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Transcript on deposit at The Southern Historical Collection, The Louis Round Wilson Library
Citation of this interview should be as follows:
“Interview C-0016, in
the Southern Oral History Program Collection #4007,
Southern Historical
Collection, The Wilson Library,
University of North Carolina at Chapel
Hill”
This is the second part of an extensive two-part interview with Viola Turner, former treasurer of North Carolina Mutual in Durham and first woman on its executive board. Turner continues her vividly detailed discussion of early twentieth-century race relations from the first interview, beginning with several anecdotes about her experiences with racial discrimination while traveling by train in both the North and the South. She describes an itinerant musician she encountered in a Jim Crow train car while en route to Memphis, an experience she uses as a segue for discussing the Mississippi Blues as an especially unique form of regional African American popular culture. Although Turner argues that the Mississippi Blues was not pervasive in Durham (where she had settled in 1924), she explains that the city did have a thriving African American culture. After describing elaborate social gatherings for dancing and music within the African American community (particularly for the black middle class), Turner describes how community leaders worked to bring in prominent African American performers. According to Turner, the intricate social network of African Americans in Durham was integral in supporting African American professionals who traveled through the South. Turner also devotes considerable attention to describing the role of African American community leaders, including Dr. James E. Shepard of North Carolina Central University and C. C. Spaulding of North Carolina Mutual. As an employee of North Carolina Mutual, Turner had a unique relationship with Spaulding. She describes him as a paternal figure (she and other employees called him "Poppa") and offers numerous anecdotes about how he looked out for his employees. She recounts, for instance, how Spaulding ensured that his employees had the opportunity to vote by personally accompanying them through the registration process. Turner provides insight into the inner operations of North Carolina Mutual as a landmark African American business in Durham, and stresses its central role within the community. In addition, she discusses her perception of nascent civil rights efforts, such as the formation of the Durham Committee on Negro Affairs; the effort of the NAACP on behalf of Thomas Hocutt to integrate the law school of the University of North Carolina; and lingering racial tensions in Durham. Finally, Turner offers commentary on gender dynamics, sharing her thoughts on instances of sex discrimination at North Carolina Mutual, expectations of single women workers within the community, and relationships: she describes her two short-term marriages in the 1920s, and concludes the interview with a lengthy discussion of her third husband and his support of her work and in the home.
In this second part of an extensive two-part interview series, Viola Turner discusses race relations in Durham and her experiences working for North Carolina Mutual. Turner offers vivid and detailed anecdotes that reveal the intricate social and professional network of Durham, primarily in the 1920s and 1930s.
[START OF TAPE 1, SIDE A]
[begins mid-sentence] . . .because they could treat me and
You ran into all sorts of things. I've had a few unpleasant experiences, too.
In connection with traveling?
Yes. Well, two that stand out in my mind at this moment. The first time I
went to Chicago, I had gotten accommodations from here with no real
problem. By this time, it wasn't any great problem to get
accommodations. I don't think you could always walk right up to the
ticket window and get them, depending on who's waiting on you and that
sort of thing. But if you called, and you knew somebody back there, as I
did now: I knew Mr. Bobbitt real well, earth are you doing here?" It
was one of those sort of [expression], and then followed quickly with,
"What on earth will I be able to do with you?"
Well, I am floored. Because I have travelled enough now, that I have
never run into that sort of . . .and never with a
Negro porter. Usually when you run into one of them, they always look as
though they're saying, "Thank God, at last you've been able to get
decent accommodations." And you'd have the hardest time trying to even
give them a tip. Oh, yes. As a matter of fact, on that same trip, the
man who was the porter on the train, if he dusted me once, he dusted me
up and down, all over. Just little things, like, "Oh, I'm so glad to see
you. Are you having a nice trip?" Just little, you know. I got off and
he had been so nice to me, I decide I'm going to be r-e-a-l sporty,
1936?
That's a long time ago. Usually what a dollar was with me, a quarter was my speed. But for this man, I folded this up, so it wouldn't show so much; I'm just going to slip it to him. With the last brush-down, my little suit he brushed down. "Oh no, dear. Oh, no, no, no. It's been a pleasure having you on here. No." I said, "But you've been so. . ." "Oh, no, no, no." He just folded my little money back. "No, dear. It's been a pleasure having you on here. It makes me very happy to see you here. And I hope you enjoy your trip all the way." He did more for me than that, later, however, but I had no idea.
Now, going back to this waiter, who looked like he wished there were same way he could have just waved me completely into oblivion, or somewhere. So I just stood. Of course by this time, I have fought discrimination so many times and so many ways, that I could've just froze and stay and look at anything and anybody, you know, just look. So I'm just standing, looking at him. So he stood there, and then finally he gave me a sign, and he led me over to a table where, with all due respects to the lady—and I apologize a thousand times for this, anytime I think of it, because I could be so wrong—but she looked like the most hardened prostitute. You know that vision you can get about a hardened woman who has had all the hard knocks? Well, that's what she looked like. Painted to the gills. Hard lines under here. Dyed hair. He set me there. The only thing I can think of that he figured: he looked at her and said, "Well, you should be willing to accept anything from anybody", and he set me down. So that's the way I set down at a table.
Was she a white woman?
Yes, she was white. But she looked like life had dealt her every raw deal
in the world, and she was fighting it to death. Painted and dyed, and
everything. But, you know, that's why I say everytime I think of her, or
think of that experience, in the back of my mind, I'm offering
apologies. Because she was the nicest thing that ever happened to me in
an unpleasant situation. She didn't look shocked. She didn't look like
anything had happened. She just looked up from what she was having and
said, "Good morning. I hope you're having a pleasant trip." And I said,
"Thank you", and sat down. I ordered toast, orange juice, coffee. I
couldn't eat the toast. I sipped about one sip of the orange juice and
about half of the cup of coffee. I was filled right up to here. I don't
know how that man destroyed me, but he destroyed me! I guess the first
thing: I didn't expect it from one of my own. And then the expression on
his face: "What in the world are you doing here? How
dare you come here on my car!" But she was just as
pleasant as she could be, and she tried her best to make me feel
comfortable, evidently. Because, you know, she was just as pleasant, but
normally; she didn't seem to be acting unnatural. But just a nice
person. And I tried my best to respond. But all the time, within me, I'm
apologizing to her: oh, I am so sorry to have judged you to be what you
look like you are. But I always believed that that's what he read there, when he put me with this woman. But she really
saved my day for me. I would have loved to have helped her look a little
different
But the nearest to that was coming down from New York. I had gone over to
see relatives in Plainfield. And instead of taking my train out of New
York, I picked it up in Newark, which is just about ten minutes out of
New York.
They moved him on out?
Yes. They moved him somewhere. They made my bed and he wasn't there.
You had travelled, though, in the deep South, where there wasn't railroad service, and you'd have to be overnight and look for accommodations. That's a whole different world, isn't it?
Well, I would guess so. But I didn't ever have that experience, I don't think.
