Oral History Interview with Charles Wolford Jones Sr.

A. Taylor: Could you please tell us your full name.

C. Jones: Charles Wolford Jones, Sr.

A. Taylor: Could you spell your middle name for me please?

C. Jones: WOLFORD, it’s my mother’s maiden name. . . . She was a Wolford from Stanford.

A. Taylor: And when and where were you born in Garrard County?

C. Jones: I was born 407 South Campbell Street.

A. Taylor: May I ask your birth date.

C. Jones: 11-28-45 (November 28, 1945).

A. Taylor: Will you tell us about your family, 1:00your parents, grandparents, brothers, and sisters?

C. Jones: I have, my mother’s name was Pearl Jones, Pearl Wolford Jones and my father’s name was Rice Hyatt Jones. And uh, he was a bricklayer, and she was a homemaker. She never worked out in the public. My grandparents, my father’s father name was James Jones, and his mother was named Bettye Jones. I didn’t know him because he died before I was born. He died in ’41. And uh, I didn’t even know my grandmother on that side. She died in ’46 or ’47. On my mother’s side, I knew my grandmother, her name was Della 2:00Wolford and my grandfather on my mother’s side was named George Wolford. And uh, my grandmother on that side, she died in ’56. I was probably eleven years old and my grandfather he died in ’61, and I was sixteen and I just barely do remember the both of them, not real good. But we would go over and visit every Sunday. And uh, I have one sister, Bettye. She’s a schoolteacher in Grand Rapids, Michigan. And one brother; his name was Rice, Jr. And he died in ’90. He was 46 years old. And my sister she’s, I shouldn’t tell this, but she’s 68 years old. 3:00And uh, she has one son and I have two sons, Charles Jr. and Jason, Bryan Jason. And that’s about it. And I have a bunch of cousins ( nodding toward J. Blythe) and don’t have very many nephews and no nieces, no I’ve got one niece, I forgot about that, Della. My brother had a daughter and he had one son. And I ended up with both of ‘em at one there at one time (after his brother died). But they are now on their own. Della ‘s 34, yeah 34 and Rice. . . . he’s 30, 4:00naw, wait a minute, naw, he’s 31 and he lives with my sister in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I did have him for about I think ten years, I raised him for about ten years, and then my sister took over after that. And that’s about the long and short of my kin people that’s close. Now, what else do you need to know?

S. Roberts: You said that you were born just right down the street. Could you tell us about your childhood?

C. Jones: Up the street. Well, it was, everybody stayed in their own neighborhood. And we played baseball out in the road and played basketball in my backyard. And we had some good times back in them days, marbles, 5:00between the marble, baseball, and the basketball, we had a wonderful time. We rode bicycles, but most time we, naw, my wife, Sula she lived in Duncantown, and I lived out here (Middlesboro), the only time we went to Duncantown was when we went to school. Everybody stayed in they own neighborhood. The other end of town, the guys stayed over there, and we stayed out here. There was mostly about fifteen guys out here on this one end of town and of course, there was about ten girls. And that was about it. And the girls stayed in the house and the guys stayed outdoors playing ball . And we just all had a good time and really, we still stay in touch even now. But most of the fellows who grew up with us 6:00out here they all passed away. And my class, I think there was eleven or thirteen of us, I don’t think it’s but only five living out of the thirteen guys. But all of ‘em was men and we only had one girl, a woman, a girl named Sandra Boatright. She was the only girl in the class. Of course, we was next to the last class graduating out of the all black school up there at Mason. And uh, that was just about the long and short of the whole thing. We all had fun.

S. Roberts: And what year did you graduate?

C. Jones: 1963. Uh, I had all the opportunities to go to college but didn’t go (he laughs). 7:00My brother and sister, they were both schoolteachers and I didn’t think it was too much of a load for my dad to send me, too. He’d have three in college at the same time and back in that day, my father made good money, but, uh, my sister and my brother, I thought it was just enough having them in college and for me to not try to go. But he didn’t make but like $4.30 an hour but of course school wasn’t that expensive back in them days... And now they’ve got scholarships, but they didn’t have scholarships back in those days.

S. Roberts: And where did your sister go (to college)?

C. Jones: Kentucky State. And my brother finished there, both of ‘em finished there. My brother, my sister finished in ’65 (1965) and my brother finished in ’66. 8:00And uh, he went, my sister went to Grand Rapids teaching, and she just quit teaching a couple of years ago. She taught until she was 65 and I don’t know why. And my brother, he passed away, but he didn’t teach, he hadn’t taught for . . . . he taught ‘til ’72 he went to work for a factory, he was a night-time supervisor for a plastics factory in Kankakee, Illinois and he had a stroke and passed away in April 1990. But just about everybody in my family went to college. My dad finished college at Hampton Institute, well, Hampton University now, in Hampton, Virginia in 1939. 9:00Of course, my mother she didn’t go to college, she just made it through high school and everything. But back in them days it was hard making it to college. You had to have some backbone to go to college and everything.

