Oral History Interview with Jennie Wilson & Alice Wilson

BETSY BRINSON: This is an interview with Alice Wilson, uh the interview takes

place in the home of her mother in Mayfield, Kentucky, and the interviewer is Betsy

Brinson.

Brinson: Alice could you give me your full name please?

Alice Wilson: Alice Monyette Wilson.

BRINSON: And how do you spell Monyette?

Wilson: M-o-n-y-e-t-t-e.

BRINSON: Could you um, tell me please, Alice, where and when you were born.

Wilson: I was born in Mayfield, Kentucky on November 25, 1941.

BRINSON: Okay, so that makes you fifty. . .

Wilson: Fifty-eight, almost fifty-nine.

BRINSON: Okay. Okay, could we--thank you very much for agreeing to talk with me today here. I thought it would be useful to have, um, your input, and your recollections after talking to your mother here a little bit. And particularly, what I'm interested in, first I'm going to ask you some questions just about you, but also any recollections that you have about um, the whole Civil Rights Era in Mayfield, Kentucky. Um, tell me a little bit about your growing up, if you would please. Who was in your family while your were growing up?

WILSON: Um, my brother and sister were at home. My older brother, and sister were here. We, there were three of us here, Linda had moved away because she was the oldest and she had already gone away. We grew up in the area, we had friends in the neighborhood, there were several people who lived in the neighborhood. It was a very close-knit community. Everybody knew everybody else [laughing] and because of that, I think everybody really, really would take care and look out for the children who were around. It was a happy childhood. Fun, [laughing] lots of playing. It was great.

BRINSON: Did your family belong to a church?

WILSON: Yes, St. James AME Church, which still exists here in the city.

BRINSON: Good, okay. And where, tell me about your early education.

WILSON: My early education was in the elementary school, segregated elementary school, of Mayfield, and, well really elementary and middle school years, what we consider middle school now, so it would have been kindergarten through eighth grade, in a segregated situation.

BRINSON: And what was the name of the school?

WILSON: Dunbar.

BRINSON: Dunbar, Okay.

WILSON: Which has since closed, it closed a long time ago, actually it used to be on the corner, close to this area actually.

BRINSON: Is the building still there?

WILSON: The building is still there, the physical building is there, but they've changed it to a maintenance garage.

BRINSON: Uh-hmm, Okay. Um, what do you remember about your, any of your earlier teachers?

WILSON: My elementary teachers were actually very good. I don't remember being in large classes, as I remember the classes were small, so we did receive a lot of individual attention. Um, basic reading, and math skills, we were very strong. They were very good teachers. We had a good start.

BRINSON: When you say small classes, can you just estimate approximately how many?

WILSON: I would say probably fifteen, fifteen, sixteen. Classes weren't as large as they are today.

BRINSON: Um, did you have any favorite teachers?

WILSON: Um, actually I did, one was my second grade teacher, her name was Mrs. Schoolfield, and I think I learned the most from her. Especially with reading, because she loved to work with us with reading. She was a very good teacher.

BRINSON: Uh, this may be hard for you, if you ever even knew the answer, but, one of the things that we are trying to determine is, if any, where your teachers got their teacher training, where they did their own schooling. Had any of them gone to Kentucky State for example?

WILSON: I don't remember that...

JENNIE WILSON: Christy went to Paducah.

WILSON: I'm not sure whether they, they were educated in a Normal School situation, or what, I'm really not sure about that.

JENNIE WILSON: It was a school in Paducah, obviously that brung up the teachers, she was in school in my age, I don't know where all of them are.

WILSON: I don't think the requirements at that point were as, as strict as they are now. Perhaps it was two years of training, or something like that, but I don't, I really don't know the schools they attended.

JENNIE WILSON: That's right, ‘cause most of the teachers went to, down there two years and started teaching for good. And when they integrated everyone of them had to go to high school to get a pension. I do know that, and the reason how I know so well, I was in Social Security Office; and he was in there trying to get his teachers' retirement, and they told him that he--they'd have to go to school.

BRINSON: Well there was also a period in Kentucky, before places like Murray was integrated that teachers who were working on like Masters' degrees would go outside of the state, to places like Ohio State, and Indiana University, and some might have gone to Columbia Teachers College in New York City, and the state would give them scholarship money to do that rather than take them into Kentucky schools, and you wouldn't happen to recall whether any of your teachers in the black school here, might have been working on advanced degrees out of the state during this summer or . . .?

WILSON: Not to my knowledge, I couldn't absolutely say no, because I don't know, but not to my knowledge.

JENNIE WILSON: I can answer that, no.

BRINSON: No, Okay [laughter]. Do you recall anybody when you were coming along, any of your teachers?

JENNIE WILSON: No, I, I really wouldn't either.

WILSON: Only thing we--I don't even remember--we had to, I know the Principal of the high school--the school came from--he wasn't born at the; the one I remember, Mr. Stigger, his name is F.I. Stigger, and he came from another area to be the Principal of the Dunbar; other than that I don't--I really don't know.

BRINSON: Okay, I wonder while you were at the black school, did you have what we would have called any, then we would have called it Negro History education? Did any of your teachers . . .?

WILSON: Uh-hmm, no. No. And if so, very little. Not anything that was memorable.

BRINSON: Were you, so you were at the black school, and then there was a white school, were you aware of any differences between the two schools?

WILSON: Absolutely. [laughter}

BRINSON: Okay, tell me about that, please.

WILSON: [laughing] Absolutely. The biggest difference was in material. In textbooks, um workbooks, library materials, um, the segregated situation was lacking in many areas. Um, when I changed schools, I saw books that I had never seen before; and certainly a lot within those books that I did not know, so it was extremely hard to catch up. Because I was way behind. Once, once I passed the elementary grades, from middle school, during the middle school period, I think I fell behind. There was a major change there. And then once I got into high school, I had to work twice as hard to keep up. Especially, changing into a new situation.

BRINSON: So you finished the black school . .

WILSON: Black school, eighth grade.

BRINSON: Eighth grade.

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: And from there went to which school?

WILSON: Mayfield High School.

BRINSON: And that would have been what year?

WILSON: I think it was fifty-five.

BRINSON: Fifty-five?

WILSON: Uh-hmm.

BRINSON: So in the Supreme Court decision, Brown versus Board of Education, was fifty-four, and the implementation decision in fifty-five, and so the schools here actually moved that quickly to integrate? [laughter] That's unusual.

WILSON: [laughing] That was fifty-five, because I graduated in fifty-nine.

JENNIE WILSON: It was in the fifties, because my husband and I came down; and he came down and carried you to high school the first day of integration. We drove from Maryland--he's deceased now--and the first day--we had Maryland tags--and Sturgis, Kentucky was one of the places where they had a lot of trouble; and we drove through Sturgis that morning; there was no, we didn't see anything because it was early in the morning, and we were here visiting when they integrated Mayfield High School, and used to say. "Well there I was out there with Maryland tags carrying her to the first day that they integrated the high school." I was here, but I didn't go out with her, [laughing] he carried her out there .

BRINSON: How many other students were in your eighth grade class that would have gone to the high school?

WILSON: There were only ten of us that tried. And we actually did this on our own [laughing].