The longest trip I ever took in the South —I don't know if I remember it,
but I think I do—I was coming from Oklahoma City to Georgia, on the Rock
Island. I remember getting to Memphis. It was just a matter that you
rode all night. Porters would come through to see if anybody wanted a
pillow. When I got to Memphis, I remember I had time there, because I
was able to walk out a while. But I think you picked up your
train—rather, I picked up mine—say, maybe, when you got in, it left in
an hour, or two hours, or something. And then you rode all day. Well, by
the time you rode all day
That was the Jim Crow car?
Oh, yes. Oh, yes, definitely. That was Jim Crow all the way. And they
would have anything and everything. Although, if you can keep a sense of
humour, there's always something funny. I remember on that train from
Oklahoma—I believe that old man came all the way to Memphis. He was
sitting on the far seat with a guitar. And he played the guitar and sang
all along. Then he'd get rest and after a while, he'd sing again. And
everytime the train would stop—and it may not have been local, but it
stopped at many stations—and a person would get on, he would ask you
where you were going. I remember when I got on, he said, after a while,
"Daughter, where you going?" Well, I told him that I was going to
Georgia. He said, Well, he didn't know nobody over there in Georgia. And
he just went back to singing. The next person he asked, I believe he was
going to Texas. Either he was coming from Texas or he was going to
Texas. And if he's going to Texas, evidently he had to get to Memphis
and then take off somewhere. But he must have been coming from, because
it seems to me he should have been going the other way if he was going
to Texas. But at any rate, Texas was the thing he said to the old man.
The only man stopped and he said, "Texas. Uh huh. Do you know Joe?" The
man said, "Who?" "Joe! You know, I never did know the rest of his name,
but he's from Texas. I just figured you might know Joe." The man said,
"No." He didn't think he knew Joe. Well, I thought I would die. I sat
back there and I thought that was the funniest question I had ever
heard. Joe from Texas.
Was that a musician, you think?
No, no, he was just a. . .well, I say 'no, no' but that could be wrong. But one of these itinerant players. The only place I'd ever seen it was Mississippi. When I was in Clarksdale I was awakened one night with this music. I didn't know what in the world it was. I jumped up and tried to find wherever it was coming from, and finally discovered that they were outside of my window—three men with their guitars or banjos or whatever—playing and singing. And the lady, where I was living, had gotten up, you know, and so, of course, I'm full of questions, what this is all about. And she said that they travel around like that and they stop and sing, and if you have anything to give them: money, or even sometimes food, you just pass it out to them. And they entertained you. But the interesting thing about that was, some of the music those people sang that night, I've heard on T.V. with the musicians of the day, making fortunes out of it, even to the words.
Blues. Mississippi blues?
That's right. I don't remember all of it, but a part of it went: "standing on the railroad track, honey won't you take me back?" You know, and all the verses went on, but always there was this "railroad track". And the same beat and the same sort of harmony, and you hear it right today. I say, yes, you've all been down there and picked it up.
Do you remember at the time how you felt about that music, having been trained in classical music, but having this temptation for ragtime?
I like it, I like it. Not only that, I'll tell you another thing. I say
to myself and I kid people when it comes up. I say, I know perfectly
well
Did you ever feel kind of restrained then, from working at the Mutual, where things were kind of. . .well, let me ask it this way. Were these kind of street musicians—blues people, jazz groups in Durham—were there, do you recall?
Not that I knew anything about. The only place I ever saw or heard that kind of music, you know, just out played for the public, was in Mississippi. And that seems to have been the characteristic; they did it all around in that area. As a matter of fact, did I say Clarksdale? Because it was not Clarksdale, it was Meridian, Mississippi where I had that experience. But the lady where I was living said that that was customary. They expected, usual. They travelled all through the state in that area of the country and played that music, and you handed them out. But I never saw anybody do that here. I hear the music here. Anywhere where there are blacks, you're going to hear somebody who plays that type of music, there's no question. And good. They usually do a good job. I think it's a natural thing.
You mentioned Bess Whitted yesterday, and the piano and so forth. What kind of music was played at the forum at the Mutual?
Oh, we played some of every type of music. Not the blues and that sort of
thing, no. We had a glee club. We sang spirituals; we liked spirituals
But at private parties, though, there might be blues singing, or jazz?
There would be plenty of it played, and usually—he's dead now, but he was one of the professors over here at North Carolina Central—Dr. Brown. Brown was a young fellow here, and he was teaching. I wish I could remember his first name. But any rate, I can't right this minute. He taught. But he could play some of the bluest blues you have ever heard. And he had some of the bluest verses going with those blues. And he could play other music as well. But he really could play that sort of thing. And he'd sit down there, and he had all sorts of verses, probably some he made up, and plenty that he picked up, because they are here. A lot of people know many, many, many that have been handed down and handed down. This fellow that I said had such a beautiful voice, he used to sing a real—what was that thing? Really, it was a song that you didn't even let the older generation hear you listen to him sing that one. I can't remember the name of it now. Of course, in today's time, it would be called mild. But for that time, we were really being wild when we set down and let John Allen play his number and say his verses. Because they were all innuendo or suggestive.
[END OF TAPE 1, SIDE A]
[START OF TAPE 1, SIDE B]
But I used to go to some of the tournaments. And one of the best tennis
players there at that time—I don't know that I remember his name too
well,
Could Bess Whitted play that way? Did you ever hear her?
No, Bess didn't do much playing. But Bess knew music. Bess had gone to—I
believe
Would she have frowned on that music, though? Have you ever seen her at private parties where she would enjoy the blues?
Oh heck, yes. She probably could make up some of the verses, better than most of us. Because she could sit down and she loved jokes. And they could get kind of blue. And she'd still enjoy them. She would be sitting over there with the joke tellers when I would've moved off because they'd gotten a little too blue for me. Oh, yes. She loved all of that sort of thing.
Was there anybody at the Mutual who would stand back? Would C.C. Spaulding?
Oh, he didn't approve of any of the things we did. He didn't approve of
your dancing. If he had known anybody had even had a cigaret or a little
wine—I didn't say whiskey, just a little wine—he wouldn't have approved
of it. Way in late, late, late years, I went on a trip to California. We
were going out there for insurance convention, but they made up a train
in Chicago, and we travelled across country, the southern route, and
came back the northern route. It was marvelous. It took us better than
thirty days. But Poppa was on the train with us. One of the girls with
us—Eula and I were going together and we had another young girl with us,
a friend of ours. And the reason she was going, she had lost her
husband, very sudden death. And he was a very young doctor, a young man.