J. Blythe: What did your father study at Hampton?

C. Jones: Believe it or not, well he took brick masonry, and he took teaching. And he only taught one year. He taught one year at Richmond Madison up there for Cabal Merritt’s daddy.

J. Blythe: Really? I didn’t know that.

C. Jones: He taught one year, and he made $1600 teaching in 1940. And uh, well they was needing people to finish concrete and do masonry work for the war effort, and he went to work up there at Bluegrass Ordinance, Avon, and down 10:00to Indiana on that powder plant. He worked on them government jobs and he quit teaching because they was only paying like $1600 a year and he was making a $.25 an hour working on them government jobs. And he never did teach no more. All he done was to lay brick after that. And then I started laying brick (Lord, I wish I hadn’t). I started laying brick myself in 1960, but I was 15 when I started laying brick. But I started on them union jobs in 1965,’64 and worked up ‘til two years ago. And that’s about it.

S. Roberts: So, did your dad build the house where you were born?

C. Jones: Um hum. And we built this one here.

Researchers:Beautiful home.

C. Jones: Yeah, me and him just 11:00about done everything. This house is a solid masonry house. It doesn’t have any studs in it, it’s all block and brick, like the dormitories at the college. . . I worked on a bunch of dormitories up there at Eastern, no at Berea. .

J. Blythe: And Eastern, too!

C. Jones: Yeah, I fell off of that one at Eastern.

J. Blythe: You worked on the one at Telford . . .because I lived in that dorm.

C. Jones: Yeah, that’s the one I fell off from . . .and J. Blythe: And then lived to walk away. . .

C. Jones: Yeah, I fell five stories and fifty-six feet, tore all my knees up and laid in bed for two months. Back in them days they didn’t let you get up. . . .they kept you in bed and everything. I was a young man, I was 22 then, and if it happened now, it would be over with (he laughs). That was . . .

J. Blythe: You also did some work 12:00at Berea College.

C. Jones: Yeah, the two dormitories, well the two dormitories. ., I don’t even know the name of that dormitory over there.

J. Blythe: I remember one.

C. Jones: Yeah, one is down there when you come in town, turn left, go over the hill there. . .it was a boy’s dormitory I believe.

J. Blythe: Was it Danforth?

C. Jones: It was built in ’71 I know that.

J. Blythe: I think it was Danforth and the other one was Kettering. . .

C. Jones: Yeah, they both were built at the same time, yeah, ‘cause I was foreman on Danforth. I was the one that run the brick work on that job. That’s what I mainly done was run jobs. I did that for about eleven years for another man, a guy named Austin Harvey; he was a good fellow. But I thought I could make more money for myself, but I made a mistake, I should have stayed with him. It takes money to make money. 13:00If you ain’t got money, you can’t make money ‘cause I couldn’t bid them big jobs , ‘cause I didn’t have the money. Because you had to put up a big bond and everything, just wasn’t no way that I could get that kind of money.. . . Now you can borrow money, but you couldn’t borrow no money back in them days. But me and my daddy, we done pretty good. We bricked just about all houses in Garrard County from ‘76 to probably ‘83. And then he took sick on me, well daddy was older, a whole lot older than me. When I was 27, daddy was 62, so you can read between the lines. 14:00Because he retired in, I think it was ’74, and that’s when, well I stayed over in Lexington working on them union jobs up until ’76 and that’s when I quit. He wanted me to go in business with him and that’s when we went in business together in ’76.

J. Blythe: Do you remember anything about your grandmother Bettye? Anything your father talked about?

C. Jones: No, daddy never did talk much about his mother and father. And I never asked him because it might have been a sore subject in his life. I don’t know because I never asked him because I never did rub daddy wrong. We worked every day together, and he never did even bring up the subject of his parents 15:00so . . I know they said, the only thing I heard him say one time that his father got shot in his right side and he was a bricklayer and he switched over to laying with his left hand and that’s all he ever said. And he didn’t say nothing else. I never did ask no questions. You know back in them days, if they didn’t say anything about it, then you didn’t ask. You always gave ‘em respect if they didn’t want to talk about it, I just let it alone. Of course, my kids, they ask me anything, you know.

