David Dollar Black and White Portrait

Podcast

Memories Podcast

Katheryne Dollar, director of the Retired Senior Volunteer Program in association with the Natchitoches Area Action Association arranged interviews with senior citizens around the parish. The interviews were conducted between 1971 and 1974 by David Dollar. Recordings were originally aired on KNOC Radio.

Episodes

72. Louis Nardini

Transcript

Dan Benuska: Today we travel back in time with Mr. Louis Nardini, or BB Nardini as he is more commonly known to his friends in Natchitoches. Mr. Nardini is the author of two books, My Historic Natchitoches, and No Man's Land, The Story of El Camino Real from Natchitoches to San Antonio. We'll be right back with Mr. Nardini after this message from Peoples Bank, our sponsor.

Mr. Nardini, welcome to Memories. Could you tell us a little bit about yourself, when you were born?

Louis Nardini: Well, now I was born February 10, 1914, and I've spent all my life here in Natchitoches.

Dan Benuska: Where were you born in Natchitoches?

Louis Nardini: Well, I was born on Sibley Street, at least that's where my house was then.

Dan Benuska: Can you tell me when did the Nardinis come to Natchitoches?

Louis Nardini: They came to Natchitoches... The first Nardini Rayfield Nardini, Sr. Came to Natchitoches about 1846. Now he and his marriage... it gives... his parents came, well, in island of Catania, Italy.

Dan Benuska: Why did he come over here?

Louis Nardini: Well, he came over here. He was engaged to Soldini. He had to work for him four years to pay for his passage over here, and after four years he was clear.

Dan Benuska: What kind of work did he do for Soldini?

Louis Nardini: He was a cabinet maker and a furniture maker, and also a bricklayer. Dan Benuska: For those people that don't know who Soldini is, could you perhaps just say a word?

Louis Nardini: Yeah. Soldini was a man, the contractor that come in that it was backed by Trezzini to a certain extent, and he built some of the houses like the Dunkelman house and the LeMay house, and I believe the home that Sadie Taylor lives in. I'm not sure about that one.

Dan Benuska: What did your, I guess, great-grandfather or grandfather-

Louis Nardini: Grandfather. He was my grandfather.

Dan Benuska: What did he do after he worked as a cabinet maker for Soldini?

Louis Nardini: Well, he went in the business for himself, then. And, of course, all he got from all his labor. He also was able to swing with the times in Natchitoches. It established a grist mill. He actually bought a steamboat. It was sunk, and he got that boiler out of it and the machinery out of it, and he had a grist mill here in Natchitoches.

Dan Benuska: What time in history are we talking about?

Louis Nardini: We are talking about now about the 1870s. And then, well, he did gin stay work, certain amount of blacksmith work, and then mostly his business was in bricklaying. That was about the time a lot of brick work was done around Natchitoches, and I have one brick that came off of the Vienna plantation where they built houses for what was slaves at first and then later on is sharecroppers.

Dan Benuska: That's a memory for you then?

Louis Nardini: Yeah, it's a memory for me because one brick after he lay all the bricks, the last brick that he put out on the top of the chimney, he wrote Nardini on it.

Dan Benuska: That's quite a souvenir.

Louis Nardini: And I have one of those bricks.

Dan Benuska: Now, you told me also that you were related to the Bloodworths.

Louis Nardini: The Bloodworths-

Dan Benuska: And a story about a levy. Can you tell me about the Bloodworth Levy?

Louis Nardini: The Bloodworth Levy was Alfred Bloodworth. Now his mama was Ann Bloodworth. They own that property now, which is known as Northwestern State College campus. And the old lady, Ann, the original, the widow of James Bloodworth, Sr., came here to Natchitoches in 1820, and in 1830, her son... She was living up there what we known as the Bullard house. It's really the old Ann Bloodworth house. Bullard, all he did after he got into it— I'll get into that later— was build some rooms on the side of it, but that is an old Ann Bloodworth home.

Dan Benuska: Where was the levy?

Louis Nardini: The levy was right down on Mill Street. Now every time someone crosses that levy, they owe somebody something.

Dan Benuska: When was the levy completed?

Louis Nardini: It was completed in 1830

Dan Benuska: And there was, you said a toll levy?

Louis Nardini: It was a toll levy. Instead of having a bridge there, this was a toll levy. Everyone going across that, the people who walked across had to pay a penny and then it graduated up. I think you could cross anything for 15 cents, but all that is on records at the courthouse of how he got permission to build a levy. The size of the levy at water level was 40 feet, and at the top of it was 20 feet across.

Dan Benuska: What can you see of the levy there now?

Louis Nardini: The levy is Mill Street, that part of Mill Street where College Avenue ends and you go around.

Dan Benuska: Okay.

Louis Nardini: That is the levy today. There should be a marker there because it's a hundred and something years old now. Now, for example, Alfred Bloodworth had a son, Mack Bloodworth, who lived at Grand Ecore... who later he lived at Grand Ecore. Now everybody crossing that, the city didn't buy that road from him, and they started the procedure of buying it, but they only paid down so much and they never completed the sale. So everyone crosses that levy owes [unintelligible 00:06:11] in Campti. [unintelligible 00:06:13] she's the son of Moses Alfred Bloodworth... daughter of Moses Alfred Bloodworth. They owe her money for crossing that street now.

Dan Benuska: That's something that no one knows about. Let me interrupt you at this time, and we'll have a word from Peoples Bank, our sponsor. Again, this is Dan Benuska and we are talking with Mr. Louis or BB Nardini as he is known, on Memories. Mr. Nardini, one of the things that you told me, some very interesting information about some of the early laws in Natchitoches. Some of those laws were the early pollutants laws. Could we talk about those for a bit?

Louis Nardini: Well, that's a point there. That early pollutants law is this. We didn't even know we had a word such as pollutants back there then.

Dan Benuska: When was this?

Louis Nardini: But it is a pollutants law, and it's written pollutant, and that was in 1816, and it concerned the privies in Natchitoches. All those people would build their privies over ditches, and then when the rain came, it would flush it all down to the lower end of the ditch. Now, one in particular was this ditch that was formed between Second and Third Street. The ditch is still there, but all people up above, living up above built their homes over the privy. Now it all went down Horn Street during the rain.

Dan Benuska: So that Horn Street wasn't a good place to live?

Louis Nardini: Horn Street was a drainage ditch.

Dan Benuska: Right.

Louis Nardini: And of course that was right in the business section of town then, what was business section. Horn Street was bridged in several places and then it had an odor about it, naturally.

Dan Benuska: Right. You mentioned that the privies were sometimes called Louis the 14th.

Louis Nardini: Louis the 14th, the house of Louis the 14th.

Dan Benuska: Can you say why? Tell us why?

Louis Nardini: That goes back earlier. When the people first came into the area in 1700, and a little bit earlier and so on up while they were stuck here, boats gone. They had to root hog or die then, and the only way they could get back at the king was called it the little outhouse, the house of Louis the 14th.

Dan Benuska: Right. One of the things that you told me was about a soldier that had come to town with some money and really-

Louis Nardini: That's another pollutants law [unintelligible 00:08:52]. Now he had $85 on him.

Dan Benuska: What year was this?

Louis Nardini: That was a little bit later on. That was about in the 1830s.

Dan Benuska: Okay.

Louis Nardini: Now he came to Natchitoches, got drunk, I guess. Anyway, he was drowned in [inaudible 00:09:14]. Well, the judge then decided they had to bury this man, and so anyway, his bill come to the actual cash he had $85. To get him out, and they fined him for polluting the stream.

Dan Benuska: For dying in the stream-

Louis Nardini: Dying in the stream, polluting it, and they fined him for it, and that's what the charges were against, and naturally he was guilty of it. He didn't know it, but he was guilty of it. Then there were several about the area that died in this area, not knowing where the people come from or what they had on them. You could get a $14 lawsuit or a $60 lawsuit or a $2 lawsuit, whatever cash you had, that's what they took, and then it was brought in the court, then they buried you.

Dan Benuska: Could you tell me... You mentioned an interesting story about a man who was fined $25.

Louis Nardini: That was one of the Prudhommes down Cane River was racing his horse up what is now Jefferson Street coming into Front Street because Natchitoches always had a front street, see, and he was fined $25 because his traffic could hurt someone. He could run over a dog or something like that. On the same bill, on the same page in that book at the courthouse in the sheriff's business, as a fellow killed another, he was fined two and a half.

Dan Benuska: So if a man killed somebody-

Louis Nardini: So if a man had run across someone and killed him, his fine would've been less than it would've been if he had just been caught for speeding.

Dan Benuska: Mr. Nardini. I see we're running quickly out of time. We have about one minute, and you mentioned something to me about a famous tree in Natchitoches. Could you tell briefly about that?

Louis Nardini: The old live oak tree there in Natchitoches, it's at the corner of Second and St. Denise Street. Now that tree there used to be back there when I was a kid, and maybe before that, was just a meeting place for people and someone come into town or something while they could just stand around by that old oak tree and sooner or later who they were looking for would pass that. It was kind of a rendezvous oak.

Dan Benuska: So that old oak tree is the oldest thing in Natchitoches.

Louis Nardini: The oldest thing in Natchitoches, I believe.

Dan Benuska: Well, let's end at that point. If you're looking for something that reaches far back in history, go stand under the old oak tree. Mr. Nardini, thank you for being on Memories, and I look forward to having you back again. We would like to close each Memories program with information that might be of particular value to the senior citizens. This information is in terms of making a will. A will aids in estate planning, so as to help you escape excessive estate taxes. Plan on making your own will. If you have any further questions about this matter, talk to the folks at Peoples Bank. They'll be glad to help you out. I have a personal favor to ask of you. If you like Memories, call the people at Peoples Bank, or better yet, stop by and talk to them personally.

If you're over 60 and you have some memories you'd like to share with your friends in Natchitoches, call Peoples Bank 352-6404 or 352-8343. You can also call direct to KNOC 352-9596 or the retired senior volunteer office at 352-8647.

Dan Benuska interviews Louis Nardini about growing up in Natchitoches, his family, the Bloodworth Levy, early laws in the area, fining a dead man for pollution, and the oldest tree in Natchitoches.

71. Lou Robertson

Transcript

Hubert Laster: Good morning. This morning on the Memories Program, we're going to be visiting with one of our most senior, senior citizens, Lou Robertson. We'll be back in just a moment after a word from our sponsor. Good morning. You've just joined us. We're about to visit with Mama Lou Robertson. She is a wonderful lady. How old are you?

Mama Lou Robertson: I was born 18 and 73, January the first.

Hubert Laster: That makes you how old now?

Mama Lou Robertson: I'll be four years old at this coming new year.

Hubert Laster: Four years old, like a car you're going to start over at over a 100000 miles. 104 years old. And, you're a good woman.

Mama Lou Robertson: Good [inaudible 00:00:46]. Ask all these nurses what I is, they'll tell you.

Hubert Laster: Where were you born?

Mama Lou Robertson: I was born in Montgomery, Louisiana. That's my native home.

Hubert Laster: I see. And, who was the family that you lived on their property?

Mama Lou Robertson: Hat Gray and Martin Gray. But my daddy wasn't Martin Gray. My daddy was a Collier. He was a white man.

Hubert Laster: I see.

Mama Lou Robertson: I never did see him, but I knowed his sister and his brother, but I never did see him. He got killed at a coffee house in New Orleans.

Hubert Laster: In a coffee house in New Orleans?

Mama Lou Robertson: Yes, sir.

Hubert Laster: Is that a bad place?

Mama Lou Robertson: I don't know, sir.

Hubert Laster: Okay.

Mama Lou Robertson: I don't know what he'd done, but they upped and killed him.

Hubert Laster: Tell me about growing up, what you remember about when you were a child. What did y'all do?

Mama Lou Robertson: What job was...

Hubert Laster: What did you do when you... You grew up on a plantation-

Mama Lou Robertson: Well, when I was 10 years old, mama started me to cooking. My mama started me to cooking and I'd cook. I can cook. I'm a good cook, but I can't read and I can't write. But, I'm naturally a good cook.

Hubert Laster: Naturally?

Mama Lou Robertson: Naturally a good cook.

Hubert Laster: You were talking about buying your own land?

Mama Lou Robertson: Yes, sir.

Hubert Laster: How did you do that?

Mama Lou Robertson: I took the money out of my pocket.

Hubert Laster: How did you earn the money?

Mama Lou Robertson: The governor was paying me.

Hubert Laster: The governor?

Mama Lou Robertson: Yes, sir.

Hubert Laster: Paying you money for what?