BRINSON: What do you mean? [laughter] Oh, okay, all right, so this was not the school board saying, we're going to integrate the school . . .

WILSON: No. No it was not.

BRINSON: Okay.

WILSON: Because [laughing]--here's the circumstance: we had, all of us had read information about what was going on in other parts of the country with the integrated schools. And the ten of us were friends, and I can remember we sat one night and we said, “Ah, I bet that would really shake up everybody if we decided to go to Mayfield High School.” And we laughed about it. [laughing} “Oh sure, sure, we're going to do this.” And nothing was said. And as time went on, we kept talking about it, to each other, and we decided, the ten of us, that we were gonna try it--and we did it. We had adult support, once we made a decision, but adults didn't help us make that decision.

BRINSON: Were there adults who counseled against you doing that, who might have been concerned about your safety, or . . .?

WILSON: The adults that I knew didn't.

BRINSON: And if you hadn't made that decision, where would you all have gone to school? Was there a black high school?

WILSON: We would have continued at Dunbar, ‘cause Dunbar …

BRINSON: Where you were?

WILSON: Right, went through twelfth grade. And on a fluke we decided we would do it, so we made whatever, whatever necessary paperwork; and I don't remember whether it was just a matter of signing something to say that you wanted to change from one to the other, or if we had to register the first day. I have forgotten that circumstance, but I think we just registered the first day. So instead of going to Dunbar High, we automatically, we went to Mayfield High, walked into the office, and said "We're here to register." And they didn't deny, they didn't deny us the registration. They were shocked, [laughing] I do remember that. They were absolutely shocked that we had walked in, and we did register; and I'm sure the telephones were ringing off the hook for that one. Because, of course, it involved the teachers there, it involved, I'm sure, City Council, how they were gonna handle this situation. I'm sure it threw everybody into turmoil, but it wasn't blocked. It was not blocked by those, the City Council, and those who were making decisions at the time. They didn't block it.

BRINSON: Was there any news publicity from it?

WILSON: In the local paper. I don't know how widespread it was in Kentucky.

BRINSON: Uh-huh, Okay. Now, of the ten of you, you were going into the ninth grade, but were they, did you have students at all levels of high school that went with you?

WILSON: No. We were all at the same level, we were all ninth graders. We had all finished eighth grade together, and we were going into ninth grade.

BRINSON: So what happened to the students above you at Dunbar? Like in tenth . . .

WILSON: They continued at Dunbar.

BRINSON: They went there.

WILSON: They continued, it was their choice, whether or not they wanted to go to Dunbar, or to go to Mayfield High, and some chose to stay there.

BRINSON: Okay, um what, and you did that without the counsel of any organization, or church, [laughter] or anything like that. . .

WILSON: [laughing] No.

BRINSON: Just the ten of you decided to. . .

WILSON: We just decided to go do it. And I, I talked to mother about it, all of us talked to our parents. And I remember asking momma, "What do you think about it", and she said, "If that is what your going to do, you want to do, try it." And that is what all of our parents said, "If that is what you really want to do, try it."

BRINSON: So you went the first day, did you begin classes that day?

WILSON: Hmm, that I'm a little fuzzy about. I think usually you registered first, and then you had a few days before you actually started classes. So there was a break in that time period. Of a few days, I believe, were we registered, but we didn't actually start school that day, maybe we registered on a Wednesday, but classes actually started on the following Monday of a full week.

BRINSON: Okay, so when classes actually started, how um, tell me about the teachers, how did they respond?

WILSON: Um, most were, were all right, most were good. A few didn't like the idea at all, and never did the entire time we were there. And those differences were definitely felt in their classes, by what they did.

BRINSON: Do you remember any specific examples?

WILSON: Hmmm, by not calling on you if you held up your hand, um, not giving you the extra time, if you requested. By generally ignoring you, within the class. Because they really didn't agree with it, and some others who were just students.

BRINSON: Did you . . .

WILSON: Like any others.

BRINSON: Did any of you ever receive grades that you thought were unfair based, that didn't really recognize the merit, but . . .?

WILSON: I can only remember one. That was an algebra teacher, who didn't give the extra help, and I guess I never felt I had done as well in that class as I could have, if I had had the extra time. Um, unfair, only in that sense. We weren't given any homework that was any different from anybody else's, but then I wasn't really prepared, as prepared as I felt I should be, so I needed the extra help at first, and he didn't give it.

BRINSON: Okay, how about the other students, how did they. . .

WILSON: They didn't like us very much. [laughing] They opposed the idea totally.

BRINSON: Did that stay the same way, or did it change over time, or . . .?

WILSON: For the first two years, it stayed that way.

BRINSON: And, so you and the other students had integrated it, did you stay together as a, sort of support group . . .?

WILSON: No, no, that was very carefully arranged, so we that realized later on, in that, preparing our schedules that there were never two of us in the same class, in the same time period within a class. [laughing]

BRINSON: Do you want to talk about why you think they did that?

WILSON: I'm not sure what the reasoning was at that point, except--I don't know what their thinking was, I really don't. Because there were only ten of us anyway, so we certainly were out-numbered from the rest of the student population, but there were never two of us in the same class, at the same time.

BRINSON: How many white students where there approximately, in your class?

WILSON: This is within the, that freshman class, or the whole school?

BRINSON: Well no, just your freshman class.

WILSON: Hmm, this included city and county students at that point.

BRINSON: Let me ask that another way. By the time you graduated, you would have had some to drop out probably, but how many of you graduated?

WILSON: Two.

BRINSON: Two of the ten?

WILSON: Two of the ten. There were two of us that graduated on time. There were other students that had to repeat a grade, or they failed, or they didn't catch up quite as quickly, or whatever. But, there were only two of us that graduated in that senior class on time.

BRINSON: And how many white students graduated in your senior class, what was the total class size?

WILSON: I would imagine two or three hundred wouldn’t you momma?

BRINSON: Really, that's a big school.

WILSON: Because it included--not that the high schools are split between city school and county schools--um, but at that time Mayfield High included both. So there were many students that were bused from all these surrounding areas, uh, some of the communities mom has mentioned, Wingo, and Fulton, and all of those places, they all came to Mayfield. They were brought in from the farms, from the farm areas of Mayfield. So it was a large high school.

BRINSON: What about, um, student organizations and things. Did you belong to any of them?

WILSON: Uh-umm, I did not. Um, there was so much going on, just on a daily basis that I think we had really gotten to a point where we really didn't want to join those organizations. It was hard enough just to keep up.

BRINSON: Uh-huh, were you ever encouraged to join the organizations by anybody?

WILSON: Not really, no, uh-umm.

BRINSON: I believe I heard earlier that you are a music teacher now . . .

WILSON: Yes, yes.

BRINSON: When did you first get interested in music?

WILSON: [laughing] When I was young. Um, I started piano lessons about seven, seven, eight years old. I guess it was around seven, and I was going for piano lessons with my sister, Fanny, who is now deceased; and we traveled to Paducah for private lessons. How we found out about that lady, I really don't know, the person who gave the lessons, but she was very good. So, I had a good um, basis to begin lessons. . .

JENNIE WILSON: We took you to another lady though . . .