S. Roberts: You mentioned that you went to a segregated school. Could you tell me a little bit about it?

C. Jones: It was a small school, had first and second 16:00grades was together; third and fourth grades was together. One teacher taught both grades. Uh, when you went to high school, ninth and tenth grades was together. And the one that really caught it was the sixth, seventh, and eighth grades, ne classroom and one teacher taught three classes and most of the kids learned something out of the deal. They learned reading and writing and that’s, a lot of kids now-a-days can barely read and write. Now you don’t see as much of it around here as much as you see it in the city, but my sister in Grand Rapids, the kids in the larger cities can’t read and write their names. We had a lot of kids over there at Mason who went to college. Just about out of every class 17:00at least two or three kids would go to college and graduate and turned out to be teachers. We didn’t turn out nobody that was really, really bad. I don’t know of anybody that went to school up there at Mason who even went to jail or prison. That’s the truth. I think one, . . .James Smith , he got caught in Cincinnati doing something and he went to jail. But you take out of that whole class, boys, and girls, either one, I don’t believe I know anybody that did anything bad who went to jail for anything serious. It’s not like it is now because everybody strived to do the best that they could do when they came along; to make the most money, see who could build the biggest house (he laughs). Then when I came along, 18:00you had , I worked in Lexington, and most all those of the brick layers in Lexington, that’s what they strived to do, they saw who could build the biggest houses and put the most money in ‘em. That’s the honest truth and I can’t understand why the younger guys won’t, you can’t get nobody to take up my trade laying brick anymore. You can’t get nobody that I know of, it’s a few guys, no, no black guys have ever asked me to teach them how to lay bricks. I taught two white guys to lay brick since I was out there, but none of the black guys ever asked me. They don’t want to learn how. . ., well they say it’s too hard, which it is hard work, but you end up broke down when you get my age. I’ve got arthritis in both hands 19:00and shoulder. But uh, it was good money at the time, and it was really the only thing you could do. At one time, really the early, middle sixties, I made more money than schoolteachers and that’s the truth. Because Mrs. Merritt (former principal at Mason School) made, I remember one year, when they used to post in the paper what everybody made, I made more money than Mrs. Merritt. I remember one year; she made $6900 in 1966-67 and I made $12,000 laying brick; that was a big difference. And back in them days that was quite a bit of money. Minimum wage was just about $1 an hour, that’s what everybody made; factories paid about $1, $1.25 an hour; you couldn’t make about $7 or $8000, 20:00and you were really going hard. I was working over there in Lexington making $5.20 an hour, but it came back to haunt me now because my hands are gone, and everything’s gone now. Now what else do you need to know, Janice (J. Blythe)?

J. Blythe: Well, can you remember some of the teachers at Mason?

C. Jones: My favorite teacher was Mr. Wainwright. He was the coach; basketball coach and he was history and political science teacher. I learned a whole lot from him. One thing about him, he, back in the day, he taught civics, what we called civics, and he taught us all to know the Constitution, 21:00where a person stands under the law. And now-a-days, most kids don’t know what the Bill of Rights are. They don’t know what their rights are. If something happens to you and the police comes after you, they don’t know you’ve got to have a warrant in your hand. And he taught us all that. And when we came along in the ‘60s it was , we got treated pretty bad in them days and everything. But it’s not as bad now, but there’s still a few little tricks that the law uses to get young black boys; they love to keep the young black boys in jail. But he (Wainwright) was my favorite teacher. And Mrs. Green, she was English teacher, and uh, of course 22:00the other teachers, Mrs. Covington, and the other teachers, well, I can’t say too much about ‘em because when I started school, I was five, I had a late birthday and started at five. . . .and then if you turned six they let you go on. And I graduated when I was 17. End of part 1 of the interview with Mr. Charles Jones.

Part 2 of the interview with Mr. Charles Jones J. Blythe: Now Mr. Jones you were talking a little bit about teachers and so forth at the school (Mason), Mrs. Sarah Dabney, and so forth. Do you remember any others?

C. Jones: No, that’s about all that was there when I went to school because most of the teachers stayed. . .yeah, the whole time I was there, of course, Mrs. Covington was there until I graduated. And of course, 23:00Mr. Wainwright he come there, I think I went to the ninth grade. And there was Mr. Palmer. . .he’s still living; he’s about 90 years old. He lives in Grand Rapids, Michigan. He lives right around from my sister. And he left there in ’59 and went to Grand Rapids, Michigan to teach. And most of the people, Mrs. Green, and all of ‘em, they were there from the beginning that I can remember.

J. Blythe: . . .stayed many years.

J. Blythe: (some background noise and the tape is paused for a few seconds). . . . You talked about basketball . . .I 24:00wanted to ask you Charles about your basketball days at Mason and particularly about the last game. Would you tell us about your talents and so forth about basketball?

C. Jones: (he chuckles) Everybody said I was better than I thought I was, I’m going to be truthful about it. (“you were good!”---J. Blythe) I was 5’11” and could dunk a basketball and that was unheard of back in them days. I had six scholarships in basketball, but I was scared to leave home.