And we thought maybe this would be a nice trip for her. She had
relatives in California, so we said come on and go with us. Then, if you
want to stay with them a while, you come back whenever you get ready. So
she did. So one evening, she's not feeling so well, and Mr. Spaulding,
of course, considered everybody on the train were his children. So, he
stopped by our compartment. "How is Louise?" I said, "Oh, she doesn't
feel so good." "Well," he says, "I'm going down this way, but when I
come back, you all bring her up there to my apartment. I've got
something that maybe will make her feel a little better." So we said,
yes, sir, and brought her down after a while; Louise and Eula and I go
up there. When we get there we say, "Mr. Spaulding, we've brought Louise
up here." He says, "Come on in, come on in and set down." Then he says,
"I'm going to give you a little something that my doctor gave me, and he
says that it's good for you, and under the circumstances I think that
this will be good for you." He reached around and he came out with a
little flask, about like that. You could have slipped it in your pocket.
I would guess that it could probably hold a half-pint. And then he went
over and he got a tablespoon really concerned about Louise, because we had never heard him
give anybody permission to even have a drink of wine. And he'd given her
a tablespoon full of brandy.
No. He was strictly the churchman in that time that you weren't supposed to dance, you weren't supposed to play cards, you weren't supposed to smoke. I don't guess he even had smoking in it because in the earlier days, nobody was even thinking about smoking. That came a little bit later. I'm sure he would not have approved of it, and didn't, as time went on. But honestly, we laugh now when we think about that we do have dancing in the Mutual building. I say Poppa's flip-flopping wherever he is right now, because he wouldn't let us have no kind of party where dancing was involved in the Mutual building on Paris Street. No. And yet. . .is that off?
Uh uh.
I'm not going to tell you this one then. On Poppa.
Well, Poppa's gone.
That's all right. I'm not going to tell this on Poppa. I'll go to something else.
I'm going to call Esa and tell him that I'm going to be there directly. While I'm doing that, why don't you talk to Juanita about the entertainment.
One of the things people are interested in is this fabled black middle class. If you didn't have all these institutions, opera house, ballets, and so forth, and yet there was the education and the finances, what did people do? What kind of parties and so forth?
Yes. I'll tell you.
These aren't dinner parties?
No. They're big dancing parties.
With live music?
Yes, with live music. Usually a piano player. Sometimes they'd have a piano player and maybe one or two people with instruments. But always there was some good piano player. Then you danced, in the home, and you were served, you know. Not heavy services, not that kind. Now, those were the parties that you knew were coming up. Everybody expected them, and if they hadn't come up, I think everybody would have been very unhappy.
These were formal parties where you got all dressed up?
Oh, yes. Evening gowns, oh, you dressed to go to those special parties,
the Christmas and the New Year's parties. In between it was nothing at
all for Patty or Miss Bessie to have little parties, maybe with, say,
three or four tables of bridge, that many people. And they might have a
dinner party, or they may have just a get-together. And, if somebody
came to town,
Were they mostly Mutual people.
No. Just Durham people. There'd be some Mutual people, and also other
Durham people. Well, people from the College, professional people,
doctors and their wives, dentists and their wives, lawyers and their
wives, school teachers and their husbands or wives. Just a general
group. Many of the groups have formed: you're all members of the same
church; you're members of the same club. There have always been two or
three bridge clubs in town and they meet regularly. And they have a
party during some season. Or,
And then we used to do another thing that nobody seems to do anymore.
Maybe they don't have the nerve to do it, or the guts, or maybe you
wouldn't do it in this day, I don't know. But Bess Whitted was a very
dynamic person and had lots of drive and plenty of nerve. All she needed
was a few people to follow her and work with her. And we have brought
some quite unusual entertainment to Durham over a period of years. Among
them, for instance—maybe now it's so they're all faded away so you
wouldn't know them—but we brought Mobile Sisal's Band here on one
occasion, which was quite an outstanding band. He was quite a musician
and had quite an excellent band.
Would that band play at the Royal Knights of King David?
No. Let's see, where did Mobile Sisal play? I believe that was at the—what did I tell you we have downtown now?
The Masonic Lodge?
No, no, no. That was right here in
What about Duke Ellington or Count Basie?
Yes
All of those?
They have all been here. But many of them were brought here at times when
we had a young man—I suppose he had to make money out of it some way or
other. But he would bring the big bands in here and they would either be
at that Civic Center or at one of these warehouses. That was back at the
time when I was talking about Miller and Lyle were here. But Duke
Ellington, Count Basie, another man who came along right about at the
same time
Louis Armstrong, was he here?
No, I don't ever recall Louis being here. Unless he was brought here when a couple of things have come here to the Center Theatre. But I don't remember Louis Armstrong ever being here. And I've known about him for nearly all of his existence. But I don't think he was ever here. But there was another band man who came along about the same time as Count Basie. I can see the man, you know, picture him, but I can't think of his name, now. But any rate, virtually all of the big bands have been here one time or other.
Now, at this Civic Center, would that be whites and blacks?
Yes. It's used by both whites and blacks. I don't think I've ever known of any time when they did anything together. And yet, I don't think there's ever been a time when blacks couldn't observe from the balcony or whites couldn't observe from the balcony. For instance, you're having something downstairs and I don't think there was ever any prohibition that you could not let people go upstairs and watch. But that's just in my mind. I don't recall.
When Mobile Sisal was here, you're suggesting that maybe whites sat upstairs and blacks downstairs?
Oh, no, no. Let me see if I can figure about that. I'm not suggesting
that, but I am saying this: very likely that happened and there would
have been no objection to it happening. But I don't know that it did happen in that specific case. Because that was a
situation that was handled so closely by a group that we had all of the
tickets. You see, it was something we had gone on the line to furnish
the pay. And it was our individual effort—like a club. So, unless we
sold you a ticket, there would not have been any way for you to be
there. I can't tell you that we didn't sell some white tickets; we
probably did. I don't know whether we did or not, but we probably did,
and if we did, those people could come and would have no problem coming.
I don't remember the whole thing enough to say that is what happened in
that instance.
Oh, yes.
VIOLA A child prodigy. Well, we brought her here. And she and her mother stayed at Bess's house. As you know, Mrs. Skylar was white.
This is the wife of George Skylar? Editor of the Pittsburgh
Courier?
That's right. That's the man, and the woman. Well, you know, she was a Texas woman. Well, she stayed right at Bess's house. Well, I feel very sure that we sold tickets to both white and black for that. And I think—my problem is remembering where these various things were; we did so many of those sort of things back then at certain times. I don't recall now whether that was at the Ben Duke Auditorium, or it could've been at the Center Theatre.
What intrigues me is that whites and blacks were attending the same event.
There was no separation.
They would not segregate the whites?
No. If we had something, which we had many of, and we sold tickets. If we
had it, we had to sell tickets, because that's the way we'd raise the
money. Ours was usually for scholarships or one of these sort of things.
And if we had white friends, 'would you like to buy tickets to this;
we're going to bring so-and-so'. If they were sold tickets, they came to
the audience just like anybody else, and sat anywhere. If they came down
here, they always did that at Ben Duke Auditorium. Anything we ever gave
at the Center Theatre: the same thing was true. The reason the question
is coming into your mind:
Something I'd like you to expand on a bit is this difficulty of travel for black professionals in this period, given the lack of accommodations, and the great number of people coming to visit Durham—either on business, or to see the Mutual, or whatever—and where they would stay. Was there a hotel for a time?