WILSON: But that was later, but the beginning lessons were in Paducah with my sister and there was a nine-year difference in our ages, so my sister left for college. I continued lessons with the person in Paducah, and then eventually I had lessons with a professor at Murray State University.

BRINSON: Okay, and piano. . .

WILSON: Yes, piano lessons.

BRINSON: Did you sing at all, or in the chorus, in church . . .?

WILSON: Umm, only in church choir, um-hmm.

BRINSON: But did it ever, did you ever think you might like to join the school chorus, at the high school, or . . .

WILSON: I did not.

BRINSON: Okay, what about the other black students who were there, did they . . .?

WILSON: They didn't join either. They really didn't. Hmmm, maybe it was our own attitude, as well as the attitudes of those who were members of the organizations, and the, the, counselors, and those, the teachers that were in charge of the organizations, that they did not encourage us to join.

BRINSON: Um, I wanted to ask you about the guidance counselor, if there was any effort to, to work with you all toward selecting a college, or anything of that sort. If you had any experience like that?

WILSON: They didn't help us to select the college, no. Um . . .

BRINSON: Did they do that with anybody?

WILSON: I don't know. I don't know whether they did that with the white students or not. Umm, the counselors made, they made sure that we had enough credits and the correct courses to enter. They were, they did take care of that, but the choices that we made, were our choices, because we put, we submitted our own applications for the schools that we felt we were most interested in. This is the other person and myself, the two of us that graduated together.

BRINSON: And tell me again what happened to the other eight students? That's an incredibly high number to, you said one or two of them were a year behind you but . . .

WILSON: Some, some fell behind because they couldn't keep the work schedule, so they didn't pass to the next grade. Two, I think two, went back to Dunbar, they dropped out all together and went back to the old high school. Umm, the others stayed there, even though they were behind us, they did eventually graduate. They were maybe a year behind us. And they did eventually do it.

BRINSON: And when you graduated, then what? What did you do then?

WILSON: Did the schools, oh, what did I personally do?

BRINSON: Uh-hmm.

WILSON: I entered Hampton University.

BRINSON: In Hampton, Virginia?

WILSON: Virginia, yes Hampton, Virginia.

BRINSON: Do you know how long um, that the black high school kept going after you all entered?

WILSON: Hmm, it continued through my graduation, which was fifty-nine, and perhaps a few years beyond that. But then, the city changed the zoning--school zoning--and that really automatically integrated all of the schools. That, that changed the whole situation of the city. So, Dunbar was closed all together, um, for classes and that meant that all the students had to go to Mayfield High; and the same thing within the elementary schools, because there were different elementary schools in different sections of the city. So once they were--they did redistrict the area, it was automatically integrated. So that solved the whole problem.

BRINSON: Right. Do you recall, before you left, or do you recall hearing about after you left, were there any sit-ins or demonstrations here, in the early sixties, to open up restaurants, theatres, jobs. . .

WILSON: There were no sit-ins that I remember. There were no sit-ins, the only sit-ins that were going were the demonstrations that had to do with us attending Mayfield High School. And there were days when the students decided that they weren't going to classes with us, and all the students would come out on the campus and just stand there.

BRINSON: How long did that go on?

WILSON: [laughing] Oh, off and on for quite awhile. At least a year and a half of that time. It, there were periods of time when it was very quiet; and then there were other times when the students would, would make their own protest about our--because we were attending there. And on those days they would stand around on the campus and the communication was poor, because we would never—those of us--the ten of us going to the high school, would never really know those things were going on until we arrived. And I remember one morning, uh, the other person that graduated with me, her name was Dorothy, we were walking to school and we saw quite a few State Trooper cars along the way, State cars, and we said, "This is very unusual, for Mayfield." And we saw and more and more and more, and we realized we said, "Ooh, there must be something going on today.” [laughing] And sure enough when we go closer to the high school we could see all the students standing on the outside. They weren't going to class with us, and we walked through the door anyway.

BRINSON: Let me ask, how many students do you think were out there?

WILSON: The majority of them, there was some students who did not participate and they were inside in their homeroom classes, but the majority were on the campus.

BRINSON: Were they carrying any kind of signs?

WILSON: No, no signs.

BRINSON: Did they have any speakers, or they were just. . .

WILSON: No they just taunted us as we walked toward the school.

BRINSON: What did they say?

WILSON: Oh everything they could think of, that was negative.

BRINSON: And what about the Principal and the teachers, how did. . . .?

WILSON: The teachers were inside, the principal was standing at the door, we went in and we started classes. [laughter]

BRINSON: As far as you know the Principal never made any effort to bring the demonstrating students inside?

WILSON: Oh, yes he did. But, his, his way of handling that was to just go in, and let them know that nothing was going to stop because of what they were saying, and they had a choice to stand out there all day, or come to class.

BRINSON: Did you feel like, how did you feel that he handled that? Was that a good way to handle it, or . . .?

WILSON: He probably felt that was the best way to handle it, to not have an, an, a huge fight, or a real riot during that period of time. I think he was trying to keep it as quiet as possible without anybody getting hurt.

BRINSON: Did the police cars come regularly?

WILSON: [laughing] Oh yes. Yes.

BRINSON: Were they local police, or were they . . .

WILSON: Uh-huh, local police would come regularly too. At the beginning of the day they would ride around the school, around the block. Uh, we had family friends who came too. Sometimes they would drive us there, because we didn't have a car at the time. And if they heard anything on the radio, or they suspected anything was going on they would come and pick us up. This was other adults that were family friends.

BRINSON: Not the police wouldn't pick you up, but . . .

WILSON: No, no. No. no, family friends.

BRINSON: Family friends, okay.

WILSON: If they suspected it was like a rough day, and maybe we shouldn't walk, they would come and pick us up.

BRINSON: They would hear it on the radio, how did they hear that?

WILSON: I don't know how they would get that information, whether they would hear, “Oh, there are students on the campus today, there's a protest at Mayfield High School,” that kind of thing, and then they would come.

BRINSON: Did you, with any or all of the other ten students, did you ever talk about what you had done after the fact?

WILSON: [laughing]

BRINSON: Did you ever have any regrets, or did you continue to feel like you had made the right decision?

WILSON: It was hard, but we thought it was the right decision, because we all wanted to go to college.

BRINSON: And you thought you would have a better opportunity to go to college?

WILSON: Uh-hmm

BRINSON: Is there anything else that I haven't asked you about that, that you can . . .?

WILSON: Not that I can think of, it was tough but, we made it.

BRINSON: And so then you went on to Hampton?

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: Did you ever come back to live in Kentucky again?

WILSON: No.

BRINSON: Just to visit.

WILSON: Yes, just to visit with mother.

JENNIE WILSON: You had a job before you graduated, didn't you?

WILSON: Yes, I did, I worked you know right after graduation, but I would come home periodically to visit with mother. Um, and my, my knowledge of African American History, I obtained at Hampton. I got much more at Hampton than I ever. . .

END OF TAPE ONE SIDE ONE ALICE WILSON

BEGIN TAPE ONE SIDE TWO ALICE WILSON

BRINSON: You were starting to tell me about a paper.