J. Blythe: Really?. . .Where did you get the scholarships?

C. Jones: Well, Berea, ( really? --J. Blythe), Kentucky State, one was at Eastern, Stouts College in Wisconsin, and some place I can’t remember all the places. . ., but Berea was really interested in me, 25:00but I was scared to leave home. I wasn’t but about 17, and I ain’t gonna lie about it, I was a Mama’s boy. My mother she thought the world of me, and I thought the world of her, and we fell out a little bit after that. But. . .I had plenty of opportunities to play basketball and sports and everything, but I always wanted to be a bricklayer for some reason, I don’t know.

J. Blythe: . . .well you father, your grandfather were so that makes sense. . .But I know the last year at the Mason School in 1964, there were always tournaments in basketball. Can you remember some of the events that kind of led up to the great finale?

C. Jones: Are you talking about the Christmas Tournament?

J. Blythe: Yes!! The Christmas Tournament, that’s what I want to hear about?

C. Jones: (he laughs). 26:00. . .the Christmas Tournament. We never had the opportunity to play in the Christmas Tournament. It was always Buckeye, Camp Dick, and Lancaster High and us. And we never got an opportunity to play in the Christmas Tournament until my senior year. And uh, Buckeye had, supposed to have had, the best team in the county. And they finally let us play in the Christmas Tournament. And we beat every team in the county that year, to tell you the truth, pretty bad! And uh, the only way we got in the tournament, I’m gonna tell this story, the only reason we played Buckeye November 28th , 1962, it was my birthday, and we lost the game. I’ll tell this, but it’s against the rules, because. . . but Wainwright said, he told 27:00us ‘is that the only way y’all will get to play in the Christmas Tournament is y’all lose this game’, and we lost it. And we got to play in the Christmas Tournament, and we won it, by beating Buckeye, Lancaster High, and Paint Lick, three teams to win it, in three nights, back-to-back nights, and we never did play that many games in back-to-back nights. I laugh about it, I scored 19 points, well 24 points in the whole game. Back in them days, they didn’t score a lot of points, they froze the ball, kept the ball away.

J. Blythe: What position did you play?

C. Jones: I played all three of ‘em, guard, forward, and center. You remember (pointing to J. Blythe), I jumped center.

J. Blythe: When you crossed the mid-court (Yeah—C. Jones), in the last game, and. . .

C. Jones: I can’t remember . . .

J. Blythe: and hit the shot from mid-court that went in 28:00(yeah, the shot went in---C. Jones), that won the game, what position were you playing?

C. Jones: Guard (he laughs). . ., well see, couldn’t no one bring the ball up court but me. I could dribble, I had. . do the whole thing. A whole lot of colleges wanted me to play because I could play point guard. Really and truly, if I come along now, shoot, I could have done well at one of them colleges.

J. Blythe: I remember I did not have a voice for about a week after the game (he laughs) because we screamed so loudly.

C. Jones: Yes, you and Saundra? I forgot about that!

J. Blythe: Yes, that was the most beautiful shot I’ve ever seen in my life. He just stepped across mid-court, put it in the air, nothing but net! Won the game, won the tournament! It was great! That was the last great 29:00era of Mason School, with basketball and so forth. So we had a big victory!

C. Jones: (He chuckles) Yeah, we had a big victory. . .They did away with the school. They tried to, well they said, ‘why don’t you fail, flunk the last year so that you can play up at Garrard County. I told them ‘No sir’.

J. Blythe: Thanks for sharing that story, that was good.

C. Jones: Is that about it?

J. Blythe: Can we talk with you a little bit about church involvement and some of the things you have done in the community and what you are currently doing?

C. Jones: Not much, I. . .one of the last thing that I done at the church I put on that little back down on the church, First Baptist, in uh, I think ’87 (he is referring to an addition being added at the church during renovation). Uh, 30:00I don’t do much.. .

J. Blythe: You do some work with Habitat. . .

C. Jones: Yes, I donated some time to, I donated three foundations to Habitat, but here lately I haven’t done much lately (he laughs heartedly), you know when you get old, you can’t give away your energy. I was feeling pretty good then, but I don’t . . .well, I uh, about the only thing I am thinking about doing is, well, I don’t know, I’d better leave that alone. . .

J. Blythe: Well Allyse might have some more questions to pursue along that line.

A. Taylor: Could you tell us about your involvement in church while you were growing up?

C. Jones: Growing up, I went to church every Sunday. 31:00But I’m ashamed to say, I don’t go as often as I used to go.

A. Taylor: And was that First Baptist Church?

C. Jones: First Baptist. I went over here and in Stanford both.

J. Blythe: Who were some of the people that you remember at First Baptist here in Lancaster?

C. Jones: Well I can remember just about all the pastors from Rev. Childs to Rev. Redd, he married Sula Mae and me, O’Banner, Rev. O’Banner, him not as well as I did the rest of ‘em because I was 8, 9, or 10 and busy playing baseball out in the street. The only thing we did was went to Sunday School. I’m going to tell you the truth about it. 32:00I would sit up a lot of the time and go to sleep. I’m not going to lie. I would sit up under Daddy and go to sleep. No need to tell a story about it (he laughs). I don’t remember, of course, I remember your grandmother singing in the choir (referring to J. Blythe’s grandmother). I ain’t gonna talk about that (he laughs).