Oh, yes. For a time, Dr. Darnell, who was the medical director for North Carolina Mutual, built a hotel down on Pettigrew Street, where the drugstore and all of those things were. Very lovely place; it was true for several years, as long as he held it in charge and was responsible for how it was managed and run. It was very lovely. Anybody would have been quite comfortable and would not have objected to going there. And many people did come during that period.
What was the name of it?
Biltmore. Biltmore Hotel. And the theatre was in there, that we were talking about. And at first, downstrairs, was a very nice eating place. The eating place did not last too long, and the idea of eating was abandoned. Then finally Dr. Darnell started letting other people run the hotel, and so it began, in time, to go down to the place where few people that would have come to visit me, that I would have recommended to go there to stay.
For the most part would people stay in people's homes when they came here?
Yes, for the most part.
Were there one or two homes that were kind of singled out that would kind of serve as hotels for these dignitaries?
You know, I tried to think of that briefly, when we were talking yesterday, because that's what happened in my home in Macon. At my mother's and father's home, every person who came from North Carolina Mutual was directed to see Mrs. Mitchell, or Mr. Mitchell, that they very likely would have a room that they could put you up, and maybe feed them. On occasion she would, but she didn't always do that. Especially if they were going to stay any length of time. But Mr. Wheeler's father, Mr. Merritt, and one of the Spaulding brothers who eventually was working in Georgia—all stayed in our house when I was a kid.
They just knew about your house?
Word of mouth, you know. I don't know how Mr. Merritt got there the first time, but very likely somebody said to him, 'what you do is this." Even a person who didn't ordinarily do it—because my mother didn't make a habit of it; we didn't have somebody in the house all of the time. But maybe a friend of hers would say to her, 'You know, Mr. so-and-so is coming here', or, 'Mrs. so-and-so is coming here, could you take care of them for about a day or so?' Or a week, or something. Well, if she liked you well enough, she knew that it would be O.K. And if she had a spare room, she'd say, 'Well, yes, o.k., I'll take him.' Two things: first thing, it was rendering a service. But also, she was making a little money because they were going to pay her a little something. And few people didn't need a little extra money. Certainly my family. So, I'm sure then when Mr. Merritt comes back to Durham and they're going to send Mr. Wheeler down there, because he's going to open up Atlanta, and then come on in to Macon. 'So, when you get to Macon, you be sure to get in touch with the Mitchells on such-and-such a street.'
[END OF TAPE 1, SIDE B]
[START OF TAPE 2, SIDE A]
[begins mid-sentence]—five rooms and the kitchen and another sleeping
quarter, but only for the family use. The house was one of the
old-fashioned houses where
It was latticed in. And, all of the bathing, you know, was in tubs. You
bathed on Saturday nights. Except that my mother had a very bad habit
about my bathing. She made me bathe more than I thought was necessary
In Durham you were saying there was a number of these homes that would be
kind of
Well here—and now I can't recall; there may have been; I would guess
there were plenty, because now that I'm thinking about it I know of one
place where people used to go to eat. The reason it comes to mind is
that somebody
Was there a grapevine, where you knew, if you were travelling, where you might stay?
You would know, because you made arrangements in front, you know. If you were going somewhere. I never experienced much of that, because in some ways, I guess, I'm called a little queer. I'm not very good at visiting. And so, consequently, I couldn't make it until there were places you could go, to a hotel. All of my travelling has been like that. A lot of our people still do that. I have friends right here now. She gets up and goes all over this country, and I doubt if she's ever made a hotel reservation in her life. This also is a pattern I think: she is a widow of a physician. And, you know, we all have these little organizations, physicians' wives organization, physicians' clubs and things. She can travel all over this country, and she'll go from one place to the other. She'll stay at some physician's home, or some physician's widow's home. And they, in turn, if they get up and want to go somewhere, it's nothing for them, maybe to call from Raleigh, and say, "I'll be in Durham in thirty minutes." Or, "I'll be in Durham in an hour." Or, "I'll be there tomorrow." That friend just makes arrangements for them to come right on over, no problem.
What about people travelling through on business? Let's say people working in the South in the nineteen-thirties in the NAACP, would they stop in Durham?
It's the same thing. Friends. Many a time they'd be at Mr. Cox's house. Many of them would be at Bess's. She was one of the most hospitable ones. Any number of people could stop at Bess's. You'd call Bess Whitted. They could be there. Certain people—and I say 'certain people', if you happen to be friends of theirs, there was always a place for you at the Darnells'. Maybe one or two people could go to C.C. Spaulding's home, the old man. All of us could have come if it had been left with him, but his wife was an entirely different person. Probably the most you could've gotten there was one or two of us, like that. But generally the pattern was—and still is, because most of my friends would go on a trip and let their relatives or friends know they're on their way and they go there. I'm just, as I said, queer; I can't do it. I can't do it because I couldn't stand for you to drop in on me without letting me know. So, I'll never be anybody's house guest. I just can't do that. Now, if I decided to invite you, I'm delighted to have you, and I'll work myself to death to have it comfortable for you. But if I walk to my front door and you're standing there, and you'd come from somewhere, you'd just have to pick me right up off the floor. Because I can't cope with that sort of thing. So, as a result, my whole lifestyle has been governed by that. I don't try to never do anything to anybody that I would not like to have done to me.
Can you remember some of the people who came into town, like Dr. DuBois was here one time, wasn't he?
Yes. He was here years and years ago. And frankly, I have no idea where he stayed. But I would guess—and I think it probably would be a pretty good guess—he probably stayed at Mr. Spaulding's.
What about James Weldon Johnson, do you remember him?
Yes. Oh, boy, I used to read every last thing he ever wrote. I thought I
was right good at reciting his stuff. Again, he could have stayed— and
DuBois—at Mr. Spaulding's, at Mr. Merritt's, when John Merritt was
living. And Patty, who was his daughter—they could have stayed there
easily. Dr. Moore—they
When Paul Robeson, would C.C. Spaulding—because they might have differing philosophies—would he. . .?
They may have never done anything but met. Paul may not have been
impressed with Mr. Spaulding and Mr. Spaulding would have been impressed
with him and who he was, and that sort of thing. But they never would
have had too much in common. And this is another thing. I would have
lost it, but you mentioned it: many people stayed on the college campus.
Many came and they were housed there. That I had actually forgotten. But
I think that's where Paul Robeson stayed. That's where Adam stayed most
of the time, when we came. Dr. Shepard was quite a character and he
loved all of them, you see. And they were quite at home with him. He was
not at all the same type as Mr. C.C. Mr. C.C. was a churchman. If you
were a bishop, presiding elder, preacher, very likely that would have
perked him up to be very sure they were taken care of, even if he wasn't
taking care of them. Dr. Shepard was entirely different. He liked all
styles, all kinds. And he exposed his student body to them. They didn't
have to have the same philosophy by a long shot. The first memory I have
of Dr. Shepard that focussed my attention on him in deep admiration for
the rest of his life—I knew him before then; just knew who he was; had
been in and out of there—but I went down to the campus on some occasion.