Mama Lou Robertson: Well, I was living, live on. And my washing and ironing bought the lumber and stuff and paid for my house. I didn't take the government money to pay for my home. I took it out of mine. I was washing and ironing.

Hubert Laster: What did you do with the government money?

Mama Lou Robertson: I live on it, eat on it.

Hubert Laster: Oh, I see.

Mama Lou Robertson: That's what they give it to me for.

Hubert Laster: Oh, I see.

Mama Lou Robertson: Well, I got governor money here. There's two checks at this office up here, and I don't get nothing but just... Now, I have to sign to get four bits. I sign to get four bits and I got two checks. Well, my old folks pension check before I left home was $100, and they done raised my social security and raised my old folks pension checks since I've been up here.

Hubert Laster: When you bought your land in Montgomery, how much did it cost you an acre?

Mama Lou Robertson: $10, one acre, one acre.

Hubert Laster: $10? And, how much did your house cost you?

Mama Lou Robertson: $500.

Hubert Laster: Didn't you tell me about the man that built the house, what he said about you?

Mama Lou Robertson: Yes, sir.

Hubert Laster: Would you repeat that please?

Mama Lou Robertson: Well, I'll tell you, I bought the lumber and I bought the land, and I paid for my house with washing and ironing. I washed for a heap of people, and I could do some nice washing and ironing.

Hubert Laster: Is that right?

Mama Lou Robertson: Yes, sir.

Hubert Laster: What did you use for starch?

Mama Lou Robertson: Starch?

Hubert Laster: Starch. How did you starch the clothes?

Mama Lou Robertson: I made starch and starched them, and let them dry and ironed them.

Hubert Laster: How did you make the starch?

Mama Lou Robertson: Put on a pot and let the water boil, and pour the starch in that and stirred it up.

Hubert Laster: Have you ever heard of using flour for starch?

Mama Lou Robertson: Yes, sir.

Hubert Laster: How do you do that?

Mama Lou Robertson: You take that flour and you mix it up good, and let that water boil and pour it. Pour it in there and just stir it until it gets thick as you want it, and then you quit.

Hubert Laster: Do you put grease in it or anything?

Mama Lou Robertson: No sir, I don't put grease in it.

Hubert Laster: The one lady was telling me you put grease in it.

Mama Lou Robertson: I didn't never put no grease.

Hubert Laster: Well, I believe you.

Mama Lou Robertson: I never did put no grease.

Hubert Laster: You said that you cooked.

Mama Lou Robertson: Yes sir, I'm a good cook.

Hubert Laster: Did you ever work for anybody as a cook?

Mama Lou Robertson: I cook for ladies. I just worked, you know, when they'd call me. The old lady would be sick and her daughter would call me to cook for them, and the daughter say, ain't that nice.

Cooked greens, I can cook greens, and make anybody eat them. Snap beans, I can make anybody eat them. But, these snap beans and greens here, you can't eat them.

Hubert Laster: Is that right? Is it bad food?

Mama Lou Robertson: We never got no meat for dinner.

Hubert Laster: You'd eat a lot of greens? Do you eat collard greens?

Mama Lou Robertson: I eat all kinds of greens, but they got to be cooked right. There ain't no grease cooked in them greens. There ain't no grease cooked in them butter beans. There ain't no grease put in them peas.

Hubert Laster: You're talking about bacon grease?

Mama Lou Robertson: No kind of grease.

Hubert Laster: Yeah, but to make them good, you put bacon grease in them.

Mama Lou Robertson: They don't put no kind of grease in them. The water, just as clear. It's just that greens what makes that water green, and that, potatoes, I add grease and all that liquor.

Hubert Laster: Could you give me your recipe for greens? How do you make greens if you were going to make them?

Mama Lou Robertson: I take some meat, and let that meat boil.

Hubert Laster: Salt and meat?

Mama Lou Robertson: Let it boil good, half fat and half lean. Put that in, and let it boil good. And, I put some moisture in my greens, nice and clean. I put them in there and let them cook, and I don't cook no water in them. I cook them dry.

Hubert Laster: And, how much grease?

Mama Lou Robertson: I put a piece of meat in there.

Hubert Laster: Oh, and that gives the grease off?

Mama Lou Robertson: Yes, sir. I don't put the grease. I put some meat in them.

Hubert Laster: It takes a long time to cook, doesn't it?

Mama Lou Robertson: Yes, sir.

Hubert Laster: But, it's worth it?

Mama Lou Robertson: That's what I'm talking about. That stuff, I'm telling you.

Hubert Laster: I believe you.

Mama Lou Robertson: Yes.

Hubert Laster: We need to take a break right now, and we'll be back in just a moment.

If you've just joined us, we're visiting with Mama Lou Robertson. Tell me about your mother. You said she was a doctor.

Mama Lou Robertson: She sure was a doctor. There's one man that called her, him and his wife called my mother, and told her to come, that the baby was sick and it wouldn't nurse the breast, and come and see what she could do for it. Mama said, well, if you let me do, give it what I want to give it, I'd had her suck before I get the oil in it. Mama give it to Calma, and she went to work. She said, I'll give it oil when I come back. And the baby was nursing when mama come back to get the baby, it's oil, help her sleep. He said, but look here. Same [inaudible 00:08:17], and that's a good doctor.

Hubert Laster: And what did she give the baby now?

Mama Lou Robertson: Calma.

Hubert Laster: What were some of her other medicines that she gave people?

Mama Lou Robertson: Well, for your back and your head, she would take, tell the truth. She'd take camphor and turpentine, and put those brown peas to reach back here, slam down to the end of your back.

Hubert Laster: From your neck all the way to the end of your back.

Mama Lou Robertson: And when you'd be there a minute or two, your backache would be gone. Your head, she'd take brown paper, put the pepper on it and black pepper and put it back in your neck and it'll gone.

Hubert Laster: Just go away. Just like that.

Mama Lou Robertson: Yes sir. And my son, I don't care how bad you had a hiccup. My oldest son, Tory Johnson, he was in a band. A preacher had a hiccup three weeks, night and day. He couldn't sleep with hiccup. I said, Reverend, I said, what's the matter with you? I've been had this hiccup for three weeks, night and day I can't sleep. I said, well, my son can kill that little known thing.

He said, well, I wish you'd tell him. But I called him. He come, come to the bed. He says, Reverend, what's the matter? Says, I've got the hiccup so bad. He just hiccup-in. He said, hand me your hand. He handed him his hand. He stood up there. He got his hand, said “where are the hiccups?” Said, “I ain't got none.” See, and they will have no more.

Hubert Laster: Did your mother teach your son to do this?

Mama Lou Robertson: Huh?

Hubert Laster: Did your mother teach the son to do this? Yeah.

Mama Lou Robertson: Don must have taught him. My children was Christians, but they died.

Hubert Laster: Was your mother a Christian?

Mama Lou Robertson: All of them. My stepfather and all.

Hubert Laster: How did she acquire this knowledge of medicine?

Mama Lou Robertson: I reckon the Lord showed it to her. Well, they had me in the hospital. In Natchitoches, for the arthritis. I couldn’t use this hand and I couldn't walk. And they kept me in there six weeks, and they discharged me. I couldn't walk or use this hand, but I went home. I had a dream, said, get you some doctor's tissues, antiseptic, and pat it, wet your hand, pat it on them joints and said, you'll get all right. I'm done sure. So I didn't know to go back to the doctor no more. I cured myself. Well, that and the Lord showed me what to get.

Hubert Laster: Is everyone in your family like this?

Mama Lou Robertson: Yes, sir. I converted my daughter next to my oldest daughter on her sick bed. Her husband, she was with a baby. The husband kicked her in the side and the doctor had to take it and he brought it to my house, brought her to my house, and the doctor told him to tell me to put her feet and leg in some hot water, hot as she could bear, and bathe and put her to bed.

And he said, "No, you ain't going to put her to bed." I said, "Who?" I said, "This is my child." I said, "Ain't no care in the unit. That's your wife. I think she'll never get out of here until the Lord take her." And so after he left, he said, she said, "Mama." I said, "what is it baby?" She said, "I don't want to go to hell when I die." I said, "Well, if you repeat the words that I pray for you, you'll get religious this evening." But I went to praying for her. She must have had a bond right on the Lord. I prayed and I prayed. I got my prayer and I was walking out the door praying.

She said, "Oh mama.” I said, “what is it, baby?” She said, “come here. I got something to tell you." She said, "Look at my hands. My hands don't look like they used to look. Said when my eyes is close to death, I'm going home to rest." I says, "Thank God."

Hubert Laster: Ms. Robertson, we've enjoyed visiting with you and if there's any way possible, I'll be back again to visit with you again.

If you would like to make a tape recall, please, the Retired Citizens Volunteer Program at 352-8647. This is Hubert Laster, wishing you all a very pleasant day.

Hubert Laster interviews Lou Robertson about growing up in Montgomery, her father’s death in New Orleans, buying land at $10 an acre, cleaning laundry and cooking for a living, her recipe for greens, and her mother’s work as a doctor.

70. Lou Ivy pt. 2

Transcript

Hubert Laster: Good morning. This morning on the Memories Program, we're going to have a return visit from Mrs. Lou Ivy. We'll be back in just a moment after a word from our sponsor.

Good morning to you. This morning, Mrs. Lou Ivy from Coldwater has graciously consented to tell us a little bit more about her life. Because her last tape was so excellent, we've come back again. Tell me about when you were growing up, what you used to do for pastime and work time.

Mrs. Lou Ivy: Well, we didn't have any pastime except on Sunday or when we had company, because there's work to do all the time. My stepmother was in awful bad health and I had a new baby brother or sister about every two years. I used to say she had the children and I had to tend to them.

I was the oldest one of the children, and my sister was younger than me. She didn't have no patience. And she had one of the children and would tend to it, rocking it. Where she'd pinch it or something, make it cry and I'd have to take it.

And the way I studied my spelling, I'd get the rocking chair and that baby in my lap and I'd rock and spell the word and make a song out of it. Sing it to put it to sleep. And when I got ready to work my arithmetic... It wasn't called math then, it was arithmetic... I'd sew on the floor, this old wooden floor. You could see the chickens through the cracks. And put the baby between my legs that way and put my paper and pencil out here and do my math or English if I had any diagramming. Or write a story from a picture, whatever I had to do, and hold the baby.

Hubert Laster: How many cows did you used to milk a day?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: Each morning, each night, milked from seven to fifteen cows.

Hubert Laster: What kind of cows? That's a lot of milk, isn't it?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: No, it's not a lot of milk because they were beef cattle type. They didn't give much milk. They were [inaudible 00:02:31] cows and you had to take a pole to beat them to get a cup of milk from each cow. Of course, we had more milk than we could use. And milk we didn't use, I'd give to neighbors, hands was on the place. Pop always worked a couple of half hands and a monthly hand. Well, we'd give milk to our neighbors and then give it to the chickens, the hogs, whatever.

Hubert Laster: Bunch of well-fed animals, I suppose. You built a chimney or you know how to build a chimney.

Mrs. Lou Ivy: I helped build, I don't know... Five, I know of. I remember helping build five.

Hubert Laster: How do you build a chimney?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: Well, you cut a place out, not quite as wide as those two windows. I'd say those windows is two foot, that's four foot. You'd cut a place outside the wall about, oh, I reckon five-foot high. And then in the floor you'd come out. We always made a big hearth. Some people say hearth, some hearth. I don't know which is proper. And then we'd build a box where they cut this out under the house and fill it up with dirt and rocks and fix it slightly back that way.

And then we'd get [inaudible 00:04:13] pine posts that's taller than the house, about two or three foot taller than the house, and put outside there. And have four of them, one on each side nailed to the wall. And then posts holding them put the other two out there. And then we'd cut a tree down and make boards, because we didn't go to sawmill and buy boards because there weren't many sawmills around. We'd split our own board. And after we'd fill this box up with dirt, Pop would take the wagon and go to what we'd call chimney dirt. Just any dirt won't make a chimney. You have to go to a kind of pin-oak swamp and get that kind of dirt. And then he'd make a big box and work it up that we'd all get in there with our feet barefooted and work that dirt up.

And have moss. He'd go to the moss hills and get the moss and bring, and got that dirt worked up. You'd get that moss and a big double, a handful of that wet dirt. Mix up moss in it, make it a cone shape. It wasn't hardly, you couldn't call it a loaf of bread. And they were called cats. These things that she made the chimney. These sticks then, that we had rived out of pines, oak, whatever was handy for us to nail them to these posts and lay these cats over these sticks like that. And to keep it going on up until you got it to the top with the cats.

Hubert Laster: Okay. You'd have to put rocks in it, right?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: No, you didn't put no rocks in it.