WILSON: Right, I've got a paper that, this was a paper that I wrote for an English class, this is at Hampton, first year of Hampton, Freshman year. And, I told about some of the experiences with the newly integrated situation. My instructor was really interested in hearing about that, and uh, the other friend that graduated with me attended Wilberforce, and she did the same thing. She said some of the students couldn't believe that all that had gone on, just in an integrated high school.

BRINSON: Do you think you might have saved the paper?

WILSON: I doubt it [laughing] very seriously. If I have it, it would be buried so far below books and papers that I own. Oh, my. I probably did, but I'd have to search for it, I really would.

BRINSON: Okay. I'm just going to ask you, you were saying that after we turned the tape off, that when you went to Hampton that you were involved there.

WILSON: Oh definitely.

BRINSON: Tell me a little bit about . . .

WILSON: In, in organizations?

BRINSON: Well no, you were involved in some of the sit-ins and the demonstrations, and . . .

WILSON: Oh yes, yes, yes. Um, when I first went to Hampton, um, the Hampton area and Newport News, Norfolk areas were all segregated. The restaurants and everything were segregated, and I participated in the marches. We had several sit-ins in the restaurants in Hampton especially. There were quite a few students that were arrested. I never was arrested, but I did march in all three areas.

BRINSON: Okay, thank you. I was thinking also, to ask you about the ten students. Um, how did the ten break down in terms of gender, boy/girl. Was it about equal; was there more boys then . . .

WILSON: No it wasn't there were more girls. As I remember there were only two boys and the rest of us were girls.

BRINSON: And that was your whole class?

WILSON: That was, that wasn't my whole class from Dunbar, it was the ten of us who decided to apply at Mayfield, or register at Mayfield High.

BRINSON: Okay, but what I'm, I'm not asking this right. The ten of you, made up the whole class, but were there other students?

WILSON: Oh there were other students at Dunbar.

BRINSON: That continued to go to Dunbar?

WILSON: Right, right. They continued to go to Dunbar. Um, it was really their choice at that point, whether or not they wanted to continue there or go to Mayfield High, because Dunbar hadn't closed; and it remained open until that group graduated. Some never made a change.

BRINSON: Did the ten of you make known to the other students, that you were going to do this, and invite them to go with you? Other students in your class.

WILSON: There were a few that we had told. Um, outside of, of our little group, and they didn't want to do it. They said, “No.”

BRINSON: Why do you think that you had more girls than boys in the ten who elected to go?

WILSON: Hmm, I'm not sure. I won't say. . . . I'm not sure about that. I wouldn't say because we were, had, we were stronger or we wanted it more, or anything like that, I don't think that was the reason, no.

BRINSON: Okay, you just . . .

WILSON: I really don’t. I think that's just how it happened, and those two just happened to be a part of the group.

BRINSON: Okay, so the girls, it wasn't that, that you all were the better students, or anything like. . .

WILSON: No, no.

BRINSON: I don't want to lead you too much, but I'm just curious.

WILSON: No, no, no. Uh-uh.

BRINSON: . . . Telling me the advantages. . .

WILSON: All right, the advantages of going to Mayfield High School. This is another advantage. Um, when I first went to Hampton, freshman year at Hampton. [Interruption]

BRINSON: We were talking about the advantages and disadvantages.

WILSON: The advantage of going to Mayfield High School. There were many disadvantages, and I guess the disadvantages were about joining organizations, extracurricular organizations; and we really didn't do that at the time. A later on I wished that I had tried for some of them. But I think it was so hard to get through the classes, that I didn't want to fight through that for an extracurricular activity as well. But, advantage: when I first went to Hampton--freshman year at Hampton--um, one of my assignments in one of my classes was to, to um, write a paper. We were given a subject; we had to do research; we had to go to the library and look for information; um catalog that information; write the paper; bring the supporting ideas, and I was able to do that. And there were other students in that freshman class that had no idea what the instructor was talking about. And the same thing happened to my friend, Dorothy at Wilberforce. She said, when she went for her--during her freshman year--she was really able to do a lot of things that she found out there were other students that could not do.

BRINSON: Academically.

WILSON: Academically, and we were really happy then, that we had gone through it, because we were prepared. So that was a good part.

BRINSON: Okay, we, can I go back to why there might have been more girls than boys in the ten?

WILSON: [laughing] Uh-huh, sure. Sure.

BRINSON: That you were recalling that Dunbar a . . .

WILSON: Dunbar had a very good basketball team, and perhaps the guys really wanted to stay there to be a part of that. Because Dunbar had won several championships for the area. So that could have been the reason. Not because they were not academically able to keep up, because I think they would have been, but they just didn't choose to do that. And perhaps they just didn't choose to go through the harassment either. That they knew they would face.

BRINSON: The two boys who went with you, though, were they, do you know where they involved in athletics?

WILSON: Uh-huh, they did not.

BRINSON: Is there anything else that . . . ?

WILSON: Not that I can think of. [laughing] [interruption]

WILSON: [laughter] It was a very interesting time because, because a, everything was changing. The climate was changing, attitudes. . . African Americans were changing their attitude about themselves. So, it was changing toward being very proud of who you were, not that that didn't always exist, but to I guess, make it a public announcement. Ah, it was a change of attitude, and that was good.

BRINSON: I'm curious, you're a teacher in the New Jersey public school system?

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: And what are you teaching?

WILSON: I teach music.

BRINSON: Music, so you get children of all. . . .

WILSON: I'm a vocal teacher.

BRINSON: All ages, of. . . .

WILSON: I have children from Kindergarten to sixth grade, now. I have taught older students, through the middle school age. But now I am teaching kindergarten through sixth.

BRINSON: Do you think that your experience in high school has affected the way you teach now, in anyway?

WILSON: Probably. I'm sure it has, because I teach many ethnic groups now. Asian population, very large Asian population, very large Hispanic population, African American, and white. And I'm sure it has, it has shaped that, definitely.

BRINSON: Okay.

WILSON: In a good way [laughing].

BRINSON: Okay, thank you.

END TAPE ONE SIDE TWO ALICE WILSON

BEGIN TAPE ONE JENNIE WILSON

BETSY BRINSON: August 17, year 2000. This is an interview with Jennie Wilson. The interview takes place in her home in Mayfield, Kentucky, and the interviewer is Betsy Brinson.

BRINSON: Ms. Wilson would you give me your full name, please?

JENNIE WILSON: Jennie Hopkins Wilson.

BRINSON: And tell me where and when you were born, please.

WILSON: I was borned in January 2nd, 1900, in uh I guess you'd call it up near Baltimore where they sold slaves. Uh Western Kentucky I guess. Do you know where Baltimore is?

BRINSON: No, I don't. Baltimore, Kentucky?

WILSON: Well that's where they took the slaves to let people buy them, you know.

BRINSON: Okay, is that on the river?

WILSON: No, it's no where . . .

BRINSON: Okay. Ms. Wilson we were talking about Baltimore, Kentucky, which is where you were born . . .

WILSON: No, well between Baltimore and Mayfield.

BRINSON: Oh, Baltimore and Mayfield, Okay.

WILSON: Uh-huh, between that. . . .

BRINSON: Were you born in the country on a farm?

WILSON: Yeah on a farm.

BRINSON: Okay, and. . .