A. Taylor: So, you didn’t sing in the choir?

C. Jones: I can’t sing. My wife’s the organist and she tells me point blank ‘you can’t sing’. She let me in the choir, and I sat way in the back for about three or four years, and she kept on telling me ‘Charles, you can’t sing’. And I said, ‘ are you sure?’ I think I sound good. And she said ‘Charles, you can’t sing.’ One day 33:00they took a tape and taped me, and I listened and said ‘Charles, you sure can’t sing!’ (he chuckles).

A. Taylor: And what did your dad do in church?

C. Jones: He was the, for about ten or twelve or fourteen years, he was a trustee and that was about it. Daddy never did want to be no deacon or nothing. He said the type of work he done out there on them construction jobs wasn’t “deacon” stuff. Talk’s pretty rough, (he laughs), Sula is looking at me.

A. Taylor: Do you remember any church events that took place?

C. Jones: Well, nothing but the rallies 34:00were big back in my days, there were rallies just about every Sunday somewhere in the county. And the young men, if you had some kind of ride, would follow every rally. I was probably 19, and I had a new car at 19. I hit every rally in the country, down here at Boones Creek, Buckeye, Paint Lick, Black Bridge (this church location is in Jessamine County); we’d go everywhere to rallies. We’s looking for the girls; I’ll tell you the truth about it.

A. Taylor: What would take place at the rallies?

C. Jones: Well, they’d eat, sing, uh, most of the young guys they would be trying to court the girls, I ain’t gonna lie. That was the bottom line, that’s what it was all about. 35:00That was the reason I went, you might as well tell it like it is, no need to tell a story. But we uh, every, there wouldn’t be no few people there, there would be a couple of hundred people every Sunday, and every church had a rally, and we just had a good time. We’d also go in church, but it was mainly for the eating and the socializing, really that was what it was.

A. Taylor: But they did have service?

C. Jones: Oh yes, Oh Lord, they had service. You’d hear the preaching outside; most of the time there wasn’t enough room inside, people would be standing outside, 36:00and the preachers would be . .their voice would carry enough, didn’t have no microphone. You could hear the whole thing outside in the yard. You could hear the singing, and I ain’t supposed to say this, but someone would be “shouting.” J. Blythe: You can talk about our tradition (“shouting”). Shouting is a tradition in the black church.

C. Jones: You could talk about it; everybody just about would shout on that Sunday. They would tear that aisle down.

A. Taylor: For somebody who doesn’t know about shouting, how would you describe it?

C. Jones: Well, you’ve seen on some of the movies, how them guys, what’s the name of some of them movies, they would go down the aisles shouting and everything. 37:00But them people (at the rallies), they were in the spirit, them people were not putting on, it was the real thing because they was brought out of hardships, you name it, most of them people had it done to them. And that’s the reason they were giving such praise to the Lord! People don’t know what hard times are now. In my days and time, it was hard times. It was really rough. . . .I would give anything for you young people to come along just stay in ‘60s, the late ‘50s and ‘60s, I’d say one day. And 38:00uh, you wouldn’t believe what your fore-parents put up with. And you wonder what your parents sing and shout. I imagine your parents done told you (referring to A. Taylor) . . .

A. Taylor: Yes sir.

C. Jones: (he laughs) Ain’t no way.. . .

A. Taylor: I want to go back to the rallies? Do you remember family names mostly at the rallies?

C. Jones: I, well mostly, most all the people, at First Baptist—Mr. Crother Anderson, Mr. Clarence Owens. Uh, just about 39:00all the people was at most of them rallies and the churches they all passed away. Really and truly, don’t nobody go to rallies anymore. Most all of the guys, Marvin Dismeaux, Jim Overstreet, he’s passed away, and Marvin’s dead, a guy named, Mickie, Michael Allen. .

J. Blythe: Was he Miss Sophie’s grandson?

C. Jones: Grandson, right. Yeah, I think, somebody said he even passed away; a guy name Cecil Wearren, who stayed over there with Mrs. Stella Wearren, he passed away, he was in Detroit; he passed away. 40:00Just about all of the guys came along, they ain’t no more. And really and truly you don’t think about ‘em until someone comes along and asks about them. And really and truly most of the people that I knew at the rallies was mostly the young guys. We went together and stayed together. And all the girls, Sula Mae, Jane Dunn, and all of them, my sister, she stayed in church, still in church.