Hubert Laster: No rocks at all?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: No, it just had moss. And if you couldn't get the moss, I have helped build them with hay before it was cured.

We'd always build a fireplace in the house, a way out. Saw up a log, and we always built a big fireplace. So we'd now cut such small wood and make it slanting. And so if we'd go to bed at night, the logs wouldn't roll back on the floor.

And we'd go to bed with a good fire and next morning we'd have plenty of big coals there, and get in our kindling wood at night and just put on the kindling and blow. You had to be saving matches back then. And each one of the children had their certain evenings to do up the kindling and get the wood in on the porch.

And I never did tell my children but the first time what to do. And if they happened to forget it, I'd go their said time. If it happened to be Leroy's time to get up the kindling, I'd go wake him up and he had to go out in the deep frost or some snow and get the kindling and bring it in next morning. And believe me, they'd never forget it but one time.

Hubert Laster: So that's how you make a chimney? I didn't know. I'm glad you told me.

Mrs. Lou Ivy: And build a fire back in there, you see, out of the house. The fire wasn't in the house, but the heat, you know, come back in the house. And you've heard mantle boards where it was always put a shelf over the top. And if you didn't have a big grandfather's clock, you had them big striking clocks and they'd sit on the mantle. And people didn't have living rooms then. That big room, the fireplace room they called it then, was so big they had two beds in the, what we called a living room.

Hubert Laster: So it was a living room and bedroom?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: Bedroom.

Hubert Laster: I see.

Mrs. Lou Ivy: Besides the other bedrooms.

Hubert Laster: We need to take a break right now and we'll be back momentarily. In case you just joined us, we're visiting with Mrs. Lou Ivy down Coldwater way. We were talking before about how to make a chimney. Now my next question to you is how do you make sure that the smoke doesn't come back into the house?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: Only way I could explain that is it's narrow at the top and it's going up. And I guess it just wouldn't turn and come back. I couldn't tell you that.

Hubert Laster: It's wide at the bottom, then?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: A whole lot wider at the bottom. And it goes up.

Hubert Laster: How much above the rooftop did the chimney-

Mrs. Lou Ivy: About three feet above the rooftop. Most people would build it and they'd gable in. And after that it had to be a taller chimney. But in later years, the last few chimneys were built it on the side and didn't have to [inaudible 00:10:08]

Hubert Laster: What about things falling into the chimney? Did you have anything to catch it?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: No. I didn't know was you needing. We never had no trouble.

Hubert Laster: Well, I don't guess you needed it then. You were talking about a Model T hood?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: Yeah, we'd always, if we could find one, we'd put it inside the chimney so that when you throw the stick of wood in, that wouldn't gouge a little hole in the dirt.

And we'd always have to cure the chimney before we could build a big fire in it. And curing it is keeping a little slow, slow fire in it for several days. And where it wouldn't dry out fast.

Hubert Laster: I see.

Mrs. Lou Ivy: Bake in that.

Hubert Laster: These chimneys that you build like you're talking about, once they're cured, are they hard like brick?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: Yeah, they're hard like brick. If you just put them big sticks of wood in there and throw them in, it wouldn't bust the chimney. I had them without these Model T hoods in them. And once in a great while we'd have to patch it in summer, a little hole maybe or something. But they were...

Hubert Laster: They were all right?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: They were all right.

Hubert Laster: Good.

Well, right before you went to bed at night... Changing the subject... What did you do for pastime? Or was there any time?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: Yeah, we always had time because after dark we couldn't do much outside. And in the fall and the wintertime, we'd always gather plenty of hickory nuts and walnuts and burst them before dark. Have a big pan, sit around the fire and eat hickory nuts. Or we'd have parched peanuts. And in the summertime we'd play games like with corn or peas, play hull-gull or draw pictures or rigging-

Hubert Laster: What's hull-gull?

Mrs. Lou Ivy: Everybody'd have so many grains of corn or peas. And say like you give them twenty-five, and I'd put one or two or three, whatever went into my hand. And I'd say "hull-gull," like we was playing to you and you'd say, "How many?"

No, let me see. What you would say, I'd have peas or corn and a great pinch of corn in my hand, and I'd say, "How many?" to you. And you'd tell me. If I had five in my hand, you would say seven, well, you'd have to give me two.

And if I'd had ten in my hand and you said four, well you'd have to give me six. And the one that used up all the corn first, the one that had the most corn when we quit playing, won the game. Most of the grains of corn.

Hubert Laster: It sounds like a fun game. At the time anyway.

Well, Ms. Lou, it was very enjoyable visiting with you today.

Mrs. Lou Ivy: ... having you here. Because it seems like the children have enjoyed listening to it because that's why they all was calling me. My neighbors was, when they played the wrong tape when you supposed to play my tape.

Hubert Laster: Thank you.

I don't know what to say. To our listeners out there, if you have memories that you would like to share also, would you please call 352-8647 and I'll be most happy to record them. From the Retired Seniors Volunteer Program and myself, good day.

In a follow-up discussion, Hubert Laster interviews Lou Ivy about taking care of her stepsiblings, milking cows, how to build a chimney, pastimes, and childhood games.

69. Lou Ivy pt. 1

Transcript

Hubert Laster: Good morning. I'm Hubert Laster, and this morning on the Memories Program, we're going to be visiting with Aunt Lou Ivy. We'll be back in just a moment after a word from our sponsor, Peoples Bank and Trust.

Hi. We're visiting with an incredible woman. She is... Well, she's incredible. I'm just going to let her talk to you, Aunt Lou.

Aunt Lou Ivy: Well, I was born in Texas and lived there about three years.

Hubert Laster: Wait a minute, when were you born?

Aunt Lou Ivy: In 1897. And we come to Louisiana in a covered wagon. My papa had a horse and mule, and we had to camp out and come across Sabine River on the ferry boat and we stayed there all night. The children, there was me and my sister and baby brother, and we slept in the wagon. Papa and mama slept under the wagon.

And we come to Victoria and Papa traded a mule for 40 acres of land and then homesteaded 80 acres. And when they had to work to pay for the land, had two houses on it, and when we didn't have any garden to pay for it, he cut wood because there were no electricity in the little town of Victoria. He cut fire wood and stove wood for everybody. And to pay for the land, he cut this wood, as I said, and we had to save every penny we could.

And we had cornbread and water for dinner and supper and breakfast when we had no vegetables. And sometimes he'd go in the woods and kill a deer and bring it home and we had some of the meat. And he sold the venison to the people in Victoria community, their town. And we paid for the land.

And I had two more brothers, but each one of my brothers died and it was just my sister and I. And then my mother died when I was five years old and I stayed with my aunts until he married again. And after he married again, he sold Victoria Place and went to Robeline and bought what was known as the Wynn Place.

I think that Mr. Jack White was the first person that had that place I knew anything about. And we stayed there and I went to school at Robeline, my sister and I. And when we rode a wagon, two mules pulled the wagon, and when it was bad weather, all the girls and boys that was big enough had to get out and help the mules push the wagon up the hill. And finally we would be so muddy when we got a home, Papa cut a trail from our house, across the pasture and would come in close to the colored schoolhouse. And we could always beat this school bus there and we wasn't so muddy and nasty.

And when I was in ninth grade, I married. I run away and married. My Papa didn't know nothing about it.

Hubert Laster: What did you do when he found out about it?

Aunt Lou Ivy: Well, I'd already left. We went to Brother Middleton's there in Robeline, got married. My husband's name was Roy Horn. And Papa, he come through Robeline... The people, some of the old people tell you now, and everybody would see and ask where I was and they'd tell them they didn't know because, naturally, they didn't know. And he got so mad about it.

Then, my husband and I had two children. He died in 1918 and I worked some. I had just one child then. My oldest little girl died just before her daddy died. And then in... Then, I've got my pages, I guess, cold. I can't read them. Married Tom Aida then, and we had eight children and times were sure hard back then. That was during Depression.

We didn't have enough to open the land. My papa already died and this was his estate and it was divided up, and was no house on the place. So we had to buy old barns and old houses and things to build a house. We just built a frame and moved in.

And, well, you couldn't get a job. My husband walked for weeks and weeks and couldn't get a job. He said you'd have to kill a man to get a job during that time.

Hubert Laster: I've heard that. We need to take a break and let's come back and talk about the Depression. If you've just joined us, we're visiting with Aunt Lou and she's going to tell us about the Depression as she knew it.

Aunt Lou Ivy: Well, we had a large family. We built the frame house, we moved in and put partitions in with the lumber. Built a fireplace. We had eight children, and we would work all the land that was cleared on my strip that I inherited. And at night we'd put the children to bed and go down next to the cleared and we'd clear land and save the poles and trim them up until we got a good piece cleared. And then two or three nights every night, we'd go work til 12:00 and come home and go to bed, and get up next morning before daylight.

After we got a good bit cleared, then we'd set the brush piles apart to see how to dig post holes and build a fence with the poles. And we had one horse and we raised good-sized crops. And the children, as soon as they'd come in from school, they changed the clothes and got them something to eat. If there's anything in the garden, it'd be onion blades and a piece of corn, and right into the field they'd go. And we always bought meal flour in sacks, and I'd save the sacks and made underclothes for the children out of them. And when we'd pick our cotton, we'd take the cotton sacks and make our towels out of them. And you can guess they wasn't very soft. They were not the towels we have today.

Hubert Laster: I don't guess so. Kind of rough on the skin.

Aunt Lou Ivy: Before we went on the WPA though, him and the two older boys would strip cane for a gallon of syrup a week.

Hubert Laster: Now, wait a minute. What is stripping cane?

Aunt Lou Ivy: Stripping cane is cutting it with big knives, cutting the leaves off the cane, haul it to the mill to make syrup out of it.

Hubert Laster: Uh huh, okay.

Aunt Lou Ivy: And we got a gallon a week for the work. And the syrup, you couldn't get over six bits a gallon of syrup after it was made. So, you know, we didn't have very much money and we didn't buy any luxuries at all. We bought our coffee and sugar and after we got to farming, we had biscuits on Sunday morning. And the rest of the time it's cornbread that we'd raised and carried to mill.

Hubert Laster: You know, I've heard that if you're going to go out in the fields and plow, that you better have a piece of cornbread with you. Don't take no biscuits. A piece of cornbread. Is that right?

Aunt Lou Ivy: I reckon it's pretty true because I eat a whole lot more cornbread than I have biscuits. But we finally got enough open land where we didn't have to work on a rent land or rent land from Miss Maude Valentine. We rented land from Mr. Wesley [unintelligible 00:11:05]

Hubert Laster: Oh, don't worry about it.

Aunt Lou Ivy: Oh, one little neighbor bought the house on Westlake... part of Mr. Wesley Sanders' land. And he was so tight, he wouldn't let the children eat the blackberries on the end of the road. He'd say he wanted to save them, but him and his wife, neither one ever picked them and he wouldn't let us have water out of his well. We had to carry our water to the field with us.

Hubert Laster: Sound like a tight old man. I don't think I'd want to work for him.

Aunt Lou Ivy: Well, we got his land a little cheaper to work for him, but we had a hard time of it.

Hubert Laster: I think I have worked for people like that. Well, we have really enjoyed visiting with you, but it's time to go now.

Aunt Lou Ivy: Well, it was nice to have you.

Hubert Laster: If you would like to share your memories with us, would you please call the Retired Senior Volunteer Program? That number is 352-8647. This is Hubert Laster wishing all of you a good day.

Hubert Laster interviews Lou Ivy about traveling to Louisiana in a covered wagon, her father trading a mule for forty acres of land, eloping, building a house, her memories of the Great Depression, and clearing land.

68. Leatter Dupre Coutee

Transcript

Jim Colley: ... Memories with Leatter Coutee. We'll be back-

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Put Dupré on that. Put Dupré on that.

Jim Colley: All right.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Because you know who my ancestors were.

Jim Colley: We'll be back with her in just a moment after this word from Peoples Bank & Trust.

Good morning again. This is The Memories Program, and we're visiting with Mrs. Coutee. Now what did I leave out of your name that you wanted me to say?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: D-U-P-R-E, with an accent on the E.

Jim Colley: And so people will know who your ancestors were?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: That's right. That's right. That's right.

Jim Colley: We were visiting about Melrose and the Cane River Country, and you were talking about the 24 Mile Ferry.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Yeah, that's right.

Jim Colley: Tell me about that.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Okay, 24 Mile Ferry was just on the other side of JB. And Paul Dupré used to charge 10¢ a fare to go across it.

Jim Colley: Now that was on the Cane River?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Right here. Right there on Cane River. Right there.