WILSON: And they uh, when they got out of that army they'd discharge them; they gave everybody some land, all of them was around in the same area. That was in, at World War, I mean Civil War.

BRINSON: The Civil War, they gave um, the African Americans, or blacks, or Negro's, or colored, depending on what they called them, they gave them land in that area.

WILSON: Gave the slaves land, and. . .

BRINSON: And did your family have any land there?

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: Your family had been slaves?

WILSON: Yep. My mother and father both were slaves.

BRINSON: Okay, do you remember any stories that they told you about slavery?

WILSON: Yeah, I remember some of them. My mother said that they were good to her. And that she had her little kitten and these kids like, my kids are crazy about cats now. And said that they let her bring a cat and she roll over and killed it one night, and where she was asleep, and how she dreaded to go to bed but she said she slept on a pallet in the kitchen. That's where she slept.

BRINSON: So she worked in the house?

WILSON: As, as she, yes. She a kept kids, children, uh-hmm.

BRINSON: Okay, did she do any cooking?

WILSON: She was a expert cook, and I took after her, I have cooked for a hundred people. . .

BRINSON: A hundred people, that's a lot.

WILSON: By myself. I couldn't serve it, but I have cooked for that many people.

BRINSON: What do you know about your father, um, under slavery?

WILSON: Well he said they weren't uh, mean to him, but he was the first one to go, to go to Paducah. They were slaves when they'd go to Paducah to join, and he told how long it took him to walk from Baltimore, Kentucky, he had to hide, out of fear of being captured.

BRINSON: So he wasn't free, he was running away?

WILSON: No he was joining up with the, some . . . I got all the papers here somewhere in a box.

BRINSON: He was joining the Union Soldiers?

WILSON: That's right. You know where the box I have . . .

ALICE WILSON: She has the papers in there.

BRINSON: Tell me please, what your fathers full name was?

WILSON: All I know is Wesley Hopkins.

BRINSON: Wesley Hopkins, and your mothers name?

WILSON: Vernie Hopkins. And he was, you want to know the slaves they were under?

BRINSON: If you know that.

WILSON: Yes I do. Uh, my mother's lady in Wingo was a relative to the people that my mother was a slave on, that lives in Wingo.

BRINSON: And Wingo . . .

WILSON: Kentucky. It's about three or four miles from here.

BRINSON: From here, Okay.

WILSON: And my father, I had a paper on that, and my friend borrowed it and took it away from me; but then he was sent somewhere else, and the boy said he was going to bring it to me, but he never have brought it.

BRINSON: Did your parents tell you any stories about your father serving in the war?

WILSON: Uh, he was wounded. And oh, there's a little book with a lot in it, in there. I tell you a news lady that had a newspaper, cut out the important parts and it's in one of those drawers in my . . .and it tells about where--it'll tell you all about it--because there's a book, but I never could get it, and the lady--I worked for her for years--and they got the book, borrowed it from some people up north, and cut all the important parts out.

BRINSON: They cut the parts out?

WILSON: About my father.

ALICE WILSON: They took the, the, some of the supporting papers about her dad. But I have some papers that I am sending with you, that will substantiate everything that she is saying about grandfather.

BRINSON: Okay, good. So your father was wounded?

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: Um, do you know where? Where that was?

WILSON: Yes, he uh, he had a limp as long as he lived.

BRINSON: So he was wounded in his leg?

WILSON: Yes, yes.

BRINSON: But do you know where, what part of the country?

WILSON: He hurt his foot. It'll tell in there what happened to him. ‘Cause Mr. Barton, he was a teacher, I mean he got all the record from Washington, and he cut important part out. They loaned me the book, and he and the editor lady I worked for cut all the important[s] out and put it in this book; and it's all right there.

BRINSON: Did your, was your father ever recognized for his contribution to the war, by the federal government?

WILSON: Well he drew a little pension, but that's all I know. But uh my mother drew twelve dollars, I believe, every three months or something like that, after he died.

BRINSON: Uh-hmm, as his widow. Okay, what um, what happened to your parents after slavery?

WILSON: Well they gave them, they gave everybody a piece of land. And they, and I guess, I don't know how they married or anything like that; but she told--but she had told about how they would have dances, that was when they was slaves. And like somebody would buy whole lots of slaves and then they let them have dances. And she'd tell how they'd dance and said they'd dance barrel of molasses down the hill rolling around when they come, and said she'd get off on my father and dance up to him and turn around when she got there. [laughing].

BRINSON: Do you know how your mother and father met? Did they ever tell you that story?

WILSON: No, uh-huh. I don't know. . .

BRINSON: Did they have any children while they were still slaves?

WILSON: No, they did not.

BRINSON: Okay, and you said that your mother slept on a pallet on the kitchen floor of the main house, where did your father sleep?

WILSON: I don't know, see he, he had slipped off and joined in Paducah. He was the first one, it'll be in that book Mr. Barton got. He was the first one to go, and he walked all the way from Baltimore, Kentucky, hiding at night to get to Paducah. He was the first one to join.

BRINSON: And he was a slave when he joined?

WILSON: He was a slave when he joined, but he slipped, he walked, and he said he'd hide at night and go in the day time, and when you got to Paducah you was free.

BRINSON: Okay, I want to go back just a minute. Forgive me, I'm going to ask you a lot of questions that you may not know the answers to, and that's Okay. Um, back on the farm when they were slaves, did they have another house that they lived in at all?

WILSON: They gave everybody a piece of land, and I guess the material to build them.

BRINSON: Now that was after the war that they gave them the land.

WILSON: Yes that was after the war. And my father built his own cistern and house, such as it was.

BRINSON: Do you have any brothers and sisters, or did you have any brothers and sisters?

WILSON: I think my mother had about fifteen [laughing].

BRINSON: And where were you, were you the youngest or the oldest, or. . .

WILSON: My mother was fifty-one years old when I was born.

BRINSON: I thought maybe that she might have been--that's kind of amazing isn't it?

WILSON: Yeah and I know I remember nursing her, because I was petted; because the rest of them was grown and married, and had children; but they was so old, I was the only old baby out there. Old folks baby.

BRINSON: So your family made their living by farming?

WILSON: By share cropping.

BRINSON: Share cropping.

WILSON: You know, get so much and then to have money, at that time like when they had wheat, they had a flasher, and like in modern time they had some way to fix the plow; but they had this flour mill and they would go and live in tents and things, and pitch this wheat up there and make flour.

BRINSON: So they would stay in tents as long as they were working there to make the flour?

WILSON: Yeah, see that was after they give them land to make a living by. And we were share croppers, and I know that he was wounded. And sometimes when he'd get the crop out--all of my brothers and sisters were older than me, and there's four years difference between me and the twins--and we would uh, we went to work early. We'd help in--you know like if he--he was wounded and when he couldn't go my mother took us, and at six years old I was pulling worms off and suckers off tobacco; and when I first started out them, with them worms it made me so sick, but you get used to anything. And my mother would take the twins and my mother took a grandchild ‘cause his mother come to town to work, and we would all do suckering and just things like that. And now as we grow older they made their own molasses. You know had sorghum mills, and they'd raise you know, the canes that make sorghum; and had horses that would go around and get the juice. And then they had a great big thing and it had petitions in it, and they'd stand there and make the molasses.