I haven't the slightest idea what it was. Sitting up on the rostrum were
several whites. And they were influential whites. Whites who were over
at the
Victor Bryant senior, would that be one of the people?
If so, he wouldn't have been there this time, because when I came to
Durham, he had died. I knew Victor Bryant, the young one, who is now the
senior. I saw him get religion. I know the time when he was real tough
to get along with. But anyhow, everything around the rostrum were
democrats. Dr. Shepard was a republican. He made no bones about it. And
he had to go to the North Carolina Legislative Body to get any money he
was going to get, to help him with his school. So he got up, a tall,
slim man. He had kind of a whine and talk, you know. "Heh, heh, heh,
heh," he'd say, "this is Mr. so-and-so." He was quite good. He'd say
what he did and who he was. He ended each one with, "a good democrat."
Blah, blah, blah, blah. "This is Mr. so-and-so; good democrat. They hold
the money strings, you know." But before he finished his conversation:"
'Course, all of them know, as well as you do, that I am a good
republican."
I remember the first time I went out and sat in his office, really, just
a social visit. Mrs. Whitted, Bess Whitted, had lived with them, when
she came to Durham a younger woman. He had been with his mother, rather.
So she knew them all well. So whenever we wanted to put on a program, or
wanted to bring some artist to Durham, we'd go down there and try to
talk Dr. Shepard into letting us use the auditorium—which we did many
times. Then, of course, we'd have to go into all of the details with
him. What sort of money we were going to charge, and what we were going
to have to pay, and what we were going to do
We used to be in plays and he'd let us come down to the building that used to be right on this street, but it was burned: Chidley Hall. He'd let you go there to rehearse. It was nothing for you to be rehearsing, and somebody else would be rehearsing and you'd walk over to a window and stand there, and you'd look right into Dr. Shepard's eyes. Because he'd be out there looking in, to see what you were doing. He kept that campus right in the palm of his hand.
So he was to the campus kind of like Poppa Spaulding was to the Mutual?
Owned the whole shebang. Or at least they felt they did. Of course, they pretty nearly ran it, too.
Did they cooperate kind of as community leaders?
Oh, yes, he—and there was another man here, Professor Pearson; he was the principal of the high school.
W.G. Pearson.
Yes. Pearson, Shepard, and Spaulding. They were very closely associated and they all had the whole interest. Not only what they were doing themselves, but the entire interest. And they cooperated with each other for any effort that you were putting on. Anytime that Dr. Shepard wanted anything from North Carolina Mutual, Mr. Spaulding delivered. Yes. It was a very closely-knit association and it was a beautiful one. It wasn't one where you could ever object to it one way or the other. Or, I couldn't. They needed each other. They needed support. They gave each other support.
Even though they didn't always agree?
Oh, no, no.
Spaulding was a democrat too? And Shepard a republican?
Yes. I don't know whether they ever discussed it, because Dr. Shepard just made his statements and what you weren't supposed to discuss with him, you just didn't. However, Spaulding was a very volatile man, so they could have. But I doubt if either of them did. Because I would guess, in that day and time, they were what they were because they believed in what their party was saying. But I don't think either one of them would have fought each other over it. Because they knew neither one of them was worth a cuss, you know. So, I doubt if it was that bad.
Speaking of that, this is maybe something that'd interest you. Mr. Spaulding took me the first time that I was able to register, or was registered. I don't know if I ever knew anything about registration before. Mr. Spaulding would take some of us from the office down to the courthouse to register. And the day that he took me down—there were about three or four of us that went down.
All Mutual people?
Yes. I would presume that was being done by other leaders—doing the same thing. But I don't know. Because that was all very new to me then. I knew nothing about registration. I knew you were supposed to vote, and that you ought to definitely be voting, but I had not come up with that you had to be registered, or anything of the kind.
Had your parents voted in Georgia, do you think?
Oh I'm sure my parents hadn't. I feel very sure they had not. Because, as
I told you, the first time that I knew anything about it, I was at
Morris Brown and my mother's dead. I was at Morris Brown when Harry
Pace, and Ben Davis and those men came to the school and started
indoctrinating us, really informing us, I say indoctrinating, but that's
a good word, too, I guess. Any rate, up until then, no, I don't know if
I've ever heard the word, 'vote', meaning something pertaining to me. I
guess maybe I'd heard the word because
Mr. Spaulding, then, would take new employees?
No. He was taking old employees. Because, you see, at that time, that was the beginning of registration here. Very few people, blacks, had been registered.
This is the nineteen-twenties?
Well, I got here in '24, so it must have been probably the first year I
was here. Because he was taking just three or four at a time down. They
had probably been battling it out, arguing it out, how it was going to
be done, but he and some of the leaders must have been putting up quite
a fight, saying, "It's got to be done." So, they worked out the way it's
going to be done. So, they're going to take a few at a time down there.
And only somebody like Mr. Spaulding probably could get you registered.
I wouldn't doubt it. All of it that's true. I imagine that if I walked
down there to be registered, I never would have gotten registered.
Listen, this, to me, is the priceless part of that. We walked down
there. There sits a man with his book, and then his bible. I believe it
was a bible; I might be wrong. But any rate: a book. So he hands you
that to read. That's no sweat. I read what he said, what is there. So he
gives me the privilege. He writes my name down, address, and whatever
else goes with it. Next girl comes up. He gives it to her. She reads,
and he says to her. "That's not correct." I think that was about the
third. I think two of us got by before we questioned him. But any rate,
when he questioned her, he tells her the word she's mispronounced. And,
would you believe it? You would never know; you'd never recognize that
word. So he reads the sentence and you'd never heard such reading in
your life. For somebody sitting up there
[END OF TAPE 2, SIDE A]
[START OF TAPE 2, SIDE B]
She's still living, and I just learned that she's living very near me, where she used to live, once upon a time. But that old rascal couldn't read a lick himself, but he did that to us. And I am quite sure that we didn't have a rough time at all. But can you imagine somebody else who tried to go in there and get registered, and they didn't have a C.C. Spaulding standing right there with them?
Now, there was an effort, though, beginning in the late twenties, to do something about that?
Oh, yes. That was the beginning. I believe that was the very beginning. I don't know that, but I believe that was really
the beginning. But NAACP had been fighting for many years and still was.
And still is, for that matter. But we began to form these committees.
What is now the committee. . .
Durham Committee on the Affairs of Black People?
Yes.
What used to be the Durham Committee on
Yes. I was trying to go back to how it used to be. But the birth of that began to come.
Can you remember the steps leading up to that? That's, I think, in the mid-thirties.
The only thing that I remember about it is in the early years. Since we've been talking I've been trying to think of that one man, that, if he is still living, he'd be somebody who could tell you all that story.
Was he a lawyer?