J. Blythe: Would you tell us the names of some of the people who lived on this street?

C. Jones: Mr. Carl Boatright, Miss Bessie Gwyn, Mrs. Beatrice Bogle, Mrs. Stella Wearren, 41:00the Clarks lived here. And Paul Rigsby, . . . well this neighborhood was mixed, part black and part white, Buddy Warren, Lorraine and W.C., and Mr. Bill Warren lived on the corner down there, the stockyard was right up the street, and that’s about all, oh, I forgot, the Brickeys lived around the corner there. There wasn’t no projects [reference to low-income housing]. There was just a big field where a guy kept cows there.

J. Blythe: And there was a business further down.

C. Jones: Yeah, Mr. Charlie 42:00Owens owned a slaughterhouse. He always worked us boys; we’d kill cows, hogs in the winter, and cows in the summer. He worked all us boys, didn’t pay us much though, he’d give us 15 or 20 cents, that was a shame! (he laughs). But we loved it, we liked being around grown men, we weren’t but like 12, 13, 14, 15 years old and we liked.. . he’d let us go down there and kill hogs, and we’d make maybe about $2 or $3 a day. And I don’t think many more businesses. . .what was the name of the store over in Duncantown (question directed to J. Blythe)? 43:00J. Blythe: Mr. Herbert Burdette?

C. Jones: Yeah, Mr. Herbert Burdette and Mrs. B. had the undertaking business, and there wasn’t too many black businesses around here in town. Of course, Daddy didn’t have no business; he quit laying brick here in town and he went to Lexington and worked over there from ’52 to ’74, and then we came back and worked here for a little while but not much.

J. Blythe: remember you Dad saying, my Uncle Rice said that he had laid brick at Berea. Do you remember the name of the buildings?

C. Jones: He worked on the same buildings I did; me and Daddy worked for the same company.

J. Blythe: What was the name of the company he worked for?

C. Jones: A guy named Austin Harp. 44:00. . he was one of the biggest contractors in Lexington; he did V.A. Hospital, them tall dormitories at UK, the low dorms, he was the biggest contractor in Lexington around. He died probably 15 years ago.

J. Blythe: I remember Uncle Rice saying that he had worked on the Alumni Building (at Berea). . .

C. Jones: Yeah, he worked really on more buildings than I did. Truly, in ’71 I worked up there, but Daddy started work up there during the ‘50s. I never did work up there other than in ’71. And Daddy worked all over; wherever Harp had a job, he went there. He even went to Cincinnati. You name it, he went there.

J. Blythe: When did he go to Hampton Institute/University?

C. Jones: He started there, well he went there 45:00in I’m thinking, in ’31 or ‘32, but didn’t graduate until ’39. Because that was a working college. You had to work like two years or three years before you could even start your studies. It was like, you work so many years, two or three years, then you had four years of going to school. They had to work, it’s like up at Berea, you had to work, but up there at Hampton, you had to put your work in first and then you got to go to college. And I’m going to tell you what, that makes it mean on somebody. He worked and then he also had outside 46:00jobs and what he was doing , he talked about making a dollar to three dollars a day. ‘Course, that was the going dollar in them days in ’29 to , I’m thinking ’40 or ’41, that’s all anybody made was a dollar a day. Course I remember in my day and time, her grandfather (referring to J. Blythe) worked for Teater Brothers, and they only paid four dollars a day. Mr. Web (J. Blythe’s maternal grandfather) worked for them for four and a half dollars a day and that ain’t no lie, because he quit them and went to work for the county. And I don’t blame him, I would have quit and done the same thing myself. There wasn’t no money to be made here Lancaster; you had to go to Lexington or someplace else, you couldn’t make nothing here.

S. Roberts: Do you recall hearing anything else about the depression? 47:00C. Jones: Well, everything was cheap; if you didn’t grow it, you didn’t eat it, really and truly. I can remember when uh, when the A & P Store just barely did start opening in the ‘40s because everybody raised their own food. ‘Cause Daddy killed his own meat, put it up, he killed six hogs every year, two calves, and put it up and we’d eat on all that for the year, and then next year it would be the same. And Mama would can all the beans and corn and whatever. And stores didn’t get nothing. . . .But they said that it was really bad during the Depression, back in ’29. 48:00They said people jumped out of buildings, killed themselves. I know this building, my granddaddy on my mother’s side, he lost $700 when the bank went bankrupt and closed on him. He had put his money in the bank from his tobacco crop money and he lost all $700 of his tobacco crop. . . . … . and they said it was really tough. I don’t really know. I ain’t really that old to remember that. 49:00In ’29, I’d have to be close. . . Daddy used to talk about it all the time. He always told me, ‘Don’t trust the banks. He’d say, ‘if you think things are getting bad, people start talking about things getting bad, put your money in a sock. . . and that’s the only thing he said about the Depression because he said that ‘it’s a shame that a man work all his life and lose it at the snap of your finger.’ A. Taylor: Were any of your family members involved 50:00in the military?

