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Slave Narrative of Andrew Moss

Person Interviewed: Andrew Moss Location: Knoxville, Tennessee Place of Birth: Wilkes County, Georgia Date of Birth: 1852 “One ting dat’s all wrong wid dis world today,” according to Andrew Moss, aged negro, as he sits through the winter days before an open grate fire in his cabin, with his long, lean fingers clasped over his crossed knees, “is dat dey ain no ‘prayer grounds’. Down in Georgia whar I was born,-dat was ‘way back in 1852,-us colored folks had prayer grounds. My Mammy’s was a ole twisted thick-rooted muscadine bush. She’d go in dar and pray for deliverance of de slaves. Some colored folks cleaned out knee-spots in de cane breaks. Cane you know, grows high and thick, and colored folks could hide de’seves in dar, an nobody could see an pester em.” “You see it was jes like dis. Durin’ de war, an befo de war too, white folks make a heap o fun of de colored folks for alltime prayin. Sometime, say, you was a slave en you git down to pray in de field or by de side of de road. White Marster come ‘long and see a slave on his knees. He say, ‘What you prayin’ ’bout?’ An you say, ‘Oh, Marster I’se jes prayin’ to Jesus cause I wants to go to Heaven when I dies.’ An Marster say, ‘Youse my negro. I git ye to Heaven. Git up off’n your knees.’ De white folks what owned slaves thought that when dey go to Heaven de collored folk’s would be dar to wait on em. An ef’n it was a Yank come ‘long, he...

Slave Narrative of Arrie Binns

Interviewer: Minnie Branham Stonestreet Person Interviewed: Arrie Binns Location: Washington-Wilkes, Georgia Arrie Binns lives in Baltimore, a negro suburb of Washington-Wilkes, in a little old tumbled down kind of a cottage that used to be one of the neatest and best houses of the settlement and where she has lived for the past sixty-odd years. In the yard of her home is one of the most beautiful holly trees to be found anywhere. She set it there herself over fifty years ago. She recalled how her friends predicted bad luck would befall her because she “sot out er holly”, but not being in the least bit superstitious she paid them “no mind” and has enjoyed her beautiful tree all these years. Many lovely oaks are around her house; she set them there long ago when she was young and with her husband moved into their new home and wanted to make it as attractive as possible. She is all alone now. Her husband died some years ago and three of her four children have passed on. Her “preacher son” who was her delight, died not very long ago. All this sorrow has left Aunt Arrie old and sad; her face is no longer lighted by the smile it used to know. She is a tiny little scrap of a woman with the softest voice and is as neat as can be. She wears an oldfashioned apron all the time and in cool weather there is always a little black cape around her frail shoulders and held together with a plain old gold “breastpin”. She was born in  (Georgia), her...

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