Jim Colley: Right here south of Melrose?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Right side, right side next door to JB there. Right there, right there. Right between Colleen and JB.

Jim Colley: So it cost-

Leatter Coutee Dupre: There was a store there, a billiard room there. That's why it's called the B-Yard. They always called the B-Yard. It's a billiard room there too, a store. There was a grist mill, corn mill, you know. And on this side was Paul's uncle. He had a big blacksmith shop. His name was Sobren Dupré. He had a blacksmith shop, he had a sugar mill, and he had cattles, horses, buggies. A buggy in those days was a luxury. That was a luxury. Very few people had buggies in those days.

Jim Colley: Now what time are we talking about?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: We talking way back 1905, 1906, 1907, 1908, all the way down the line.

Jim Colley: So there was a little community here called the Billiard?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: The B-Yard was the store.

Jim Colley: B-Yard. Ah.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: The B-Yard, that's the billiard room. They all used to play. Women didn't go there. Men only went there. But they had the women went in the store part, just separated. And there was a big mansion there. Charles Dupré's mansion was painted white and green, and there were six cedars in front of that house. [inaudible 00:02:10] cedars painted white. The bottom was painted white. Painted white. Then the store. Then the store.

Jim Colley: So that was quite a little community there?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Oh yes, it was like a small village in a way, because the houses were near together. And [inaudible 00:02:24], just below that, he also had a sugar mill. Made syrup. You cook syrup long because you have sugar. That's the idea. He was down there. And as a child of five years of age, when I'd hear the boat call, I'd grab my grandmother by her hand. She said, "Don't bother me, I'm..." In French, she would say to me, " [foreign language 00:02:45]."

And I would grab her by the hand, and, "Let's go on the bank. Let's go on the bank and see the boat in there. Let's go see it." And she'd go with me, sit on the bank, and we see those big people, those big husky men unload the boat right in front there. [inaudible 00:02:59], right there. The merchant was there.

And the dances used to be at the Perrine's house.

Jim Colley: Now wait a minute, don't get to the dances. Tell me about those boats. Were those the big river steamboats?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Oh yes. Those boats, these come from New Orleans. They delivered the stuff for the people. They took the cotton from here and brought back the merchandise. That's how they would do.

Jim Colley: And you remember seeing those boats come up here?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Oh yes, in 1905, sure I do.

Jim Colley: Did they turn around here and go back? Or did they go-

Leatter Coutee Dupre: I don't know. Now that I don't remember.

Jim Colley: You just remember-

Leatter Coutee Dupre: I remember seeing them unload. I used to love to watch them unload. And no matter what my grandmother was doing, I'd bother her. She'd fuss with me, but she would take me. And take me aside. "Let's go see. Let's go see. I say to her." And she'd grab me by the hand, "[inaudible 00:03:46]," said, "[foreign language 00:03:47], you're bothering me," she would say. And we'd go and we'd go.

Jim Colley: But she always went with you.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Oh, she wouldn't let me go on the bank alone. Oh, no.

Jim Colley: How often did those boats come up from New Orleans?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: I think about once or twice a month. I'm not quite sure.

Jim Colley: So it was a special kind of occasion when they came up?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Oh, yes. People used to order things from New Orleans, and wait for the boats to come home to get their stuff.

Jim Colley: What would you order from New Orleans?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: I didn't order. The store. We'd get from the store. The stores would order them. But I remember my grandmother telling me, my grandfather, Sobren Dupré used to go very often with the boats, him, and buy things and bring back for his family. A lot of people did that, you know. A lot of them did go back with the boat. A lot of them did. And they'd come back, and a lot of stuff for the family.

Jim Colley: Ms. Coutee, we're going to take a break right now for Peoples Bank & Trust, but we'll be back in just a moment.

This is The Memories Program, and I'm Jim Colley. And we're visiting with Ms. Coutee about Melrose Community down Cane River. What did folks do back in the early 1900s for recreation?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Well, we had dances, private parties, private dances, private parties. Sometimes we'd dance on lemonade and cake. Sometimes we'd have popcorn balls. Sometimes, it was pralines. And during Christmas, it was eggnog.

Jim Colley: Oh, boy.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: They'd dance too. And we used have that. We always had that during Christmas.

Jim Colley: Where were the dances held?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Different place. Different homes. Oh, different homes.

Jim Colley: But always in a home?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: In a home, yes. Different... There were no halls yet then. Oh, no, no, no, no, no.

Jim Colley: Where were the very best dances held?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: At Dupré's. Dupré, J Dupré. That was the best dances there. It was, that house was enormous house. Way up in the daytime, there was a great big parlor. For dances, they'd move the furniture out, and the dances were there. Cousin Edward used to play the music there. And that was the best dances of all there.

Jim Colley: So that was the top society?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: That was the top society. When you were invited there, you were somebody. Oh, yes.

Jim Colley: Now who was that person, where the dances were held?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Dupré, J Dupré. He was married to Perrine Metoie, the ex-daughter-in-law of [foreign language 00:06:06]. Because her first husband was Garcian. And then he was, Garcian... She was Garcian's third wife. But she was my uncle's second wife, my great uncle's second wife. That's my grandfather's brother.

Jim Colley: I bet she was an interesting person.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: She was. She was a rather strong, masculine woman. Very strong and masculine. And when she spoke, she spoke. And wherever she went, she carried her seven sisters with her.

Jim Colley: Uh-oh.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Oh, yes. She used to go play for the Cajuns on Little River. She'd play for anybody. She'd come across that river, and in her buggy, and she'd pick Louise, her husband's niece, or me, sometime both of us. We want to go. We'd go with her. And she'd go to the woods, and we'd say to her, "Cousin [inaudible 00:06:54], aren't you afraid?" She said, "Not long, I got my Seven Sisters with me." Oh, she carried a gun, no worries.

Jim Colley: So she was safe with her gun?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: She called it her Seven Sisters.

Jim Colley: And she called that gun her Seven Sisters?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Seven Sisters.

Jim Colley: And that was all she needed?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: That's all she needed. And believe it, nobody didn't monkey with her either. Nobody monkeyed with her. A man, nobody. They didn't monkey. Frankly, a lot of the Caucasians didn't monkey with her either.

Jim Colley: Nobody did.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: No, no, no. Not her, not her brother, not her father.

Jim Colley: Where did the bands come from?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: There were no bands. She played.

Jim Colley: Who played? She played?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: She played.

Jim Colley: On the piano?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: No, no, on the fiddle.

Jim Colley: On the fiddle?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: No, she had a violin, a beautiful violin. I know what they'd got it when her house burned down. She played. And sometimes she'd have somebody accompany with her on the guitar. I don't remember who it was anymore, but she, with her a violin.

Jim Colley: So she hosted the party and she provided the music?

Leatter Coutee Dupre: And she made them behave too.

Jim Colley: She was the bouncer.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: That's it.

Jim Colley: All rolled up into one.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: That's it. My husband was telling me, Manlow tried to behave bad. And Manlow is a big six-footer. She threw him down the steps.

Jim Colley: Whew. That was something else.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: But I remember Zickel and Adams. I think it was Zickel and Adams. Zickel Dupré, a relative, a grand-nephew. And Adams [inaudible 00:08:14] had started to fight. She told them don't fight her ballroom. And they wouldn't listen. So she just took to them, dragged them to the front porch. She knocked their heads together and threw them out.

Jim Colley: Whew. Well, we were glad to visit with you this morning. We're all out of time, but we'll come back and see you. And we thank you for being on The Memories Program.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: Oh, good.

Jim Colley: We'll see you later.

Leatter Coutee Dupre: All right.

Jim Colley interviews Leatter Dupre Coutee about the 24-mile ferry, watching the steamboats unload, the Melrose community, dances at the Dupre’s, the “Seven Sisters”, and her formidable relatives.

67. Joseph Leggett

Transcript

Jim Colley: Good morning. This is Jim Colley. And we're visiting this morning in the home of Mr. Joseph Leggett. Mr. Leggett, we're glad to be here. And we'll be talking with you in just a few moments, after this word from Peoples Bank & Trust, our sponsors. This is The Memories Show. My name is Jim Colley. Mr. Leggett, we're glad to be with you.

Joseph Leggett: I'm glad to have you.

Jim Colley: Thank you. When were you born, sir?

Joseph Leggett: I was born October the 8th, 1899.

Jim Colley: Before the turn of the century.

Joseph Leggett: That's right.

Jim Colley: Where were you born?

Joseph Leggett: At Georgetown, Louisiana in Grant Parish.

Jim Colley: Do you remember much about growing up in Grant Parish?

Joseph Leggett: I remember more than, the real sentimental things to me happened mostly in Caldwell Parish. My father moved up there when I was about three years old, and I lived there till I was almost 10. And then he moved back to Grant when his health began to fail him.

Jim Colley: What do you remember about growing up in Caldwell Parish? What was life like?

Joseph Leggett: Well, I remember the first year it started me to school. I remember that. And we had to walk three miles. And there's a hornet's nest on the side of the road. And the big boys would stir them up there and let them get us little fellas. That first year, I just went what I wanted to. I'd go with the older kids to school, and when I got tired of it, I'd just go home. I wasn't but six years old, but I'd go make that three miles by myself. I didn't go back until the next day.

Jim Colley: What did you think of school?

Joseph Leggett: I just thought it looked more like a playground than anything else to me then, when I was that little, because there wasn't much to the studies, you know. And we always, you seemed to live so far from the school [inaudible 00:02:14]. I didn't ever get to go to school very much up there, because I was closer to the school after I come back to Grant Parish. And I done most of my school days after coming back to Grant.

Jim Colley: Was school just a one-room schoolhouse with one teacher taking care of everybody?

Joseph Leggett: Yes, that's the way it was. I remember now, Miss Boatner, she'd give me the only lick in school that I ever got.

Jim Colley: Is it fair to ask you what you did to get that licking?

Joseph Leggett: Yes, it's plenty fair. I thumped a paper ball at a girl.

Jim Colley: Oh, I bet you gave girls a lot of trouble then, huh?

Joseph Leggett: Yeah, I was pretty bad after the girls.

Jim Colley: But the teacher just didn't catch you very often?

Joseph Leggett: That's the only time. That girl, she picked up that paper ball and carried it up there and showed it to her.

Jim Colley: And pointed you out?

Joseph Leggett: Yeah, and pointed me out.

Jim Colley: You didn't think-

Joseph Leggett: She just come back there with that big long switch and give me a rap over the back.

Jim Colley: Not much said about it after that though?

Joseph Leggett: No. That's the only trouble I ever had, serious trouble.

Jim Colley: Well, that's not bad at all.

Joseph Leggett: I thought that I had done pretty good. When I was in Caldwell Parish, when I wasn't but six, seven years old, I had me a girlfriend.

Jim Colley: Ah.

Joseph Leggett: And her mama would make her come see me every day.

Jim Colley: Her mother would make her come see you?

Joseph Leggett: No, she'd make her mother bring her to see me every day.

Jim Colley: That's not bad. What did your father do?

Joseph Leggett: He was a farmer.

Jim Colley: Do you remember much about farming?

Joseph Leggett: Well, I remember pretty much about them farming. I didn't do none of it because I was too young. He died when I was 10 years old, and that ended the farming.

Jim Colley: So did you ever spend any time out in the field with him?

Joseph Leggett: Yeah, everywhere he went, I was with him. He didn't go nowhere without me.

Jim Colley: What'd you grow, cotton?

Joseph Leggett: Yeah, he'd grow cotton and then feed stuff, corn, potatoes, everything like that.

Jim Colley: Did you remember your grandparents? We were talking before the show about your grandparents in the Civil War?

Joseph Leggett: No. It's too bad, I don't remember my grandparents on either side, because I wasn't but 10 years old, as I said. And they was all dead before I remember. But I used to love to set up at night and listen to the tales that my mother told about what went on back there. Now them, they had some days back there. Is it all right to tell what happened back then?

Jim Colley: Yeah, let's hear some of those stories.

Joseph Leggett: Well, sir, my grandfather, he dodged the war, that war. He didn't believe in slavery. He had already freed his slaves, and he wouldn't go to war. And he lived four years in a hollow tree.

Jim Colley: Oh really?

Joseph Leggett: Yeah, he did. He lived four years in that hollow tree right across the river from where he lived. And every Saturday evening, he'd come across the river, and he'd shave and clean up. So first one another would come and stay with him, you know. And in that country there was five John Nugent's.

And his nickname was Stickum John. And there was John Buckskin, and John Whistle Britches, and different Johns. I remember Buckskin John, he lived with him a while. And so, one time there was a man living over in that tree with him by the name of Carney. And he had him and his wife, and they were both a young couple. And they come across the river like they always do. And Carney, he shaved, cleaned up first. And after he got through, my grandfather started.