C. Jones: No. None of us.

A. Taylor: Can you tell us about some of the work that your family members did in Garrard County or any other place? I know you’ve talked a little about it.

C. Jones: Uh, no, most of Dad’s work and everything was never in Garrard County, mostly in Lexington. He worked mostly in Lexington and same for me. Most of our work was out of the county, except for that little stretch we did a little bit of work, but nothing really like courthouse or anything like that. We bricked a few houses. We stayed mainly at University of Kentucky and colleges. 51:00He worked some for Keeneland up in the ’90. But that’s the last work . . .But I don’t know much about it,. . .from about ’65 to ’74. We worked for the same man, I worked for about nine years, but we never worked together on a job. And that me have to drive and him drive.

J. Blythe: Did you ever work with the Hayden Brothers in Nicholasville?

C. Jones: Yes, John and Mexico Hayden; I worked with them more than I did with Daddy.

J. Blythe: So, John and Mexico?

C. Jones: Yes, I worked with both of them. 52:00I started out with John and Mexico over there, I’m thinking, on the bus station that used to be on Limestone. . .they always stayed, well I was always on the same job with them, but not Daddy. I never did understand that. And they would always send him way, way, and I would be closer, and I’d always drive. Like I said, but I don’t know, shame to say other than from ’76 to I guess ’84 or ’85, was the only time we worked together, but we worked together every day after that. 53:00A. Taylor: Did your family own any property?

C. Jones: Just up the road and down here. Uh, I still own Daddy’s house up there. . . . two houses up and I just moved two houses down. I was born in the house; we didn’t have a hospital when I was born. I was born at the house; Dr. Johnson delivered me.

J. Blythe: Do you know his first name?

C. Jones: William.

J. Blythe: He delivered me, all of us. I never remembered his first name.

C. Jones: Yeah, that’s his name. Dr. Johnson delivered 54:00. . .not only the black kids, but the white kids too. He delivered all Roy Grimes and all the kids on this street, he delivered them.

J. Blythe: Now his home place is on this street?

C. Jones: Yeah, straight up the street.

J. Blythe: At 307 (South Campbell St.)?

C. Jones: Um hum.

J. Blythe: Do you remember his wife or any of the family?

C. Jones: Yeah, what was her name, Cora, Miss Cora Johnson. . . .and her daughter, I think is still living. And she had a son. . .he’s the same age I am.

J. Blythe: Was it Billie?

C. Jones: She lived in Louisville. . .She had a son named?. . .

J. Blythe: Was it Daniel/Danny?

C. Jones: That don’t sound right. 55:00. .she never let him get dirty. We’d go up there and rub him in dirt. . .We were bad kids back in them days.. .she would never let him play marbles with us. .. she’d keep him slicked up. . .and we’d go up there and wrestle with him and rub him in dirt (he laughs).

J. Blythe: Do you know who owns the property now?

C. Jones: No, someone just moved in her e and bought it, but I don’t know. . . . .but they are not from around here. . . .

J. Blythe: Dr. Johnson was around for a long time. 56:00C. Jones: Yes, he was. He died in the ‘60s, I’m thinking ’65 or ’66 somewhere around in there. And he was delivering babies right up to his death. He had a big thing up there; he had a pill for everything up in there. How he knew which pill to get, I do not know.. . .but he never sent nobody to the drugstore. He had all the pills up there. I remember one time ‘he told me to close my mouth’, I had a sore throat. And he told me to close my mouth, and I’d have my tonsils ‘til I die. I was riding the bike when it was cold. And he told me to close my mouth and tie a rag around my mouth to keep out the cold air. And he went to that cabinet 57:00and gave me two pills and said, ‘take these pills’, and my tonsils went down, and I never did have any more problems. I was about twelve years old. But he was a good doctor though. They claimed he wasn’t nothing but a baby doctor, but I think he was. . .

J. Blythe: But he practiced on a lot of different people with a lot of different problems, as I have heard stories.

C. Jones: Yeah.

J. Blythe: What are some of the important values and beliefs that your family promoted when you were growing up?

C. Jones: Get an education and go to college. That was the biggest thing. Mama wanted to make sure everybody to finish college and she wanted to make sure Bettye Jean (his sister) made; she 58:00wanted her to be a teacher or something, she didn’t want her in any cook kitchen. Of course, back in them days, that (cook kitchen) was about all for black women; there wasn’t any factories or anything. I can remember, when I come along, there wasn’t no factories. I remember when Cowden and Casket Factories came along and hired the first blacks.

