man. He is doing de best he can. I think he is goin' to help de
country.

N. C. District: No. 2 [320183]
Worker: Mary A. Hicks
No. Words: 660
Subject: AN EX-SLAVE STORY
Story Teller: Sarah Harris
Editor: Daisy Bailey Waitt

[HW: Good points]

[TR: Date Stamp "JUN 11 1937"]

SARAH HARRIS

Interviewed May 19, 1937.

Sarah Harris is my name. I wuz borned April 1861, on the plantation of
Master John William Walton. My father wuz name Frank Walton and my
mother wuz name Flora Walton. My brothers wuz name Lang and Johnny. My
sisters: Hannah, Mary, Ellen, Violet and Annie. My grandmother wuz name
Ellen Walton. She wuz 104 years old when she died. My mother wuz 103
years old when she died; she has been dead 3 years. She died in October,
3 years this pas' October.

I 'member seeing the Yankees. I wuz not afraid of 'em, I thought dey
were the prettiest blue mens I had ever seed. I can see how de chickens
and guineas flew and run from 'em. De Yankees killed 'em and give part
of 'em to the colored folks. Most of de white folks had run off and hid.

I can't read and write. I nebber had no chance.

De Yankees had their camps along the Fayetteville road.

Dey called us Dinah, Sam, and other names.

Dey later had de place dey call de bureau. When we left de white folks
we had nothing to eat. De niggers wait there at de bureau and they give
'em hard tack, white potatoes, and saltpeter meat. Our white folks give
us good things to eat, and I cried every day at 12 o'clock to go home.
Yes, I wanted to go back to my white folks; they were good to us. I
would say, 'papa le's go home, I want to go home. I don't like this
sumptin' to eat.' He would say, 'Don't cry, honey, le's stay here, dey
will sen' you to school.'

We had nothing to eat 'cept what de Yankees give us. But Mr. Bill
Crawford give my father and mother work. Yes, he wuz a Southern man, one
o' our white folks. Daddy wuz his butcher. My mother wuz his cook. We
were turned out when dey freed us with no homes and nuthin'. Master said
he wuz sorry he didn't give us niggers part of his lan'.

While I wuz big enough to work I worked for Porter Steadman. I got 25
cent a week and board. We had a good home then. I just shouted when I
got dat 25 cent, and I just run. I couldn't run fas' anuff to git to my
mother to give dat money to her. My father died, and my mother bought a
home. She got her first money to buy de