I left there.

"I'm old. I feels my age too. I may not look old but I feels it.

"Yes ma'am, I member when they carried us to church under bresh arbors.
Old folks had rags on their hair. Yes'm, I been here.

"My father was a Missionary Baptist preacher and he _was_ a preacher.
Didn't know 'A' from 'B' but he was a preacher. Everbody knowed Jake
Alsbrooks. He preached all over that country of North Carolina. They'd
be as many white folks as colored. They'd give him _money_ and he never
called for a collection in his life. Why one Sunday they give him
sixty-five dollars to help buy a horse.

"Fore I left the old county, I member the boss man, Henry Grady, come by
and tell my mother, 'I'm gwine to town now, have my dinner ready when I
come back--kill a chicken.' She was one of the cooks. Used to have us
chillun pick dewberries and blackberries and bring em to the house.

"Yes, I done left there thirty-six years--will be this August.

"When we was small, my daddy would make horse collars, cotton baskets
and mattresses at night and work in the field in the daytime and preach
on Sunday. He fell down in Bedie Kellog's lot throwin' up shucks in the
barn. He was standin' on the wagon and I guess he lost his balance. They
sent and got the best doctor in the country and he said he broke his
nabel string. They preached his funeral ever year for five years. Seemed
like they just couldn't give him up.

"White folks told my mother if she wouldn't marry again and mess up