And while he was shaving, they looked and seen the cavalry coming down the road. And he made out like. He did run outside. And my grandmother said, "Oh, don't run, John." Says, "They'll kill you. They're too close." He says, "Well, I can give my partner a change." And he run outside and they hollered, "Halt, halt," and all that kind of stuff.

So Carney, him and his wife had went down on the river bank, right close to the boat. And his wife, she went way around, come down the road. And they was questioning her, said, "You got a husband?" She said, "No," says, "I'm just an orphan girl lives here with these people." But she told my grandmother after they left, said when he heard them hollering, said he just didn't wait for the boat. Said he just rolled over in that river and swum across to their island. That island, I'll tell you, they named it Stickum's Island. And that's what the name of it is today.

Jim Colley: Did the cavalry catch your grandfather at the house?

Joseph Leggett: Yes, they caught him at the house. And he had this horse belonged to his partner. He was a race horse. And he was a trick horse too, and he'd do all kinds of tricks. So he had planned a place in mind up the road to make his getaway. So up about close to Rochelle, he come to this place in the road where it was just a zigzagging. And he had that horse, his head right towards home, and he stuck spurs to him. And he went around the bend so fast, they began to holler up ahead, "Shoot him, shoot him." And his lieutenants, they had a man with every one. His lieutenants said, "Shoot, hell, in damnation. How can I shoot him when I can't get sight of him?"

And they never even went back after him, at all. They just let him go. He went on back, got back home, and my grandmother said that when she seen him coming down the road, said, "That horse didn't look like his four feet ever went to the ground." Said, "It looked like they just stayed up there under his chin." He just come run up to the gate, throwed the reins over the pickets, and going in says, "You got that coffee hot?" She said, "No, I ain't thought about no coffee." He said, "Well, heat it. I ain't going nowhere until I get some coffee."

Jim Colley: He had had enough of an escape right there. Mr. Leggett, we're going to pause just a moment and take a break for Peoples Bank & Trust. But we'll be back with you after this word from our sponsors. This is Jim Colley and we're visiting with Mr. Leggett on The Memories Program. We're looking now at a grocery list that your father used?

Joseph Leggett: Yeah, my father made that-

Speaker 3: That's [inaudible 00:10:39]-

Joseph Leggett: ... grocery bill.

Jim Colley: This was dated, gosh, in 1906. And it's on a piece of old ledger sheet. And we're looking at some grocery prices from back then. Those are really memories now, aren't they?

Joseph Leggett: Yes, they are.

Jim Colley: What's the one you find most interesting on there?

Joseph Leggett: I don't know. I couldn't read it without my glasses. I read with glasses and I can't see it.

Jim Colley: It says here that 27 pounds of bacon sold for $2.10 cents. I can hardly believe that. Here's 19 pounds of bacon for $2.40 cents. Now here are 10 yards of cloth, a dollar. Those are old prices, aren't they?

Joseph Leggett: Yes, that.

Jim Colley: It's hard to remember when they were that. I guess you spent most of your life in Grant Parish?

Joseph Leggett: Most of my life, yes.

Jim Colley: What did you do there?

Joseph Leggett: Well, after I got big enough to work, I worked on the railroad. I went to work on the railroad when I was 14 years old.

Jim Colley: How long did you work for?

Joseph Leggett: I worked about 18 years.

Jim Colley: That's quite a while.

Joseph Leggett: Yeah, up until the war, the second war, when they got to where they didn't use no men much in the second war. They just cut the force down to where we just make about a dollar and a half, a day and a half a week. And I quit the railroad then. And I moved over to Natchitoches Parish, over there in Provençal. That's where my wife's people lived. And from then on, over there I just used my daddy-in-law's team and cut wood and stuff like that for the people.

Jim Colley: We've got time for one last memory, Mr. Leggett. Do you remember anything special about growing up that you want to share with us?

Joseph Leggett: Yes. I'd like to say that my father was a cotton farmer, and I call myself, helping him do everything he done, I went with him. He'd go pick cotton. I'd go down there with him and pick three or four handfuls and put them in his sack. And then I'd get a straddle of that sack and ride it the rest of that half a day.

Jim Colley: That was some help, wasn't it? Riding on that sack.

Joseph Leggett: That's right.

Jim Colley: Mr. Leggett, we've enjoyed visiting with you in your home. We appreciate being here and we thank you for sharing your memories with us. And we hope that some of those folks who are listening to this show will call in and tell us they have some memories to share with us too.

Joseph Leggett: They surely ought to have as good of ones that I have.

Jim Colley: Thank you very much and Peoples Bank & Trust and I thank you for calling in and wanting to share your memories with us. We hope you have a good day.

Jim Colley interviews Joseph Legget about growing up in Caldwell Parish, walking three miles to school, listening to his mother tell stories about his grandfather during the Civil War, his father’s grocery bill, working on the railroad, and helping his father pick cotton.

66. John Rubin

Transcript

David Dollar: Good morning. My name is David Dollar, and we're glad you've joined us for Memories today. We're going to visit with Mr. John Rubin of Natchitoches, and we'll begin our program right after this message from our sponsor, Peoples Bank and Trust Company. Hello, once again. In case you're just joining us, this is David Dollar. We're going to visit today in the home of Mr. John Rubin, with Mr. John Rubin of Natchitoches. And Mr. Rubin, why don't you start things off for us this morning. Just tell us a little bit of background information about yourself.

John Rubin: Well, what I know, I know the first steamboat come through here.

David Dollar: You saw the first steamboat that came through here?

John Rubin: Went to look at it.

David Dollar:

When did it come through? John Rubin: It come through, I was about five years old.

David Dollar: How old are you now?

John Rubin: I'm 84. I'm 84.

David Dollar: 84 now so you were born in what year to save me from subtraction.

John Rubin: 1892.

David Dollar: 1892. July the 4th.

John Rubin: July the 4th. Oh, I tell you. So you're celebrating almost right in line with the bicentennial this year, huh?

David Dollar: Must be.

John Rubin: Tell me about the first steamboat that you saw. What do you remember?

John Rubin: The first steamboat come through here Georgiana Bass.

David Dollar: Uh-huh.

John Rubin: Jessie Kay Belle and the Muskova. Them the three I saw. You see, I was in Cloutierville then I was living down in Cloutierville-

David Dollar: Right.

John Rubin: ... then. My daddy gave me away when I was about five years old, and I stayed with Dr. Scruggs.

David Dollar: I see.

John Rubin: Came over there in Cloutierville.

David Dollar: What do you remember about the steamboat?

John Rubin: Yeah, I was there in Cloutierville.

David Dollar: What do you remember about it, though? Was it big?

John Rubin: Oh yeah, two-story high. The Roberta was two-story high.

David Dollar: Why did the steamboat decide to come through here then? What was it that brought it through here?

John Rubin: They all loading seed and cotton.

David Dollar: Oh, the cotton. Loading up-

John Rubin: Cotton and seed right down here.

David Dollar: And it was going what to Shreveport or New Orleans there?

John Rubin: Going to Shreveport and New Orleans.

David Dollar: Unloading, all those kinds of things. You say you were living down in Cloutierville. What kind of things did you do when you were growing up?

John Rubin: I just stayed with Dr. Scruggs. I'd hitch up the buggy and drive him to town. If he want to come to town to see a sick person, I'd go with him.

David Dollar: Right. So you were sort of a handyman with him then?

John Rubin: With him, yeah.

David Dollar: Helping the doctor make his rounds and things like that. It's real interesting. Tell me about some of the things. You mentioned you've got a sister that's had a little prominence here lately.

John Rubin: Yeah, my sister, she, called her Clementine Hunter.

David Dollar: And she's still down the river, isn't she?

John Rubin: She's still down Cane River.

David Dollar: Do you remember ever watching her draw or things like that?

John Rubin: No, sir. I never did stay there and watch her draw.

David Dollar: I guess, it was sort of interesting though, looking back on it too.

John Rubin: Oh yes, sir. It was interesting.

David Dollar: Did you ever do anything like that, try to express yourself?

John Rubin: No.

David Dollar: Anything like that? You too busy driving the doctor around, I guess.

John Rubin: That's right.

David Dollar: I see. What were some of the things that you and, well, brothers and sisters, all the folks you grew up with, what were some of the things y'all did around the house?

John Rubin: Mama would ask us to do something. She'd tell us to do something if we wouldn't do it, but she ain't got do us nothing until that night. When that night come, we saw her.

David Dollar: Saved it up for you, huh?

John Rubin: Yeah, she saved up that up for at night.

David Dollar: And then next time-

John Rubin: One night she told me, she said, "John," she said, "you see this sun?" I said, "Yes." She said, "Well, you know what I mean." I said, "I know what you mean." She said, "All right." So I stayed late playing with them boys, and I went on in, knocked at the door. She said, "Who that knocking at my door?" I said, "This your boy." She said, "Oh, no." She said, "That's a man. You can't come in here." I said, "Well, where I'm a sleep, Mama?" She said, "I don't know, under the house. You ain't coming in here." And I didn't get in.

David Dollar: You didn't make it home by sundown, did you?

John Rubin: No, I didn't make it home. She told me. And I was sorry.

David Dollar: I bet, so.

John Rubin: I thought I was done with it, you know. The next day, she got that switch and put on me.

David Dollar: You had forgotten about it and she hadn't.

John Rubin: No, she hadn't.

David Dollar: I guess mamas are like that all over the place.

John Rubin: Right.

David Dollar: Let me interrupt you right here. We need to take a brief commercial. We'll be right back on Memories again. Visiting with Mr. Rubin this morning right after this message from People's Bank, our sponsor. Hello once again, in case you're just joining us, this is David Dollar visiting in the home of Mr. John Rubin today. Mr. Rubin, we were talking about all sorts of things here just now, getting whippings and things like that. Talking earlier, you told me about you had kind of a funny incident about going to school, beginning your education. Why don't you tell us what happened?

John Rubin: Well, I went one day in my life to school and Dr. Scruggs taught me the Bible at night.

David Dollar: So you only went to school one day?

John Rubin: Just one day. That's all.

David Dollar: Well, what was it that made you stop going to school?

John Rubin: Pulling my nose and ears.

David Dollar: What, the teacher?

John Rubin: The teachers did. And I just quit.

David Dollar: She was sitting there messing with you or something. How old were you when you first went?

John Rubin: I was about seven years old.

David Dollar: And just didn't see much sense in that foolishness she had going on, pulling ears and such.

John Rubin: Oh, no.

David Dollar: But you said that you learned to read and write from Dr. Scruggs.

John Rubin: Yeah. From Dr. Scruggs.

David Dollar: The doctor that you were helping. I see. Going back... Well, skipping a few years. What are some things, when did you move to Natchitoches from Cloutierville is what I'm trying to get out.

John Rubin: About '28, 1928.

David Dollar: 1928. What were some of the things you did around here? You lived such a full life?

John Rubin: Just farm that's all.

David Dollar: Just kind of farming around?

John Rubin: Farming around. And I work in the yard around here, 20 yards a week, I'd cut.

David Dollar: My goodness. Had a busy week. Sounds like it.

John Rubin: Oh, yeah. Every week.

David Dollar: Every week.

John Rubin: 20.

David Dollar: 20 all the time. Golly. What are some of the biggest changes you can remember about Natchitoches growing up here and living here for so long?

John Rubin: I worked at the oil mill down here for about five, six months, and I worked at Normal [Inaudible 00:06:59] College.

David Dollar: Oh, you worked at the college too?

John Rubin: Oh, yes.

David Dollar: I guess the college and the town both have really changed a lot since you first moved here.

John Rubin: They changed plenty.

David Dollar: Well, that sounds good. We're getting on a little bit late in the program here. You've got a real special closing memory for us and I want to save some special extra time for that. Found out Mr. Rubin was kind of pulling our leg a minute ago. I asked him if he did anything ways of expressing himself like his sister, Clementine Hunter did, and he said no, but I found out since that he plays a harp. And as his closing memory today, Mr. Rubin's going to give us a treat on the harp like he used to do a while ago. Why don't you go right ahead, introduce it or do whatever you need to do.

MUSIC: (music)

David Dollar: All right. That was one of my favorite closing memories I've ever heard. Mr. Rubin, we thank you for joining us today.

John Rubin: Yes, sir.

David Dollar: Very much. We thank you folks at home for listening. If any of y'all have memories that you'd like to share or someone that you think would be good on the program, why don't you give us a call. We're using the Retired Senior Volunteer Program office and their number is 352-8647. We thank you again for joining us. We thank the Peoples Bank for bringing this program to you.