BRINSON: Okay, so your family grew tobacco and wheat. Did they grow anything else?

WILSON: They grew corn, and we raised all the food we'd eat, the gardens. They had all vegetables, beans, peas, potatoes, and the government gave them fruit trees; and we had apple trees, and pear trees, and apricots, and you know they had goose berries and raspberries. They gave them all kinds of stuff to make a living with.

BRINSON: Your memory is wonderful.

WILSON: If it wasn't for my hip, I have an artificial hip. I worked all up until about two years ago.

BRINSON: What kind of work did you do?

WILSON: Uh, anything that come up. My mother was a good cook, and I have cooked for a hundred people; and like if they were having a dinner party, I would go and they always wanted me to make rolls, and then I'd, would just learn how to cook everything.

BRINSON: Right, so you make those yeast rolls that are so good.

WILSON: Yes I did. And I . . .

BRINSON: I haven't really never learned how to do that very well. I'm envious. [laughter]

WILSON: I did that until about three years ago. My hip just, I got a rod in my leg, and it began to give out on me and I couldn't cook like I did.

BRINSON: Okay. Let me go back and ask you, you said when your brothers and sisters grew up that they would come back and help with the farming sometime when your father’s wound was bothering him. Did all of your brothers and sisters stay in the area?

WILSON: Yes, but they . . . see as everyone got old enough--they, in Mayfield they hired cooks--they gave them three dollars a week to cook three meals a day. And as the girls got old enough they came to town and started cooking for three dollars a week, which they thought was a mint. Because I have worked, when I started to work, I wasn't making but a quarter an hour. When my father died, I was twelve years old, and my brother was, I guess four years older; and they went to work carrying water on the railroad when they didn't have you know, signals. And water, they had to carry ice-water--ice. And I was put in a white home at twelve years old, and I never had but six [grades of education]; we had slave children had three months a year, and the teacher would take a test at the courthouse; and then she'd teach. But I did get to the--as we grew older, they got a little better teachers, and I got to the fifth grade. And then from six to twelve--after I got to twelve years old--that's when my father died--and we all didn't have nothing after his [pension] was cut out. My mother had to get a pension, and it took a year or two to get that. And she would go around--like a big family--and if they had a wash-pot outdoors and it was snow or whatever, and do laundry work. I remember before I got . . . the boys was older than me, they could go to school, but I would have to go with her. I remember I was a little girl and the people she washed for would let--if I'd go to sleep--I remember they made me a pallet in the house there, and she washed on the south side of the house and would hang the clothes; and see we didn't have cold suet, and they'd freeze dry. People out there didn't have no, like we have now.

BRINSON: Let me go back and ask you a couple of questions about things that you just said. First off, did you have any other family that fought in the war, besides your father?

WILSON: Uh, everybody around Pryorsburg and around there in Hickman County and in that area all of them, we lived all around in a hut, all the soldiers, they give them all a piece of land near Baltimore.

BRINSON: Uh-hmm, so all of the men had actually worked, or had fought in the war as soldiers with your father?

WILSON: Yes, they gave them, all of them part land and like my father lived here, and over there, and over there, and over there. Scattered around, and all of us was share-croppers.

BRINSON: Okay, but now if you had been a slave, and you were freed, and you hadn't fought in the war, could you get land then? Or you could only get it if you fought in the war?

WILSON: No, you didn't, nobody got free land but them. See when they, when there wasn't nobody out there the land was, was out there.

BRINSON: Okay. So the land only went to the soldiers.

WILSON: Yeah. They just give everybody a piece of land and a salary. Yes they did. And we all lived in a, like Pryorsburg, in about three mile area around in Baltimore area like.

BRINSON: Okay, I want to go back to, you were telling me about your teacher and your education. Did you um, when you started with your teacher, were there other children with you, were you . . .

WILSON: My twin brothers.

BRINSON: Your twin brothers, okay. And did you have to go somewhere to meet your teacher, like a . . . ?

WILSON: No, like see, they put, put a teacher out there and the teacher boarded with us. And she gave my mother five dollars a month for board, but she taught me at night is the reason I got to the fifth grade. Because she wasn't paying my mother much, and then they didn't know, they just took a test at the Courthouse and . . .

BRINSON: And how long would the teachers stay with you?

WILSON: We had three months school a year.

BRINSON: Okay, so she lived with you for the three months . . .

WILSON: She lived in the house with my mother.

BRINSON: For three months?

WILSON: Uh-huh.

BRINSON: And she also taught other children in the . . .

WILSON: In the school. She had a little school, country schoolhouse.

BRINSON: That's what I'm asking. Okay. So there was a schoolhouse.

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: Did it have a name? Did the schoolhouse have a name? Did you name it anything?

WILSON: I think they called it Obion.

BRINSON: Old Pine?

WILSON: Obion. O-b-i-o-n.

BRINSON: What does that mean?

WILSON: I don't know, ‘cause the church was Obion Church and Obion School.

ALICE WILSON: It's a little community outside Mayfield.

BRINSON: Okay, and it's O-b-. . .

ALICE WILSON: O-b-i-o-n.

BRINSON: Okay.

ALICE WILSON: Obion. It's the name of a place.

BRINSON: Okay. And how many children do you think, would have gone to that school while she was teaching there?

WILSON: Everybody in that area.

BRINSON: Do you think that might have been ten children or thirty children, or. . .

WILSON: Uh, let's see, all the slave children were around in there. All the people that were in the Army, like my father and, and, and everybody that went to the Army they went. Now some of them was in the Pryorsburg area; and we were three months out, we didn't get but three months, well none of us got but three months a year schooling.

BRINSON: Uh-hmm, okay so at the end of the three months then she would move on somewhere else to teach other children.

WILSON: No, that was all of it. That was all of her school year.

BRINSON: Oh it was. What did she do after three months.

WILSON: I don't know. ‘Cause she lived right there in that corner house.

BRINSON: Oh really. Across the street?

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: Um . . .

WILSON: Well see I was still out there in the country.

BRINSON: You said when you were twelve and your father died, you moved to a white house.

WILSON: No. Mother was still in the country.

BRINSON: Okay.

WILSON: And my sisters as they got older, they came to town and made--cooked three meals a day for five dollars a week.

BRINSON: And where were you?

WILSON: I was too--see I was--some white lady asked them did they have anymore sisters, and they told them that I was out there twelve years old and my mother put me there; and I never did go to school no more. And I learned how to cook, and I could--my mother made her own yeast, they did everything; and I was sorry I didn't ask her how to do it, but I didn't have much time, and. . . .

BRINSON: Were you twelve years old when you started to cook for . . .

WILSON: When my daddy died that was it. ‘Cause it took a good while to get her pension. And then the two boys were put--they was a railroad about three miles from us--they were water boys, just any kind of job they could get; and I was put in this white home and they taught me how to cook. And after I grew up I knew how to do it because old people could really cook. And they made biscuits, and they had slaves and they'd beat them to rise. I remember that my mother said at one time that the lady that she made a cake, and said that they was another slave in there with her and said, "Oohhh this cake sure is good." She said one of them said to the other ones, "If it hadn't been for that old black sweat rolled in there it wouldn't have been so good." Wasn't no air conditions no where. You had a six iron stove and I mean it was . . .