No. And that's why this particular memory to me is such a beautiful one. I went to several meetings. I started to say 'formative stage'. But I guess formative stage, when you think about how it has developed and what it has become. So, it was in the earlier years of it. People would meet. You've probably run into this is your history about Durham. The tennis clubhouse up here?
Yes. The Algonquin?
Yes. Well, at that time that was another one of the meeting places.
Incidentally, there were a few bedrooms upstairs there where people were
housed. And, at one time, we had delightful food served there. I used to
take
Who built that? And how was that financed and taken care of?
Well, you can thank Bess Whitted and W.D. Hill as the two people who
John Wheeler was a great tennis player.
Oh, yes, yes. So he was a great supporter of the clubhouse, too.
There's a story—it may be entirely untrue—that he had something to do with the development of Arthur Ashe. Have you ever heard that?
No, I haven't. But that does not make it untrue, and I'll tell you why.
Were you ever told that a Dr. Johnson also had something to do with the
development of Ashe? I think he did. There was a doctor in, I believe,
Lynchburg, Virginia, who was quite a tennis enthusiast. Probably quite a
tennis player at some time, I don't know. But he was certainly an
enthusiast, and a developer of young people. One of the people that I
know about, that he was
Thea Gibson?
That's right. Well, this man, Johnson, was quite, quite responsible for her. John and Johnson worked very closely together. That's why I say, anywhere you hear Johnson's name attached to Ashe, I would be quite willing to believe that Wheeler had something to do with it, too. Because they both worked very closely wherever they saw promising young people, in tennis especially. I never remember John saying anything about Arthur Ashe as such, but that doesn't mean a thing. He could well have had, because he was also the type of person—as you probably already know from his history—wherever there seemed to have been a bright spot, or the possibility of one, you could find John trying to do something about it, or trying to help. So he may have had a good deal to do with it. I don't know.
Well, this club, you were saying. . . .
Oh, yes. And it was a meeting place. It was a meeting place for everything. The men's bridge club met up there. Many times co-ed clubs, I guess you'd call them, the younger fellows and girls. We'd have clubs and we'd meet up there. And any other kind of meeting. NAACP meetings met up there. And then when this organization was formed, they met there. So it really served exactly what it said: a clubhouse. Long after there was very little tennis. Now, when I first came to Durham, that was the way we spent our afternoons. We'd come home from work in the summertime and get dressed and walk down to the tennis court to see tennis. And we saw some beautiful tennis. Because people came from Virginia and other parts of North Carolina. And some of our best tennis players played right down there on that court. That's the way we spent our evenings.
I want to get back to the Durham Committee.
Oh, yes. Well the only thing I started to say there about it, that I wish
I could remember. I went to a meeting. I used to go occasionally. I
wasn't one of those people who was at every meeting or anything, but in
the earlier days I used to go occasionally. And I went there one night
and I don't know what happened. John either had to leave the meeting, or
he found out late that he couldn't be at the meeting, and they were just
getting back knowledge in the evening, that he would not be there to
preside. Two things impressed me that I still remember. The first thing
was the cross-section. There were people from every walk of life at that
meeting. People you knew; people that you knew what they did; people
that you had heard of; people that you'd never heard of; people that
you'd never seen. But many of them, they would maybe get up to say
something and you'd say, "Oh, yeah, that's such-and-such a section",
He remained active in the Committee?
Oh, yes, he was.
Was he a tobacco worker, or anything?
Could have been. He was probably a tobacco worker. Or, if he wasn't that, he was some other worker. He was no one that I had come in contact with as such, knowing him from working in the Mutual or working in the Savings and Loan, or working in the bank—working in any place, you know, that I had come in contact with anybody.
Was the labor union represented or active in those meetings?
They became. When you said labor union, I'm trying to think if that man was a member of the labor union, but I'd be afraid to say that, because I'm too vague on it. But, yes, I do know that members of the labor union, and I think they are still, very active in that organization. I know they have been and I think they still are.
John Wheeler worked with—this is Tobacco Workers International?
John could work with everybody and anybody and they had to respect him. And yet he worked with them, and they could disagree right down to the nth degree, but nine out of every ten times they'd work out some kind of way that they could work together. There's a man here in Durham, and I think that he is an international officer, a member of that group you're talking about, named Hobby. Have you heard the name, Hobby?
How do you spell it?
H-O-B-B-Y. I know that our Committee has worked with Hobby and Hobby has
worked with the Committee. I don't know if he's a member or anything of
the kind.
John Wheeler was not the first leader of the Durham Committee? There were earlier people? Do you remember?
I couldn't tell you that. I mean, and be the least bit accurate. I'm not sure. Because that was a pretty early meeting that I went and was so impressed. And it seems to me that it was John who was not there then. What I kind of think is true—now, I'm not sure this is true. There are people here who can give you a far more accurate picture of that. And Babe Henderson may be one of them, if you have not talked with him.
Or
Oh yes, he would. But my feeling is that John served that Committee more times than once. He stepped down for somebody else, then he came back in, and that sort of thing. And I sort of think he was in very early.
Do you remember the NAACP being here before that Committee?
Yes, I think I do. In fact, I know I do that. The NAACP was here before anything. In fact NAACP was anywhere I've ever been, before anything else.
Do you remember any of the Durham organizers?
No, I don't know who they were. No, I really don't.
Do you know R. McKentz Andrews?
Yes, I knew him. But, you see, the way I knew him: he had been here before I came to Durham. He had written the book on John Merritt's life, and had left. And then he came back here after I came here. And it was at that time that I knew him, and came to admire and respect him greatly, too. Because he was a stickler for accuracy and perfection.
When DuBois was here, did you meet him?
I don't recall that I did. I guess I recall his being here, and what I
would think is that I was just duly impressed, as a young man, at
Dubois.
Did everybody read The Crisis is those days?
Yes, The Crisis was a thing that most people knew
about. At least I knew about, and I don't think I was unique.
Was Marcus Garvey ever in Durham?
Not to my knowledge. If he was here, he came before my time. Because I would have remembered Marcus Garvey coming here I think. I don't think he could have come without me knowing, because I'd been aware of him a long, long time.
Was there some kind of community opinion?
I would guess this, and this, again, is purely a guess. I would guess
that we would not have had any appreciation for Marcus Garvey. I have
what I think may be a sound basis for that; it isn't necessarily true.
But we had a man here named C. Benjamin Curly, who came from New York
City. A very well-trained man, a brilliant man. He was too far ahead of
us when he came through. Among the things that I can point to as
evidence of that was among the things that Mr. Curly said to North
Carolina Mutual You want to be the comptroller, and so you say this is
not the way it's done. That's the sort of reasoning, I think, that was
behind that. Because we really are timely people; we never hired
anybody. But when there was a need for somebody to help out a sister
company, that was trying to reorganize or get some things going, we were
quite generous and willing to let Mr. Curly go and help them, until they
got straightened out. Then, of course, he was to come back to us. It
took several years before the Insurance Department, I believe it was, or
some of their examiners—it may have been an
We were talking about the Garvey movement, now. Was he linked up somehow?