David Dollar today on Memories visiting with Mr. John Rubin, we thank you for joining us and have a nice day.

John Rubin: Thank you, sir.

David Dollar interviews John Rubin, brother of folk artist Clementine Hunter, about growing up in Cloutierville, watching the riverboats, dropping out of school, and driving for Doctor Scrubbs. At the end, he treats us with some harmonica playing.

65. John Forshee

Transcript

Hubert Laster: Good morning. This is Hubert Laster and this morning on the Memories Program we're going to be visiting with Mr. John Forshee. We'll be back in just a moment after a word from our sponsors. Again, good morning. Mr. Forshee lives outside of Vowells Mill and out behind his house, to the side of it, he's got a mill, his own mill, and we just missed him making his last batch of cane syrup. Mr. Forshee, how do you do that?

John Forshee: Oh, I just hold the cane up out there and put it in the mill and run it through the mill and then run it through the pan and cook molasses off.

Hubert Laster: You make it sound real easy, but how long does it take you to do that?

John Forshee: Oh, just knowing how much you got. If you ain't got but a little it don't take long to make and got to right mark it take the right mark.

Hubert Laster: I see. I was not expecting when I came out here to see such a, well, it's almost a modern apparatus you have, it's made out of steel and it has electrical motor and everything. I was really expecting a stone wheel almost. But when did you get that mill?

John Forshee: Oh, I got that mill from a fellow out here at Provençal. Bill West gave me that mill and my oldest son, he taken it off down the race line and he fixed it up for to put a motor to it and brought all of it back up here to me. He set it up and I've been around it now for about six or seven years.

Hubert Laster: How long? Who taught you how to make cane syrup?

John Forshee: Well, I've been around it all of my life. I've never run off a gallon of syrup in my life, but I've got a friend down here, Willie Honeycut, he makes it for me every year. Go down there and get him and bring him back up here and he stays with me until we get through. That's the way we worked that.

Hubert Laster: Now you catch all the juice after you squeezed it out of the sugarcane?

John Forshee: Yeah, we catch it out of a barrel up there and empty the mill. Catch the juice.

Hubert Laster: Now what is that second hut that has a, it's a stove and all that. Explain all that to me.

John Forshee: That's a furnace. That's where the evaporator is. That's what makes it syrupy. And whenever the syrup gets cooked over, we just pull out the pan and let it run in a vessel lot and then we can open the little faucet down on it and put the syrup in the bucket or jug or anything you've got you want to put it in, seal it up, then you've got your syrup.

Hubert Laster: And that's all there is to it.

John Forshee: That's all there is to it. Only but one thing to it, now it's a lot of work to it.

Hubert Laster: A lot of work to it.

John Forshee: It's a lot of work to it.

Hubert Laster: I noticed you said that this was going to be the last time you made.

John Forshee: Yeah, this the last time. My Momma, she said she was going to quit me if I didn't quit it.

Hubert Laster: That's your wife?

John Forshee: That's my wife. That won't work.

Hubert Laster: Okay. Your furnace, did you make that furnace yourself?

John Forshee: Yeah, I made all that furnace out of brick and mud.

Hubert Laster: Red clay.

John Forshee: Red clay. That's right.

Hubert Laster: I noticed it was cracked.

John Forshee: Yeah, it hit a bust whenever that fire hit, it did a dry out and one bust open.

Hubert Laster: So every time you make cane syrup you have to?

John Forshee: You've got to remodel the furnace on it, put the pan back on it so it won't get no air in it, no smoke come out from under it.

Hubert Laster: That's all there is to it?

John Forshee: That's all there is to it. Well you get to boiling good, you've got to let it boil back the skim all good and then take the skimming dough and put it in the barrel, and just keep on working that way. Then you get it, get it all skimmed off and then you got syrup up on the front end of your evaporator. Then you let them all, then you-

Hubert Laster: Now, evaporator, that’s-

John Forshee: That's the pan, that's what we call evaporator. That's what we cook it in.

Hubert Laster: Okay. Was there a reason why it had those ridges in it or?

John Forshee: I really can't tell you what them ridges in there. I reckon that's just-

Mrs. Forshee: That's to hold it back in.

John Forshee: That's to hold it back. I reckon whenever you get them syrup cooked and take them all and then it makes it goes around, it comes and goes up and then comes back and just makes it that way.

Mrs. Forshee: And then...

John Forshee: Go ahead.

Mrs. Forshee: That's where the juice goes over around and then at the last run, you know, the waters are coming behind it. You got to stop it up. Keep that. That's to keep the pan from burning.

Hubert Laster: Thank you, Mrs. Forshee. Well, Mr. Forshee. Let's go back a ways. You were born around this area?

John Forshee: Oh yeah. I was born in two and a half miles from here to where I live right now.

Hubert Laster: All right. How many children were in your family?

John Forshee: In mine?

Hubert Laster: Yes, sir.

John Forshee: I had five children. Five boys.

Hubert Laster: You had five boys?

John Forshee: Five boys.

Hubert Laster: And how many did your father have?

John Forshee: I think he had 6. 3, 4 girls. Four girls and three boys, I believe it was.

Hubert Laster: That makes seven.

John Forshee: That makes seven. That's right.

Hubert Laster: Okay. Well now, what do you remember about growing up? What are some of your clearest memories of growing up as a boy?

John Forshee: Oh, I remember I know I had my daddy made me work all the time. I know that. He never did let me quit. Plowing, he turned the plow over to me when I wasn't but about eight or nine years old and he went on back to the house and I finished the job, and that's the way we got by that. Way back, we all had to work. We didn't, wasn't no playing around. That's the way I come up. I was pretty mean back on them in young days, too. I'd get ram scoot around a little bit, just sort of rough, but it never did amount to nothing.

Hubert Laster: Just had a good time.

John Forshee: Just had a good time.

Hubert Laster: Clean fun.

John Forshee: Clean fun.

Hubert Laster: Drink that moonshine.

John Forshee: Yeah, I made a little bit, but I didn't make none to sell. I know I couldn't make enough to sell, I drunk it myself.

Hubert Laster: Oh. Well you wouldn't have made a businessman.

John Forshee: No, I wouldn't had made no, I never could make enough to sell.

Hubert Laster: Well, your father was a farmer.

John Forshee: Oh, yeah. That's all he ever done is farming. Never worked a day on public works in his life. I don't reckon. He did, I never did hear nothing about it.

Hubert Laster: Well y'all, with a large family, how many acres did y'all cultivate each year?

John Forshee: Oh, we worked about 25, 30 acres, something like that. We made our peas and our corn, cotton, sugarcane, made syrup. We got along pretty good. Made our own bread. Didn't have to buy nothing but a little flour and little sugar. Good coffee. That's about what we had to buy.

Hubert Laster: Now your father owned his own land?

John Forshee: Oh, yeah. He owned his own land.

Hubert Laster: How did he get it, or do you know?

John Forshee: Oh, he bought it way back yonder when land is cheap, give about a dollar an acre for it. Way back yonder, you know. That's what he paid for it, a dollar an acre, years ago.

Hubert Laster: Many years ago.

John Forshee: Many years ago. I think it sold back our land, sometimes some four bits an acre. But he paid a dollar an acre. He had 120 acres of it. That's what he had and he divided it up around us boys, three boys.

Hubert Laster: I see. How did you make your living besides farming? Your father and you and your family?

John Forshee: Oh yeah, he made the living of farming. He didn't public work or nothing. He didn't do nothing but farm. Only the little old little place he had, we had.

Hubert Laster: Well how did y'all get money?

John Forshee: Well, he raised that cotton, you know, and he'd sell the cotton and get the money that-a-way. Raised three or four bales of cotton a year, sell that, get the money. We lived on that. My daddy never did borrow nickel of money in his life, I don't reckon, while he lived to make a crop, we didn't have what we've got today.

Hubert Laster: I guess not.

John Forshee: Whenever I come up, you know, I could get a loan and make a crop when I raising my children, you know. I'd go to bank on, I'd get $60 or something like that. Make the $60 do us all the summer, all the year until we made another little crop. We never did.

Hubert Laster: Can't do that anymore.

John Forshee: You can't do that no more. $60 wouldn't go nowhere now.

Hubert Laster: We need to take a break right now for word from our sponsor and we'll be back just a moment.

If you've just joined us, we're visiting with Mr. John Forshee in Vowelles Mill. Well, Mr. Forshee, now, when did you move to where you live now?

John Forshee: I think it was about 1917.

Hubert Laster: You got married.

John Forshee: Got married.

Hubert Laster: And got your own place.

John Forshee: Got my own outfit.

Hubert Laster: You built this house we're in now?

John Forshee: Yep.

Hubert Laster: What did you build this house out of? You know, it's still standing. It looks beautiful.

John Forshee: I built it out of pure lumber.

Hubert Laster: What kind of lumber?

John Forshee: Just sawed one-by-twelves, plank, old-timey stuff. You know what we used to buy to put up a house with? Just plank. Ain't none of this fancy stuff. It's just plain lumber.

Hubert Laster: Is it hardwood?

John Forshee: No, it's pine. Pine lumber.

Hubert Laster: Still pine.

John Forshee: It's pine lumber.

Hubert Laster: I see.

John Forshee: Built some of it out of Sheetrock on the inside of that Sheetrock in there on the inside and all like that.

Hubert Laster: Did you use the hardwood of the pine?

John Forshee: No, it was some hard and some sap mixed. Just mixed the hard and sap together.

Hubert Laster: I noticed out there on your shed that those are wooden shingles.

John Forshee: Yeah, they're wooden shingles.

Hubert Laster: Did you make those?

John Forshee: I made them, too.

Hubert Laster: How do you make shingles?

John Forshee: Oh, you got to rive out the timber and take you a froe. This outfit you call a froe, and then you got a wooden hammer, put them down in an outfit and bump them, you know, and put the froe-ing iron and priers down on it and split out your boards.

Hubert Laster: Now do you adze them down?

John Forshee: No. You just put them on just like you rive them out, get a bunch, tack them on, nail them on the top.

Hubert Laster: Does it leak?

John Forshee: No. Not if you put it on all right, it won't.

Hubert Laster: What makes the best shingles? What kind of wood?

John Forshee: Cypress makes the best shingles when you can get them. Cypress timber, good hard Cypress, you know. That makes the best there is.

Hubert Laster: But you can't find that, though?

John Forshee: You can't find that no more. No other kind now, not around here. Not to make any boards.

Hubert Laster: What other kind of wood can you make shingles out of?

John Forshee: Well, you make it out of pine, good pine, good long leaf pine timber. You know, what we used to have, but we haven't got no more of that, though.

Hubert Laster: What about Hickory?

John Forshee: Oh, you couldn't do that out of Hickory, no oak, either. Oak timbers don't make boards.

Hubert Laster: Okay. How do you make a plank?

John Forshee: Oh, you got to haul the logs to the mill. Run them through the sawmill, you know, slab them off. That's they way you get the lumber.

Hubert Laster: Did you ever split out the log yourself?

John Forshee: No, I can't do that one. I take it to the sawmill, you know, and get it sawed up, make it lumber.

Hubert Laster: It's easier.

John Forshee: It's easier. Oh, yeah. You have to do that to make lumber. Got to take your plank or logs to the mill and saw them. Put them up in lumber. That's the way you can get that.

Hubert Laster: Mr. Forshee, we're running out of time, but I would like to know how you make an Axe handle.

John Forshee: Well, I get an Axe and go to wood and get my timber, bring it to the house, split it like I want it, then I took it out to my vice.

Hubert Laster: What kind of wood?

John Forshee: I use Hickory wood.

Hubert Laster: All right.

John Forshee: Then I took it to my vice and I get my drawing knife. I work her down just like I want it and get my sandpaper and I've fixed it up good like that.

Hubert Laster: Now drawing knife, that has two handles on it?

John Forshee: That's got two handles.

Hubert Laster: Okay.

John Forshee: All right, and then I let her dry a while and I put in my Axe, get me a wedge and put in the end of it and then I got a good handle. I made several ax handles, enjoy it.

Hubert Laster: I see.

John Forshee: I enjoy it when I feel like it.

Hubert Laster: Well, Mr. Forshee, it was very much of a pleasure to visit with you.

John Forshee: Well, I've enjoy your visit with me.

Hubert Laster: If you have any memories that you would like to share, would you please dial 352-8647. The Retired Seniors Volunteer Program will be happy to take your name and number and I'll be out there to visit with you, too. This is Hubert Laster. Wishing you all a very pleasant, good day.