BRINSON: It was hot, yeah. When did you get married? When did you meet your husband?

WILSON: I married in thirty, and he died in fifty-five.

BRINSON: So you married him in 1930, so you were a married couple for twenty-five years before he died.

WILSON: Let's see, I guess.

BRINSON: Okay, how did you meet him?

WILSON: Uh, while I was here working in town cooking, and then later on my mother got disabled and we had to move to town.

BRINSON: Okay, so you were living in town and you met him?

WILSON: Yes, yes.

BRINSON: And was he from Mayfield?

WILSON: Yes. But they got, they got six months of school in Mayfield, but I don't. . .

BRINSON: Had he grown up in Mayfield? Did his parents live in Mayfield, his family and all?

WILSON: His family lived, they all live here in Mayfield. And we thought this was way a big city. [laughing]

BRINSON: Well it probably was. [laughter] Tell me your husbands full name, if you can please.

WILSON: Beg pardon?

BRINSON: Tell me your husbands name?

WILSON: Johnny Wilson.

BRINSON: Okay, and how did he uh, make his living? You were cooking…

WILSON: He was a barber.

BRINSON: Oh, did he get any training for that somewhere?

WILSON: I don't know.

BRINSON: You don't know.

WILSON: Uh-huh.

BRINSON: Well that was a good job to have, wasn't it?

WILSON: I guess, but it didn't pay much. [laughter]

BRINSON: [laughing] Okay.

WILSON: I know it wasn't good enough that I didn't educate the children myself.

BRINSON: Okay, I want to go back now and ask you, to the Civil War, one more time. You told me about your father, but do you remember the names of any other men in the neighborhood that went off to . . .?

WILSON: John Jones, and Uncle Pete Mayes, and let's see if I can think of any other.

BRINSON: They were your uncles?

WILSON: I know the one, Uncle Green Gregory.

BRINSON: Green?

WILSON: I think you'll find it all in that little book Cookie's got, ‘cause Mr. Barton made it. He got it from Washington, D.C., and the editor here--I worked for her--and I, they tried to order the book; and while they had the book, uh he sent for it--but he couldn't--it was something. Some of the my color people went up north, and they kind of got educated and they were. . . got there working where they could get it; and oh guys in Washington, D.C., and they got it and they loaned me the book. And I showed it to Mr. Barton, and then Ms., the editor I worked for, they cut the important parts of my family out and it's all in that book.

BRINSON: Okay. I'm going to jump ahead now, and ask you about voting. Do you remember when you first voted?

WILSON: When I was old enough.

BRINSON: Okay, but now blacks in Kentucky, or men, male blacks could vote in Kentucky late Nineteenth Century, but women couldn't vote, regardless of their race, until about 1920, 1921, in Kentucky.

WILSON: Well I didn't vote until I was old enough. But since then, I vote every year.

BRINSON: Would you mind telling me which party you vote for?

WILSON: Well my father was in the war--and the Republicans--and I didn't know nothing, they just said vote for our benefit; and I voted a Republican ticket. And as it went by I learned more from people, and I changed to Democrat, oh years ago, and I've been voting every since.

BRINSON: Have you ever been active in politics?

WILSON: No.

BRINSON: Has anybody in your family been active in politics?

WILSON: No.

BRINSON: But your mother never voted?

WILSON: Yes. No, none of them didn't vote, because my mother was sold on a rock and brought here.

BRINSON: Okay. Even later?

WILSON: No, well see all of them had big families. Now Uncle John, and my father, they was all in there together. He had two sets of twins, I could call them and it would take me a long time. And the women they took care of all these children and back there, women minded them just like they were children, they never did sass them and--[laughing]--sass their husbands.

BRINSON: Okay, now I'm going to jump ahead and ask you some questions about the nineteen forties and fifties and sixties, and that whole period we called the Civil Rights Struggle, um that was happening everywhere, but what we want to know from you, is if there was anything happening in Mayfield? Was there an NAACP Chapter that people might have belonged to?

WILSON: Uh, if it did, I didn't know about it.

BRINSON: Was there, or there might have been a group with another name?

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: And it might not even be a name that we would even know that decided that they were going to do something about segregation. Do you have any recollection of that happening in Mayfield?

WILSON: No, because see when I was born. . .

End Side ONE TAPE ONE JENNIE WILSON

BEGIN SIDE TWO TAPE ONE JENNIE WILSON

BRINSON: . . .The 1950's, when you would have been fifty years old.

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: Do you remember, at that point, uh that black people couldn't eat in restaurants, they couldn't go to theatres, they couldn't sit. . . .?

WILSON: Yeah, I remember.

BRINSON: Tell me what you remember.

WILSON: Uh, It's been a many a, it's been a long time ago. We haven't been—we--like, I worked in a white church forty years and the restaurant was right across there. Well sometime like, if they had something on Sunday, I had to keep it clean all day, you'd have to get your food out the window. Yes, I remember that. And I remember when your going to--when they was in school--we'd go on a train, and after we left, when we got on a train in Fulton, it was all colored here and white over here. And then one time [laughing] I come home, and I went back with somebody kin to me; and they said, “Move, you have to go to the front.” She says, "I'm happy here, I've been right in here all the time." She said, "I know, but you have to go." That was after, but there was a time we had to ride in the back of a train.

BRINSON: Do you remember going shopping and not being able to try on anything?

WILSON: Well, when I began working, you know, like for rich people, and they had kids, they'd give me clothes. They'd give me like, they had clothes. And what I did, I was good at it, ‘cause my mother was a good cook, and I, uh it fell off on me.

BRINSON: But now in the fifties in most places, and what I'm trying to get at is whether this was true in Mayfield too, if you wanted to go and buy a pair of shoes, or a hat, or anything for you, or for your daughters . . .

WILSON: We could do it.

BRINSON: You could do it. . .

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: . . . But would they let you try things on so that you knew that they were the right size?

WILSON: Yeah, we tried on shoes, ‘cause in the fifties, [asking Alice Wilson] wasn't you in college?

ALICE WILSON: We, we uh used to go to the shoe stores, I mean we never had any problems.

BRINSON: But before 1960?

WILSON: Oh yes. But before 1960 [asking Alice Wilson] you'd graduated from college hadn't you?

ALICE WILSON: Oh yeah, I wasn't even here then. [laughing] But I know what you're asking. I went to the first integrated high school situation here in Mayfield in the fifties, that same time period.[laughter]

BRINSON: Well I want to ask you about that. Were there any demonstrations here in the sixties for equal rights?

ALICE WILSON: Uh-hmm.

BRINSON: Can you tell me about those?

WILSON: Well I don't know too much about it because see I was still in the country until my father died. But they was.

BRINSON: But I'm talking about 1960, you were in Mayfield then.

WILSON: Yes, I was here then.

BRINSON: Okay.

WILSON: But way back, I, they, you know they hung colored people.

BRINSON: They had lynchings.

WILSON: Yeah, they, they, one colored man was killed and uh, they carried him out to the edge of town and hung him. And then they hung one white man, and they said his name was Tom Tinker; and said that he told them to--he wanted to get his shoes on, and he told them that where he was going he wouldn't need no shoes. And they took him out there. But they hung colored people too.

