Tom McGruder, one of the oldest living ex-slaves in Pulaski County, was
sitting on the porch of his son's home when we went in to see him. His
grizzled old head began to nod a "Good morning" and his brown face
became wreathed in smiles when he saw us.

He looked very small as he sat in a low straight chair by the door. His
shirt and overalls were ragged but spotlessly clean. On his feet were
heavy shoes that were kept free from dirt. His complexion was not black
as some of the other members of his race but was a light brown. There
were very few wrinkles in his face considering the fact that he was one
hundred and two years old in June. He spoke in a quiet voice though
somewhat falteringly as he suffers greatly from asthma.

"Were you born in this county, Uncle Tom?" we asked.

"No mam, Missus," he replied. "Me and my mother and sister wuz brought
from Virginia to this state by the speculators and sold here. I was only
about eighteen or twenty and I was sold for $1250. My mother was given
to one of Old Marster's married chillun.

"You see, Missus," he spoke again after a long pause. "We wuz put on the
block just like cattle and sold to one man today and another tomorrow. I
wuz sold three times after coming to this state."

Tom could tell us very little about his life on the large plantations
because his feeble old mind would only be clear at intervals. He would
begin relating some incident but would suddenly break off with, "I'd
better leave that alone 'cause I done forgot." He remembered, however,