Pointing to one of the pictures, he remarked, "That was me at 37. Had it
taken for my boss where I worked. It was a post card, and then I had it
enlarged for myself. That was just before I married Helen".

Helen Comer, nee Cruitt, was a widow with four youngsters when he met
her 54 years ago. One year later they were married and had two boys,
Charles, now 47, employed as an auto repair man, and Samuel, 43, a
sorter in the Post Office, both bachelors.

"Yes sir, I sure was healthy-looking them days. Always was strong, never
took a dollars worth of medicine in fifty year or more till I had these
last sick spells. But we had good living in slave days. In one sense we
were better off then than after the war, 'cause we had plenty to eat.
Nowadays, everybody has to fen' for himself, and they'd kill a man for a
dime.

"Whip the slaves? Oh, my God! Don't mention it, don't mention it! Lots
of 'em in Old Dominion got beatings for punishment. They didn't have no
jail for slaves, but the owners used a whip and lash on 'em. I've seen
'am on a chain gang, too, up at the penitentiary. But I never got a
whipping in my life. Used to help around the grocery, and deliver
groceries. Used to go up to Jeff Davis' house every day. He was a fine
man. Always was good to me. But then I never quarreled with anybody,
always minded my own business. And I never was scared of nothing. Most
folks was superstitious, but I never believed in ghosts nor anything I
didn't see. Never wore a charm. Never took much stock in that kind of
business. The old people used to carry potatoes to keep off rheumatism.
Yes, sir. They had to steal an Irish potato, and carry it till it was
hard as a rock; then they'd say they never get rheumatism.