Yes. Now, Curly came from New York, and he had known Garvey. And not only
that. I don't know how a firm Garveyite he was—maybe he wasn't a firm
Garveyite at all. But he did not have the same attitude about Garvey and
Garvey's
Do you know if there was a chapter of the Garvey Movement in town?
No, I don't think it ever got that close to Durham at all. The only thing
you knew about Garvey was what you read in the black press. And, you
know, we used to have a lot of black press: the Chicago
Defender, the Courier, and all of the black
papers. EVerybody wrote about Garvey. But I don't think there was ever
any kind of movement here. If so, I never knew about it. Which doesn't
necessarily mean that there wasn't. I didn't know everything. And
certainly, at that time, I wasn't interested in much.
You were talking about folks who came to town, or didn't come to town, can you remember others? Well, let me mention some. Mary McLeod Methuen. was she here often?
Yes, she'd been here. While I certainly wouldn't want to say this as
I'm thinking about the Forum that you used to have on Saturdays, the people who would come there. Do you remember some of those figures?
Well, I guess the most exciting one that I recall—you mean at our Forum,
the
Did they share your feelings, the other women?
I don't know. I imagine so. But I do remember my own, because I was very
vocal and very ugly. was a wonderful woman, but the way that struck me and the way that
turned me around that quickly, I have thought of it many times and
laughed and said, 'Well that must be like people I've heard talk about
getting religion, make them start shouting and say they've got it.' You
know, she walked with a stride. And she turned. And, of course you know,
among the things I'd said, from pictures, she didn't look like anything,
either. And when she walked and she just turned to. See, she's walking
and we're sitting this way. And she turns around and she smiles. And I
don't know whether she said, 'Good afternoon", or "Good morning", but
she smiled and spoke. And they ushered her over to have a seat. I just
feel like a ton of bricks for that lady. And by the time it came to give
her that corsage, I was the happiest person in that building; I really
was. And from that moment on, I don't think she ever gave another thing
that I wasn't reading about it, thinking about, talking about it. The
funny thing about it, I don't recall ever having a reaction like that
about a visitor coming. I was always one of those who wanted to put our
best foot forward and do for them. But I acted actually horrible all the
time before that lady got to us.
Do you remember what she talked about at all?
No. Not at all. I probably didn't hear her then. I'm just sitting up
there drooling. But I do know this: she swayed the whole audience. I
know that.
[END OF TAPE 2, SIDE B]
[START OF TAPE 3, SIDE A]
Mr. Spaulding got very excited about him and went out and got him a very pretty piece of luggage. So that was another thing.
Was he still small? Were they still making the Our Gang movies?
No. But there hadn't been a long space between when they were still making them and when he came here. He was not a grown man. He was still a young fellow. We had so many people. Almost anybody you could name had been through the Mutual at one time or another, while I was there. But only where some specific thing makes them stand out, I can't remember. But few people came to Durham that didn't come there. And all types of people. All races of people. In later years, I think one of the most exciting visitors we had was
That's right. His entourage, his wife, and a whole group of them. That was exciting. Of course you know Esa—this is a much later period in the life of the company—but, he had a thing about bringing every top-flight businessman he could find through. And you had dinners and meet them. And with me I forget, two minutes later, who they were. 'Oh yes! With I.B.M.!' Or with so-and-so. But back in the earlier days, I doubt if many people came to Durham and didn't stop by. Of course, we were always welcoming people, wanting them to come. And many came simply because of the fact that we were sitting right in the heart of the city, and a black company. And they couldn't believe it. Or, they had already heard about us and they came to see.
I'm interested in Mrs. Methuen because I'm wondering if there were many
Yes. For instance there was a woman here, Professor Pearson's wife. Women
in that day and time—most of them who were making some kind of
contribution— they were usually church women or club women. Women who
were members of clubs that Mrs. Methuen was instrumental in getting
started, you know, and that sort of thing. This woman, Mrs. Pearson, was
one of those sorts of women. They went to various conventions and they
came back and tried to start things going here. I don't know of anybody
here who made a sort of contribution like Mrs. Methuen, or even near like Mrs. Methuen.
But in almost every community, as I'm trying to recall, that I've gone into, there's always been two or three very active, very outstanding women, who were involved in all the movements that were around: social or educational. And I'm quite sure Mrs. Methuen influenced many of them. In this state, however, I don't think was any influential thing going there, but they were of a kind. Miss Charlotte Hawkins Brown over here at Sedalia, she was quite a woman, too, in her own right. And almost everyone of the young people, especially of the professional folks here, that type of people—nearly all of those children who left Durham probably in the sixth grade, and finished all of their high school work at Sedalia and left there and went to college.
This was a private, kind of finishing school?
Yeah, that's really what she made of it, virtually. I think I'm correct: if she was not a New Englander, she was educated in New England. And she felt that you should be given a certain amount of polish, culture, and refinement that you were not getting here. Not many places, either, for that matter. I don't think any of the kids in college today have been given any refinement.
It wasn't just Mutual children who went to her school?
No. Almost any child here, about like George Cox, that age. Any parent who had a little extra money at all could make a sacrifice to do it, as my mother and father did for me—that little dollar a month business. They tried to send their kid to Sedalia. And that was not just in Durham. All over. You could go down to Sedalia. The Cox kids went there. I don't think all of them, but Nora Mae went there. And I had occasion to go over to visit. Children would be there from all over the country. I was surprised how many different places kids came from.
Do you know anything about the curriculum?
No. The only thing I know is just from the talk of the kids, and then hearing her talk on occasion. I went up there to one or two programs, and you knew from the way she talked, and if you had contact with some of the children, you knew that she was not satisfied just to give them the A-B-C's. She wanted them to have a little more than that. And they lived by that sort of program. The things that they did there had to be done correctly, and rightly. In other words, they were taught how to eat properly, how to set a decent table, from that on out. Music, to have some appreciation of good music.
What I'm wondering about, in asking about these women, is not only when you were growing up, but throughout life, there were black women who served as, what we now call role models. Who were your heroines?
Well, mine is a strange story, and it certainly is not going to fit
anything that you have in your mind, I don't think. And yet, there were
women who were influential in my life, and all the way. But when I spoke
of Mrs. Thompson, whom I ran into at Morris Brown, I would think she
probably more nearly filled the role that you're thinking of. Because,
not only did I admire her greatly, but I admired her for so many
different things. I would love to have been like her. I thought she knew
everything. And I thought she was the best of everything.
Were these women housewives?
Yes.
Were their husbands professional men, do you recall?
No. Now, let me see. The Diamond Coxes, Mr. Cox, at this stage in his
life, had become an insurance man. He was working for North Carolina
Mutual. And his wife, dearest thing in the world, I don't think ever
Then, the next family in Oklahoma—yeah, I go to Oklahoma next. That's a really interesting story. Funny, I've had. . . .