Hubert Laster interviews John Forshee about making cane syrup, farming as a child, raising cotton, building his own house, and making axe handles.

64. Jo Bryant Ducaneau pt. 2

Transcript

David Dollar: Good morning. This is David Dollar. We're going to have on our Memories program this morning, another visit from Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau. We'll be right back to begin our program right after this word from Peoples Bank and Trust Company.

Good morning again. David Dollar here on Memories today with Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau. Mrs. Ducaneau, why don't you, since you've visited with us several times here, why don't you just pick up where we left off last time and talk a little bit about some things you've been involved in around here.

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: Well, I believe I was talking about the outdoor theater. And if my memory serves me right, Thelma Zelenka, who is now Mrs. John Kyser, put on that first outdoor theater. I'm not sure whether it was Midsummer Night's Dream or whether it was just an extravaganza, but I do remember dancing on the lawn there with Carol Flower from Alexandria who went on to Broadway and danced there. She left me in the shade to dance in 1960 exhibition dances for Arthur Murray in San Francisco.

So, I think that settles the outdoor theater business. Then I think of another thing is when my father was on the board of the college, then I think it was called a Normal board then, none of us ever rode at night in a car with a boy. That was just outrageous. You couldn't do that and the college girls couldn't ride in a car anytime at all. So one girl did and she was caught and she was yanked up before the board and they were going to expel her and she cried and she was terribly upset and Daddy said, she said, "I just took one ride in the middle of the day and the sun was shining."

David Dollar: They were going to expel her for just riding in a car?

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: That's right.

David Dollar: My goodness. I wonder how that would go over on campus today.

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: I wonder too.

David Dollar: You mentioned, Mrs. Ducaneau, I'm very interested in drama, you mentioned a play that was produced with some folks in town. I think you were in high school here. It was another maybe outdoor play.

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: No, that was Ma'ame Pelagie.

David Dollar: That's right.

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: Kate Chopin's story that Mary Frances Davis, for whom the Davis Theatres are named, dramatized it. I think Leske asked her to dramatize it. And the relatives were in it and it was given in the old Caldwell building. We had no footlights, we had no curtains, we had no nothing.

David Dollar: So it was just early drama here at the school.

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: Just early drama.

David Dollar: What about when you were in high school?

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: Oh, that, yeah, I forgot that. That was the play Haiwatha. And Sanford Roy, who was the president's son, Mr. Roy, was Haiwatha and he learned all the Haiwatha lines, but it took three mini ha-has to learn the lines. And we thought it was a great dramatic scoop to have it on one side of a pond that was where the Teacher's Educational Center is now, I believe, or around there anyway, and have the audience sit across the pond and view the thing by torchlight. Fine. We were getting along very well and daddy sent around word that the play was very pretty, but that they couldn't hear one word because of the frogs were out-chirping us.

David Dollar: My goodness. Mrs. Ducaneau, let me interrupt you right here for a short commercial break from the folks that are bringing you Memories this morning and every morning, Peoples Bank and Trust company. This is David Dollar visiting this morning on Memories again with Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau. Mrs. Ducaneau. I would like to hear a little bit about your husband. We heard about your father last time and other folks you've had a lot of fun with around town. Why don't you speak about your husband?

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: Well, he's a very unusual person and a very scholarly person and a very versatile person. My father planted the crepe-myrtle trees at the top of the Cane River bank and he planted the live oak trees on the edge of the river. And he put them there because he said, "Maybe nobody would look after them and they would be near the water and they could look after themselves." When we speak of the crepe-myrtle trees being on Front Street, remember that Front Street has several names. Every time it makes an elbow, it changes its name to Jefferson or something else. So other people have planted in other places. [inaudible 00:04:57]

David Dollar: For sure. You were mentioning, I think, something about the library here.

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: Oh, yes. My husband has had a very extensive library on all sorts of books. He was interested in art and theater and history and music and all sorts of things. He had many first editions and many rare and out of print editions. He talked this over with his very good friend, Colonel Gildersleeve, who was head of ROTC here for several years, and Colonel Gildersleeve urged him to go ahead with his plan to give his books to the library. So after some going back and forth, he talked to Arthur Watson about it and Arthur also urged him. So finally, he did. John Price went back and got the books, about 1500 of them in San Francisco, had them shipped here and given to the library here.

David Dollar: Well, I'm certain they will be made marvelous use of here by the students and many more folks in years to come. Let me ask you this, where did you meet your husband? How did you come about getting together with this man?

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: Of course, we both grew up here, but we didn't seem to know one another. But after the war, he and Dr. Hargrove, who was from here and who was his best friend were walking along the street and I passed in a car and waved to them. And he told me this, he said, "Who is that girl?" And Dr. Hargrove said, "Would you like to have a date with her?" And he said, "Yes." He said, "I'll get you one." So he went in his home and telephoned and they came down to my house and that was how I met him.

David Dollar: My goodness. That’s sort of a wave at first sight, you might say. I don't know. Something else you mentioned about your husband had something to do with the football team, I believe

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: He's the oldest living captain of the football team here. That's not much known, but it's a fact.

David Dollar: Does he still enjoy the game and watches...

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: Oh, he just loves it. He's just crazy about it. And he never was a TV fan, but when we came here and he couldn't go to the real games, he's become an addict to-

David Dollar: To the television.

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: That's right.

David Dollar: Like I'm sure many homes can agree to there around our area. Let me interrupt you one more time, Mrs. Ducaneau. We'll be right back with our closing memory right after this word from Peoples Bank and Trust. As usual, we like to try to close our program with what we like to call our closing memory. Mrs. Ducaneau, why don't you share something with us about that?

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: Recently I had a clipping sent to me from a New Orleans paper. New Orleans used to have two papers, The Times-Picayune and The Democrat, and this was The Democrat, and the clipping said about my husband and his relationship to football. "Mason," that was the coach at that time, "has picked out what he terms a find. Little Ducaneau who weighs 133 pounds. Besides having nerve and speed in abundance, he was what only artists show, and that is brains."

David Dollar: Mrs. Ducaneau, we thank you for joining us this morning. Maybe we can get Mr. Ducaneau in pads and out with the Demons or something for this next year, I guess. Try to help us all get it back together.

Jo Bryant Ducaneau: That would be wonderful.

David Dollar: Thank you very much for joining us again on Memories. You folks at home, if you enjoy the show, talk to the people at Peoples Bank and thank them for bringing it and us to you. If you are interested in becoming involved in the community, if you're over 60, get in touch with the Retired Senior Volunteer Program, your local action agency. Their phone number is 352-8647. We thank you for joining us today on Memories with Ms. Jo Bryant Ducaneau. Join us again. Have a nice week.

In a follow up discussion, David Dollar interviews Jo Bryant Ducaneau about outdoor theater, college standards in the past, her husband, crepe myrtle trees, donating 1,500 books to the library, love at first sight, and football.

63. Jo Bryant Ducaneau pt. 1

Transcript

David Dollar (00:04): This is David Dollar again. Good morning. We're glad you're with us this morning on KNOC and our program, Memories, brought to you by Peoples Bank. We're visiting once again this morning, in case you just joined us, with Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau. Mrs. Ducaneau, why don't we maybe pick up kind of where we left off last time and talk a little bit more about early Natchitoches history?

Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau (00:25): Well, it's something that's very near to my heart is the red bricks on Front Street, is the project of the red bricks on Front Street. Some people want to tear them up and think they're old-fashioned and rough-going and all that. But I have a very soft spot in my heart for those red bricks. In about 1904, or '05, I think it must have been, they were laid down, and at that time they were the only pavement we had and my, we were glad to get them. And there was a celebration. The children in town all got light boxes. That is, you got a shoe box or some other kind of box and cut stars, or holes, or some moons, or holes of some kind, pasted a piece of colored tissue paper behind it and lit a candle.

(01:13): Then you drag this box down the street and it made a very pretty thing. But Auntie got a round hat box and she cut out a desert scene of camels and palm trees on mine. And it was a lovely thing and it won the prize. Auntie got a bone felon from cutting it with a pen knife, but anyway, it was worth it. She was very glad. So, those bricks out very close to my heart and I certainly would hate to see them come down. Besides that, I noticed when I drive to Alexandria and I get onto one of those brick streets down there, I have a feeling of, "Isn't this a lovely street?" And I think Natchitoches ought to preserve those red bricks, I hope we will.

(01:59): At one time, you know there was a controversy about digging them up, and the women from some organization joined hands and strung themselves across the street.

David Dollar (02:08): I remember that, yes, yes.

Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau (02:10): I wasn't here then, but I heard about it.

David Dollar (02:11): We might have to do that again, then. I don't know. I know some of the folks are kind of griping about the bumpiness on there. What about something else about Front Street? You mentioned to me, there were trees along there.

Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau (02:23): Yes. Daddy, was, he loved Natchitoches. He really loved it. And he thought all the time about how he could improve in beautifying Natchitoches. And he got the idea of planting crepe myrtle trees. And so he planted crepe myrtle trees all down Front Street, and he tried to have them all, what was called then, watermelon pink. But I noticed that some died and they've been replaced and so they're not all the same color now, but anyway, that was his dream. And he and Mr. Clarence Purlieux, who is the father of Hertzog Purlieux, now Chairman of the Board of the Peoples Bank, used to sit on a bench in front of the hotel there on Front Street and watch the girls go by. And every time a crepe myrtle tree would sprout a new little sprout, Daddy would jump up and get out his pen knife and cut it all so that it would grow tall and straight.

David Dollar (03:16): That's good. Nice to know about that. Bringing back some other memories that a lot of folks I'm sure can share both in Natchitoches and the, the surrounding area, tell us what you told me about the telephone that you remember.

Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau (03:31): I remember when telephones were put in Natchitoches and we were then living in [inaudible 00:03:37] Tauzin's house. So it was way back yonder in 1903 or four, somewhere along there. And I had to climb on a little stool and tiptoe and crank the phone and shout up into the mouthpiece. And our phone number was 5-3 and I knew the operator, Miss Alma [Kyle 00:03:54], she lived next door to us. And instead of asking for a number, I would ask Miss Alma if I could get such-and-such a person.

David Dollar (04:00): Right, just to ask people on the phone.

Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau (04:03): Very personal.

David Dollar (04:03): That's something, I'll tell you. Tell me about your horse, you mentioned him.

Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau (04:08): Oh, my Nick, my Nick.

David Dollar (04:09): That was something else.

Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau (04:10): I had a great big 16 hand horse, and a sorrel horse, [Niccolo Govanivich 00:04:17] was his name because Daddy bought him from the Govanivich people, who I think owned the oil mill before Daddy did. And that's how he got the name of Niccolo Govanivich. But every evening, Norma and Millie Hill, Mildred now is Mrs. Peyton Cunningham, I'm sure you all know her, would get on old Nick and the three of us would ride. And I wish I had a picture of that, but I don't.

David Dollar (04:43): I bet that was a sight. Let us take a short break right here at this point for a commercial message from our friends at Peoples Bank. [silence 00:04:54].

(04:56): This is David Dollar on Memories. We're visiting again with Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau. Mrs. Ducaneau, why don't you tell us some of the memories that you had about Northwestern when you were involved here. Or, I suppose it was, what, State Normal then, was that it?

Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau (05:15): Well, you know, in those days, people didn't have many automobiles. In fact, the first automobile I remember in town belonged to Mr. Phanor Breazeale. It was a Model T. And we used to go tearing up and down Front Street in it. And after [Bodhi 00:05:35] Hill, I don't know whether the Bodhi Hill still exists or not.

David Dollar (05:37): I don't know.

Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau (05:37): It was the first hill out of Natchitoches going toward Grand Encore. And we'd get almost to the top of the hill and the engine would die. You had to crank it. That's the only way. So we would get out and try to crank, and we couldn't, and then we would all push to the top of the hill, and then it would slide down the other side. And of course, by releasing the brake we could start again. That was very exciting. So everybody walked to school and you walked home to lunch.

David Dollar (06:09): Right.

Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau (06:09): Or you ran. If the boy that you was with was a good runner, you ran with him. So that kept us in good trim. At that time, Mr. Aswell was the President. And not too long ago, someone wrote a thesis on his son, James Aswell, who became a writer. I don't know who wrote the thesis, and I don't know who corrected and accepted the thesis, but I don't believe either one of them did their research or homework well, because the thesis stated that Mr. Aswell had one child. Well, he didn't, he had two. He had a girl, Corrine, who married the son of a Kentucky Senator and lived in Kentucky for many years, still lives there, and was postmistress in Georgetown, Kentucky. I think that that should be straightened out because many people in town who knew Corrine, who knew that Mr. Aswell had two children because the Aswells lived here after he had gone on to Congress. And I would like to get that straightened out. I'm sure I'm right on that. They were my cousins and she was my best friend.

