The Joyner’s Mighty Oak Tree, Part I*

 

I was born during slavery times, don’t rightly know the exact date but it was somewhere ‘round 1849.  I don’t rightly know who my parents was neither.  I was always called Mary Grantham and that’s who I answer to now.   Slavery was a very hard life.  I worked from sunup to sundown in the scorching hot Johnston County North Carolina fields during the summer and picking fields upon fields of cotton in the fall.  My Lord,  slavery was a very very hard life. The slave master lived in a little community called Boon Hill.  I calls it the Boon Docks-- nothing much but slaves and cotton fields and white folks.   

All the slaves was so happy to be freed by President Abe Lincoln and the Emanipa something and Proclamation January 1, 1863.  I was Free--Free to be ME.  Most of the former slaves married and stayed in the area still farming for the former slave masta on halves (although the former slave masta cheated them by swindling, stealing and just plan meanness).  As for me, I setup a little house and took in washing and cooking for the white folks.   I was happy but a part of me was still empty.  Then I started courting this handsome colored man named Ransom Sanders.  Oh my, he was a good man—hard worker and he loved me.

We both worked hard, played hard and loved hard right there in Boon Hill.  We was happy!  We was so proud when our son was born in the fall, I believe November 1866 .  I named him Richard – some folks calls him Dick.  But he was my lil’ Richard--the splitting image of his daddy.  I guess I shoulda named him Ransom but it didn’t.  Then one day, Ransom up and says, Mary, you know that justice of the peace here’s about.  Let’s get married?  My heart felled down to the floor.  After I picked it back up and put it back in my chest,   I said yes, let’s get married!  You know Ransom took off running to find that man.  When they gits back, I was already spruced up, had my hair up and my Sunday go-to-meeting blue dress on with a little dap of vanilla behind each ear.  Oh, I was ready to be Missus Ransom Sanders.  You know what?  I will never forget that day.  We got married right on the road in front of my house December 7, 1866 by William Rains, Justice of the Peace.  My Lord, what a day!  Yes sirree, honey child, the chillums started coming!  We had a lil’ girl, named Chaney—she was born about December 1868.  Chaney was my sweet lil’ angel.  She had my looks and the spirit of Ransom.  Not long after Chaney was born, this here gov’ment white man came by said he was counting all the folks in the area ‘cause the gov’ment wanted to know how many folks was here.  Ain’t that the dumist thing you ever heard?  I’ve heard some mighty dum things since I was freed—so we just went long with this white man.  He wrote down us four, Ransom, me, Richard and Chaney. Then long came Nathan, I think sometimes in 1872, my remembers goes and comes sometimes.  Nathan was high spirited from the day he was born.  He looked like Ransom but he was very high spirited—he was a handful, let me tell you.  But he was my baby!  We was happy!

Then sometimes after Nathan started crawling real good but not yet walking, I can’t ‘xactly remember the day, I done told you my remembers comes and goes, my Ransom dies.  I don’t remember much of that day except realizing my Ransom was gone and I was left with a hole in my heart and spirit and three lil’ chillums.  I could not give up.  I would not give up.   I had made it through slavery and I would make it without my Ransom.  My Lord gave me willpower and the strength to make a good living for me and my chillums.  It was rough now, let me tell you!  But I managed to keep a roof over our heads, clothes to wear and food to eat.  Glory be to Gawd!  I was content.  But something was missing from my life.

One day I saw this good looking colored man named James Joyner at a church meeting.  I’d never seen him around these parts before.  I could feel him looking at me in church.  After the meeting, I was walking back home.  I was looking back to see, if he was looking back to see, if I was looking back to see if he was looking back at me (umm, sounds like a song I once heard).

 

 Continue to The Joyner’s Mighty Oak Tree, Part II.

 

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* Disclaimer: This information is intended for the sole purpose of genealogical research.  Any names, places and dates are taken from actual historical documents.  Use of this narrative text, in part or in whole, for profit is strictly prohibited without prior written permission of Bessie Lessie Researchers.  Contact us by email:  bessielessie@hotmail.com