was one of the most quiet and gentle people that I have ever known. He drank a lot but he was never rowdy and loud to my knowledge. Then, there was James Davis. I have picked a lot of cotton with James Davis and his kids. Do you know what he called himself and everyone else called him that too? "N----- James." I didn't know that there was anything wrong with that then but I wouldn't call him that today. I did wonder why his kids and the others didn't go to school with us at Bay and had to ride a bus all the way to Jonesboro. When James would pick cotton he would say, "Watch them fingas, watch them fingas" and he could pick a lot of cotton. He really picked fast. His son was named Eugene but James called him Lugene. He would stand up about dinner time and yell and say, "Lugene, you want a BANONA?" He didn't say banana like we did. Lugene would say, "Ah, Hah" because he didn't say "uh, huh" like we did either. That's about all that I ever heard Eugene say was "Ah, Hah!" James lived right near the bridge that went over the Little Bay Ditch and every time it would come up a storm he would run as fast as he could, leaving his wife and kids at the house, and crawl up under that bridge. One day someone asked him what he left his family behind. I will never forget what he said: "I can get myself another wife and some mo' kids, but I can't get myself no mo' James!" One day James disappeared and to my knowledge was never heard from again. Some thought that he went to Chicago to work but we never knew. I'll bet that he got himself another wife and some mo' kids!

I cannot write about our black friends without mentioning "Big Boy" Bill Poindexter. He was equal to several men when it was time to work. So kind and good that I will not forget him. Dad went to work on the railroad as a scrawny youngster and he worked with Big Boy. Dad told me that Big Boy would tell him to go sit down and rest and Big Boy did the work for both of them until Dad could get back to work. The last conversation that I had with Dad he talked nearly all night and I finally got a pen and piece of paper and just took notes. One of the things that he talked about was his relationship with Big Boy Poindexter and how much he loved him. Before Big Boy died he was in bad health and his wife, his second one, was mean to him. Dad told me that he would go to Jonesboro, get up on Big Boys back and massage him to make him feel better. Then, he would put a belt around Big Boys waist so he could hold him up good and he would walk him around the house to get some exercise for him. Dad said that it was a sad, sad, day for him when Big Boy died. There was another black man whose name was Early Hughes that was loved by everyone around the area. One Sunday night he kind of went out of his mind and came to Bay and was out in the street yelling and hollering and waving a shotgun. Dad took us on home and came back to Bay because he thought that he could help calm Early down but when he got there Early was already dead. The town marshal got behind the theater and shot and killed him. When they got to Early his gun was not loaded. But, the marshal didn't know that. I have always thought that there could have been another way.

I am thankful for our black friends. They made life better and made Herman Junction a better place to live and they contributed to Herman Junction being well today.