David Dollar (07:27): So I guess there's no doubt about her being one of the children if she was your cousin. That's good. You mentioned something about your participation in some drama here. With the outbreak of the outdoor drama now Natchitoches LODA coming around. What? Give us a little background on that.

Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau (07:44): Yeah. Well, there was some discussion as to what was the first outdoor drama here, and it was generally thought that it was a story of Kate Chopin's, which was dramatized by Mary Frances Davis. Mary Francis Davis was then the dramatic director here at the Normal, it was then, and she made Ma’ame Pélagie into a play and she directed it and had as many of Kate Chopin's relatives in it as she could get. Catherine Breazeale was in it, I think. And Marie Breazeale was in it. And Doris Henry Pearson, Dr. Pearson's wife was in it. And let's see, who else? Mr. McGinty, who was later on a president here of the college and John Pettis, who was in the registrar's office, I believe. And I was in it, though I'm not a relative. But anyway, we functioned without footlights, without curtains, without anything. And we functioned indoors in the Carwell Building. And the reason I remembered so distinctly was that our footlights, all of our lights, were candles. And at the end, when I had to die in front of the footlights, Marie forgot to take off the candles and there I was.

David Dollar (09:12): My goodness, a struggling actress. We'd like to close our program with a closing memory each time, if we can. And we'll come back to Mrs. Ducournau's closing memory on this program right after our commercial message from Peoples Bank. [silence 00:09:27] This is David Dollar on Memories today, visiting again with Mrs. Jo Bryan Ducournau. Ms. Ducournau, why don't you give us your closing memory on the program today?

Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau (09:40): Well, in thinking of Kate Chopin, a relative of hers here is Arthur Watson and his father stands out in my memory as a very important person. My father was a widow and a lot of dancing and things like entertaining went on in my home. His crowd used to come down and dance quite a lot at night. And Mr. Arthur, who was a beautiful dancer, taught me how to do the Gaby Glide, the Hesitation Waltz, and the Boston Dip.

David Dollar (10:15): Not exactly the dances you'll see, I guess, on American Bandstand today, but very definitely some of our memories. Mrs. Ducaneau we thank you for joining us today.

David Dollar sits down with Mrs. Jo Bryant Ducaneau and talks about her memories of growing up in Natchitoches including the importance of the red bricks on Front Street and participating in outdoor theater.

62. J.K. Foster

Transcript

David Dollar: Good morning. This is David Dollar, and we're glad you've joined us for Memories today. We're going to be visiting with Mr. J.K Foster, and we'll be back to start our program right after this message from our sponsor, Peoples Bank and Trust Company.

Hello once again. In case you're just joining us, we're glad you're here. David Dollar this morning on Memories. We're going to visit in the home today of Mr. J.K Foster. Mr. Foster, we thank you for having us in your home today, and going to open up and share some memories with us, I think.

J. K. Foster: Thank you for being here. I'm proud that you are here.

David Dollar: Why don't we start things off by you telling us just a little bit about yourself, little background and such.

J. K. Foster: Well, I was born at the little village of Provencal in 1891, March the 5th, 4:20 AM in the morning.

David Dollar: My goodness, sounds like you remember that. You're pretty sure about it, I think.

J. K. Foster: I got my mother's word on that.

David Dollar: Okay. She ought to know, I guess.

J. K. Foster: I suppose so.

David Dollar: Okay.

J. K. Foster: And when I was six weeks old, my father moved out in the country about a mile and a quarter from the little village of Provencal on a homestead. And there he raised his family, and there was 13 of us children, eight boys and five girls, and I'm the oldest boy that was living. And we was poor folks, and we had to work. So I began to drive mules when I was 12 years old.

David Dollar: You were 12 when you started driving mules. What was your dad doing at this time to try to make a living?

J. K. Foster: My dad, he'd worked some at the public works and he farmed some.

David Dollar: Mm-hmm.

J. K. Foster: Just betwixt and between.

David Dollar: Kind of whatever he could to make a little money, huh?

J. K. Foster: That's right. That's right. That's right. And when I was small, I had two brothers right under me. There were just 21 months' difference in each and every one of us, but I was the oldest. And we had certain things that we had to do-

David Dollar: Chores around the house and things to help out?

J. K. Foster: That's it. Mother and Daddy did teach us to work, and we had those chores to make each and every day. But after that was done, why, we was free to do like we wanted to, and me and my two brothers next to me, we were mad about rabbit hunting.

David Dollar: Rabbit hunting?

J. K. Foster: Yeah.

David Dollar: I imagine that's a pretty good neck of the woods to be in for rabbit hunting.

J. K. Foster: It was. And my father had a little cur dog, we called him Doc.

David Dollar: Doc.

J. K. Foster: And he had quite a lot of sense. Us kids would take him, go out in the woods, and he would run the rabbits. My daddy could go out in the woods with him and just hiss him out and he'd hunt squirrels.

David Dollar: My goodness.

J. K. Foster: And he could go out in the woods and say, "Sooey," and he wouldn't hunt nothing but hogs. He was a smart dog, he was a little dog, but he was a smart dog.

David Dollar: Sounds like it.

J. K. Foster: And he lived to be about 18 years old.

David Dollar: Sounds smarter than most folks, I guess.

J. K. Foster: Yeah.

David Dollar: Goodness gracious.

J. K. Foster: He was a smart dog, no question about that. When we got big enough to handle a hoe, we had the chores to do in the field and in the garden and keep the grass down. Father done the plowing until I was, oh, I reckon I was about eight years old. I'd plow something then. And we scuffled along there and made a living. Of course, we made the most of our food. Well, we raised it,

David Dollar: Raised most all of it.

J. K. Foster: We had hogs and we had cows, and we had plenty of milk and water and we had plenty of meat and we could raise greens and peas.

David Dollar: For a family of 13 kids and a mom and daddy, I bet you all had to raise a bunch of greens and peas and such to keep food on the table for everybody.

J. K. Foster: It took quite a lot of it, because we was all big eaters.

David Dollar: Growing kids,

J. K. Foster: Growing kids, and it did take lots of food to keep us going.

David Dollar: Of course there was none of this not liking some of the food that's on the table like you see a lot of today too, in a lot of families, I bet. Whatever was there, I bet you were glad to eat.

J. K. Foster: That's right. We had appetite for whatever was put on the table.

David Dollar: Whatever was put there.

J. K. Foster: That's right. That's no question about that.

David Dollar: Yeah. Well, what about going to school? Did you have the opportunity back in the 1890s or so to do that, or the turn of the century?

J. K. Foster: Well, it was very, very little.

David Dollar: Mm-hmm.

J. K. Foster: When I was six years old, I went to school eight weeks, the man by the name of Rusko.

David Dollar: Rusko, down in Provencal?

J. K. Foster: Yes, in Provencal. And Rusko was just starting out in life. He was a young man, but he educated himself and he used to be a permanent lawyer right here in town.

David Dollar: Well, I'll be. And was teaching school there at first?

J. K. Foster: He was teaching on the beginning, he taught school to supply his needs to college.

David Dollar: Well, I'll be.

J. K. Foster: And he made a remarkable lawyer right here in Natchitoches. He passed away a few years ago, not many years ago, but a few years ago. But our schooling was very limited. Sometimes we didn't have but six weeks schooling the whole 12 months.

David Dollar: Goodness. Were most of the kids needed back on the farm, or was it just that you couldn't get teachers, or what was the situation? Why was there so little-

J. K. Foster: Financial affairs.

David Dollar: Financial, okay, I hear you.

J. K. Foster: They just didn't have the money to-

David Dollar: Couldn't pay the teacher any longer than that.

J. K. Foster: They couldn't pay the teacher any longer. It was all in financial affairs.

David Dollar: Yeah.

J. K. Foster: Because the mothers and fathers couldn't spare the children, if they would have had the school we went to.

David Dollar: Mm-hmm.

J. K. Foster: But we didn't have the school to go to. Well, I come up with a very little education. Well, when I was 12 years old, I commenced to work. But I didn't get any chance for any more school because somebody had to make a living. There's too many others.

David Dollar: You're right, you're right.

J. K. Foster: I worked.

David Dollar: Let me interrupt you right here. We need to take a short commercial. We'll come back and pick up where we left off. I'm interested to continue this conversation. We'll be right back with Mr. J.K. Foster right after this message from our sponsor, Peoples Bank and Trust Company.

In case you've just joined us, this is David Dollar on Memories, this morning visiting with Mr. J.K Foster. With Mr. Foster we've been talking about growing up down in Provencal and working at a very early age and not being able to attend much school for various reasons, and his family in the shape that most of the families were around there, poor but working and having enough food on the table for the family. Why don't we pick up there, Mr. Foster, and you fill us in on a little more about working in the family and such.

J. K. Foster: Well, there's one thing I would like to mention that you very seldom ever know of happening in one family. I had two deaf and dumb brothers and two deaf and dumb sisters.

David Dollar: Well, I'll be. No, you're right, you don't hear much about that.

J. K. Foster: No, sir, I said that don't occur very often. And they got their education in Baton Rouge. And one of the girls is deceased and one of the boys is deceased, and the other two is yet living.

David Dollar: Still living. You say they received their education in Baton Rouge?

J. K. Foster: Yes, sir.

David Dollar: How did your family go about that?

J. K. Foster: Well, that was a government affair. The state took care of that.

David Dollar: Uh-huh, uh-huh.

J. K. Foster: It was free. All that cost Mother and Father was the transportation getting them down there and their clothing. The rest of it is paid by the state, which was a state school.

David Dollar: Uh-huh. About when was this, and how old were they and how old were you when all this was going on?

J. K. Foster: Well, that'll take the right smart figuring, because they started when I believe one of them was seven and the other one was nine. And that made me about, just offhand speaking, must have made me about 18 years old, 18, 19, somewhere along there.

David Dollar: Were all four of the kids born when they entered the school? Or were several in the program and then another child came along, or was the family able to send all four children down at the same time? Or was it at different times?

J. K. Foster: It was at different times, because the two girls, there was only a couple of years' difference in the two girls, and they started together. Well, then right smart later on, the two boys was born, and they was born far enough apart though that one of them started the school ahead of the other, but they both finally went to the school in Baton Rouge.

David Dollar: And received the training and education for the dumb and the deaf?

J. K. Foster: That's correct, that's correct.

David Dollar: That's really something. In all the talking with the other folks on Memories, we'd never heard about educational opportunities for the disabled or the disadvantaged as early as that, near the turn of the century or so. I guess I was thinking more that that was a very new type thing existing somewhere around World War II, I guess.

J. K. Foster: Well, I don't know how old that institution is, but they did take care of my sisters and brothers.

David Dollar: Well, I'm glad you brought that up. I sure learned something today. Mr. Foster, we're just about out of time, and we'd like to try to close our show with some very special memory or something you'd like to share with us. Why don't you share your closing memory with us right now and we'll bring it to a close?

J. K. Foster: Well, there's one great mistake that I made in life and I've always regretted it. I just waited too long to surrender my life to the Lord. I was 33 years old when I surrendered my life to the Lord.

David Dollar: Where did this occur?

J. K. Foster: In Provencal, in a Baptist church in Provencal.

David Dollar: And I guess a pretty big change in your life came about, huh?

J. K. Foster: Why, I guess so, because I was married and had two or three children, and my wife told me three or four months after I was converted that it was just like living with a new man.

David Dollar: A different person, huh?

J. K. Foster: Altogether.

David Dollar: I think that's kind of what the Bible talks about, isn't it? Becoming new folks.

J. K. Foster: That's correct.

David Dollar: Different people altogether.

J. K. Foster: That's correct.

David Dollar: Well, we sure thank you for sharing that with us and all these memories you've given us today, Mr. Foster. It was quite an opportunity for us to come into your home, and we thank you for it.

J. K. Foster: Well, I appreciate you all coming and I appreciate being able to make this statement.

David Dollar: Thank you, sir. If any of you folks at home have got some memories you'd like to share, those along the likes of Mr. Foster or some that have never been mentioned before, we'd sure like to hear from you. We'd like to come into your home and talk to you about it, and the Retired Senior Volunteer Program office is helping us arrange our taping schedule. Their phone number is 352-8647, and we'd sure like to hear from you. We thank you for joining us today, David Dollar visiting in the home of Mr. J.K Foster. We thank you for joining us on Memories, and you all have a nice day.

David Dollar interviews J.K. Foster about driving mules, rabbit hunting, limited schooling, living with disabled siblings, and his Christian faith.

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