BRINSON: Do you know why they hung these two men? What did they say they had done?

WILSON: Uh, I, I . . .

BRINSON: You don't remember.

WILSON: I remember, but I don't want to tell it.

BRINSON: Are you sure?

WILSON: Should I tell it? [asking Alice Wilson]

ALICE WILSON: What's that?

WILSON: Why they hung a colored man?

ALICE WILSON: I don't know.

WILSON: I don't either.

BRINSON: Well usually they hung black men because they thought maybe they had done something to white women. It wasn't true, but that's what. . .

WILSON: Well you want me to tell you?

BRINSON: Um-hmm.

WILSON: [laughing] Should I? [asking Alice Wilson]

ALICE WILSON: I don't know, I don't know anything about it.

WILSON: Well they said there's one colored man, uh, [interrupted]

ALICE WILSON: I don't know, but if it's hearsay she doesn't want. . .

WILSON: This is not hearsay, it's was in my time because everybody was. . .

BRINSON: This would have been about when, how old were you when this happened?

WILSON: I was old enough to know it was scary, and people worried about it.

BRINSON: Were you still a child, or were you grown up?

WILSON: Yeah, I wasn't grown good.

BRINSON: Okay.

WILSON: It was in my day, when I was under twenty.

BRINSON: What happened.

WILSON: They hung several colored people out here, up there.

BRINSON: Did you see it?

WILSON: No.

BRINSON: Okay.

WILSON: See they had hangings, and then uh, they passed a law like if they had anymore hangings, they were going to take the Courthouse away from them because see you could leave Mayfield and go to Paducah and you was free. ‘Cause that's were my daddy joined, that's were he joined the Army, in Paducah, Kentucky. And he told how many days it took him to slip off and walk down there.

BRINSON: Okay, okay. Um, was there anything else that I haven't asked you, that you think is important to tell me?

WILSON: No, only that, only I've told you that kids had to--when the soldiers that were wounded--when they got old enough to pluck worms and sucker tobacco, they, I went to the field and suckered and wormed tobacco; and when they'd first go and make us pick them worms out, it would make us sick, but we finally got used to anything. And then they, like flour and meal, well they raised wheat. I remember my daddy when they were going to harvest the wheat, they had a wheat thrasher; and all the old soldiers around there would take quilts and things around there and sleep in white peoples barns and pitch that in there to make flour.

BRINSON: Let me ask you this, when your mother had all of her children, who helped her have her babies? Did she have a . . .

WILSON: Mid-wife.

BRINSON: Did you ever know the mid-wife in this area?

WILSON: No. She never did. They never did, they would never tell us nothing much.

BRINSON: Your mother and father wouldn't tell you much?

WILSON: They'd tell some things, that just things about, like she'd tell me about dreading to go to bed with kittens. But this woman in Wingo, she called me since they been here, she was kin to the people that was, my mother was a slave under. Bruis Watts.

BRINSON: Tell me about your children. How many children do you have?

WILSON: Four.

BRINSON: Four. And can you name them for me?

WILSON: This is one of them, Linda, Cookie, . . .

ALICE WILSON: Alice

WILSON: Alice, Frank, and Fannie.

BRINSON: And how old is the oldest one?

ALICE WILSON: I don't tell my age. [laughing]

BRINSON: I'm just trying to get a sense more of her life story in terms of. . . . Okay.

ALICE WILSON: Right. Right. I've been around a while, but I don't tell my age. [laughter]

BRINSON: When did you have your first baby?

WILSON: Nineteen-nineteen or 1918, somewhere around in there.

BRINSON: And did you have anybody to help you have your baby, like a mid-wife or . . .

WILSON: Country doctor.

BRINSON: A country doctor, oh, okay. Can you tell me about who that was?

WILSON: No, I'm like Cookie, I. . .

BRINSON: You don't want to tell me about that? Okay, but it was a doctor who helped other women have there babies too?

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: Okay. Was that here in Mayfield?

WILSON: Out near Graves, near Baltimore where the slaves. . .

BRINSON: All right, well I think I'm going to stop here for a minute if you don’t mind, and let me talk to your daughters; and then maybe we’ll come back and talk a little bit more—if that’s all right. [Interruption]

BRINSON: Let me ask you that again, did you ever think that you would live to be a hundred years old?

WILSON: Yes I did. I, I, if I hadn't of had this hip, I'd of made a hundred and ten or twenty, but I still keep my own house. I have somebody an hour and a half, and. . .

BRINSON: How old did your mother live to be?

WILSON: Eighty-four.

BRINSON: And anybody else in your family live to be a hundred?

WILSON: No. No.

BRINSON: And you said it was because you were a workaholic and you had a good constitution?

WILSON: Yeah, I guess it was. How far back, I don't how, I wonder sometime when I look around all my people, I have a great-great niece way up, but I had one great niece that was ninety years old. All my sisters children was courting when I was born, my older sisters. And I was a little girl and they was big, courting, and I was calling them aunt, and they was calling me aunt, and here I am down here.

BRINSON: You were going to tell me about your children's education?

WILSON: Mr. Lyon Carter Barton, you know he, he's out the high school and all. And he found out that I was a Civil War Veteran, and some teacher came here and, and uh, Mr. Stigger, and he found out that they could go to Hampton, Virginia, as a work student. But it took them five years, so when they graduated from high school--she was Valedictorian and she went to, graduated from Mayfield High--and two of my kids went to Howard University, and two went to Hampton Institute. But, this one worked her way through school. It took her five years, and any child, if you could get the record that your father was a Civil War Veteran, and he wanted an education--she worked four years and the last year I had to send some money, but I sent her a coat, but she worked her way. [interruption]

ALICE WILSON: World War II mom, I mean World War I. My father was in World War I.

WILSON: . . . Yeah, World War I.

BRINSON: [to Alice Wilson} Your father was in World War I?

ALICE WILSON: Yeah, her husband.

BRINSON: Her husband, oh okay, I see.

WILSON: And this one went to Hampton. [Speaking to Alice Wilson] Did you go to Hampton?

ALICE WILSON: Uh-hmm.

WILSON: Yeah, she went to Hampton, Virginia. Hampton Institute, too. And if they were a work student it took them five years. She stayed five years, and I didn't see her for three. And I worked for nice people, and one, when she was there three years she said, "Poor Jennie would like to see her child." And after she grew up where she could go out and do work besides just, you know hard work--and the last year she couldn't work as much; and I think I sent a little money for the last year. But, she made four of it on her own. And then the white people that I worked for said for her to come to Mayfield so I could see her, I hadn't seen her in three years.

BRINSON: Hmm, that is a long time. So your husband served in World War I?

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: And did he go over seas?

WILSON: Yes.

BRINSON: He did. Where did he go? Where did they send him?

WILSON: I don't know.

BRINSON: Okay.

WILSON: I guess everywhere cause when my twin brothers, I had three brothers to go to war.

BRINSON: Okay, all in World War I?

WILSON: They were in World War II.

BRINSON: World War II, okay.

WILSON: The twins.

BRINSON: Okay, okay, thank you for adding that.

End Tape ONE SIDE TWO JENNIE WILSON

END OF INTERVIEWS