J. Blythe: Who were some of the first people hired at Cowden and the Casket Factories?

C. Jones: It was Sula Mae and Elizabeth Hocker and who else? And Dorothy Green (hired at Cowden Factory). And the only one hired out at Casket, the first one hired out at Casket was Frank Anderson. 59:00. . .There wasn’t no factories. Well, you couldn’t even go to, they didn’t start hiring at IBM was 1965, and the first black to get hired over there at IBM was Freddie Brown over there at Harrodsburg. And he begged me to go, and I wouldn’t go. Never will forget that. Wish I’d went now.

J. Blythe: Do you recall some of the communities outside Lancaster, or any people who might have been in or around Point Leavell, Hackley, or Lowell? Remember any of those names?

C. Jones: Bill Doty and Jack Doty was from out there at Hackley. I didn’t know too many people from Lowell, though. 60:00Jackie and Bevel Ann out there at Hackley. . . .And the Gillespies out there at Lowell. . .I forgot about them. . . Edgar Gillespie. . .

J. Blythe: Have you ever heard of the names Spaineytown or Johns Bottom?

C. Jones: Naw, I never heard of them. . . .are they in Garrard County?. . . .

J. Blythe: In some of the library research. . . .Have you heard of the Coomer School?

C. Jones: Is that out to Davistown. . . White Oak 61:00or possibly Davistown. . . I’m thinking more of White Oak. . .because see the Coomers and Segars was from down there in White Oak. I’m thinking, Daddy, the Whites, the reason why they called it White Oak, it was Daddy’s mother, Bettye, was from down there in White Oak.

J. Blythe: Your grandmother Bettye?

C. Jones: Yes, that was her folks down there in White Oak; that’s why they call it White Oak, the Whites. They owned all that white oak area from one end to the other. They owned a lot down there.

J. Blythe: Do you know about how many acres?

C. Jones: No telling; It was a lot, I’d say they owned about three or four-hundred acres back then but done sold it all off now. Ain’t nobody owns nothing 62:00down there now. . . . . . .but I can’t remember much now.

J. Blythe: We’ve talked a little bit about some of the businesses around. I’m just going to mention a few, and you can tell me what you know about them, We had Mr. Charles Owens slaughter house, William H. Johnson Funeral Home, Miss B’s her funeral home; there was a restaurant. . .

C. Jones: A restaurant. I’m trying to remember, there used to be an old rec hall, 63:00the Bufords ran the restaurant and Mr. Walter Williams run another small restaurant (in Duncantown). And then there was a lot on the Shoot. . ., oh, I’m sorry, North Campbell. . . Hubert Snodgrass owned a restaurant; Thelma Palmer owned a restaurant, Bobby Warren owned a poolroom; Henry Warren owned a restaurant up there in . . , you know (looking at J. Blythe), and . . .

J. Blythe: And there was a grocery store?

C. Jones: Oh yeah, Overstreet. . .. . Richard Overstreet. 64:00Sylvester Wearren had a car wash up there on the corner of that alley there. And Richard Overstreet had a car wash on that corner and a used car business on that corner where Habitat is now. . . .Everybody had some kind of little old business working back in them days. . .Everybody had a hustle, and it was a hustle in them days; everybody had some kind of a little old business.

J. Blythe: I know that you have officially retired.. . .do you have particular hobbies or interests that you enjoy doing?

C. Jones: Gardening. 65:00. . .the only thing I got out of the garden this year was a few tomatoes. Somebody beat me to the beans. I had eight rows of beans and only got a two-and-a-half-gallon bucket of beans. . .When I go to sleep at night, they pick ‘em. I love my gardening! I’m getting ready to work on my flower bed. Sula Mae said you all was coming, that’s why I gave up my flower bed today, so I’ll get ready to work on my flower bed now.

J. Blythe: Well. . .what kind of flowers do you have. . . . ?

C. Jones: Just . .iris. . .. .they are really pretty in the spring, they 66:00die out in the summer. . . .but the heat overtook me when I got hot, but I think I can do a little bit now.

J. Blythe: Based on your life experiences, what advice would you give to younger generations and to future generations?

C. Jones: Go to school and get the most education that you can get and get all of it. And get you an easy job so you don’t have to work too hard (he chuckles). Don’t let anybody fool you, hard work will kill you.. 67:00. . .If I know what I know now. . . .I wouldn’t have been no bricklayer; I’d been something else.

J. Blythe: Anything else you want to share with us about anything in Garrard County?

C. Jones: No, I’ve just had a good life; that’s all I can say.

S. Roberts: Well Mr. Jones, we want to thank you for your time and willingness to give us this interview. It will really help us with our project.

C. Jones: All right, I hope you all get a good grade out of this or whatever. How are y’all going to do this?. . .