The story about going to Oklahoma?
No, the lady I lived with in Oklahoma. When I got there, this lady had
just married. She had been married as a young girl. She and her
sweetheart were separated in some way, and she had married another man.
They had two children—a girl and a boy. I think she came from Memphis,
Tennessee. And they were living in Oklahoma City. And she lived with the
man forty years, and he had died. And when I got there, she and her
lover—her sweetheart when she was a teenager—had just married. He had
been married and living in Guthrie, Oklahoma, which is just
But they were all housewives. You know, I thought of that one day, after
we had talked a little. When you were saying about maybe something I had
said had given you that impression—or I know you've heard it many
times—about the matriarchal society. I don't believe in that. I never
have. And I'll tell you why. One reason is just exactly what you said. I
knew more housewives that didn't do a living thing but either have
children and rear them, or stay at home, and the husbands provided the
livelihood. And in all those I have thought about since that remark made
me think of it, I don't remember but one husband that I would categorize
as milktoast. Of all the different husbands and wives I've known over a
period, I don't remember but one man that always struck me, that he was
a little mamby-pamby that did exactly what his wife said. And that,
incidentally, was the girl I told you about, May's father. I see my
mother as aggressive and those sort of things, but my mother was not
domineering. But Mrs.
In talking about strong fathers, or strong men, you said something a
moment ago that might lead one to think that sometimes they were a
little too strong. You were talking about Bess Whitted and Mr. Curly,
and the notion that maybe the
Now, let me see. The men didn't want the women to appear too intelligent, is that what you're saying?
Yes.
Well, I don't know, whatever I said, if I had that in mind at the time,
but I do think this: I think that's generally true today. Men aren't too
particular about your being too obviously too smart. You can be smart,
as long as you're not obviously smart
Can you remember being conscious of being discrminated against for your
sex as well as your race? Can you remember, perhaps, when you first
became conscious
Oh, certainly. Plenty of times you know that happened. I don't imagine many working women didn't realize that. I don't know about other areas. Only twice in my entire career did I ever ask for more money, or protest the money I was getting. The first time was a very simple little thing that I couldn't quite understand. It was a matter of handling the cafeteria accounts. The cafeteria was under Mr. Merritt at the time; the company was not really operating it, as such. It was supposed to be working on its own, and when it did run short, the company would supplement their account. So that meant that I kept contact with the kitchen and money and that sort of thing. So, for doing that little more, and different from my secretarial work, I was allowed twenty cents a day on my lunch. I soon found out that because it was an allowance handled that way, that I could go to the window, and if there were, say, two pieces of pie—and oh, boy, we had marvelous cooks, so you loved to have whatever was up there—and there were three people in the line, regardless to where I stood in the line, those other two people would get the two pieces of pie and when I'd get to the window, the pie would be out. Or something similar to that.
[END OF TAPE 3, SIDE A]
[START OF TAPE 3, SIDE B]
No, really, what she was trying to do, she was trying to operate the
cafeteria on a pay-as-you-go basis. In other words, she was a marvelous
woman, and that's a whole new story. But she didn't like for the company
to have to supplement the cafeteria. She liked to make the cafeteria pay
for itself. That's all she wanted to do: make it pay for itself. Well,
now, if there were three folks up there and two of them had a dime in
their hands, and the other had a
Now, this one is an answer to your question. We come along here, and we
get to a point where they've got to do something for some of us that
have been working diligently. And the company wants to show their
appreciation. So they make you an assistant to the Treasurer. That's
very nice. And you're real pleased that somebody's taken note that you
are really trying to do, you know, and you're very happy about it. Well,
at the same time that's done—usually two or three people get the same
sort of thing happen to them. So, in my case, there was another
assistant to the Treasurer. Well, that's OK; I never had much of a
jealous streak in that area. So, that's fine. Well, North Carolina
Mutual was always very slow. I guess most institutions maybe are. Very
slow to add a little money along with the title. That comes mighty slow,
but finally you get a little something. And you go along very happy. So,
then, after a while, because you've done such a good job, you get to
made, not assistant to, but assistant. Now, you know
you're making progress. And at the same time, a young man comes along
and gets made assistant, too. Well, you see, I don't mind. But then one
day, you suddenly, for some reason or other, inadvertently—you aren't
even curious at the time—but some way or another something happens, and
you discover that the other, the male, assistant is making more money
than the female assistant. Now, also, all during that period, you have
been hearing from
What was the answer?
I never had any more trouble with that.
Is that right? They gave you the raise?
They couldn't answer it.
Are there other times in your life when you were conscious of sexual discrimination?
Not anything worse than that, nor any more than that. I probably had a little here and there, things, I would guess so. Most women do, one place or another. Some time, for no reason at all, except that they are women. But that's the only one that ever hit home with me, that I really was ready to do something about, and did.
What about other women in the company?
Oh, certainly. I think in our company—and I will always feel that this
was discrimination of the worst sort—and that's Bess Whitted. Bess did a
beautiful job of what she was doing. She was the best we had, and as
good as anybody could have had in her day, and in her time. And she did.
She might have not done many other things the way you would have wanted
them done, or somebody else might not have wanted them done, but so far
as her job, and what she meant to North Carolina Mutual at the time,
nobody could have done better, I don't believe. Yet, she did not make
any thing like the progress that I made in later
years. And she was there long enough to have made some of it. And when I
would raise the question, which I did on more times than once—and she
would probably have never realized that I did—I was told two things. One
was, she could not handle her financial affairs.
Her private financial affairs?
Yes, her private financial affairs. Which was quite true, to this extent.
And I think there was a clear explanation for that, too; her background
and everything probably was why she spent money like it had gone out of
style, for clothes. And sometimes they'd just be hanging there; she
wouldn't even have worn
So, she didn't know how to handle her financial affairs. That was the
reason they couldn't do these things. OK. They admitted that she had
never done one living thing with one penny of the company's money. And I
knew, personally, almost every one of the top officers didn't handle
their money well. It ran through their fingers like water. Mr. Merritt
was the best manager of money of anybody in the top set of officials,
like Mr. C.C. and Mr.
Were there other women that you think were either held back or didn't receive fair treatment?
That is the only person that I really felt very strongly about.
There was a woman who was highly educated and came from Oberlin. Do you remember her? Her name was Susan Norfleet?
Oh, yes. Sue Norfleet. I tell you, Sue was the first actual graduate from
a secretary school from a business department. The first stenographer
and typist and that sort of thing from Wilbur Force. In the early years
I used to say to myself, I wonder why Miss Sue hasn't made any more
progress than she's made. I have no answer to that because I wasn't here
in her younger years. And when I got here, she wasn't performing at any
level where I could determine, in my own mind, like I felt about Miss
Bessie. I saw her operate every day. I knew what she was doing and I
could appreciate what she was doing, so I could argue that. Well, Miss
Sue was not working in any area where I could make a judgment as such.
But I used to question: Ye God, she graduated from Wilbur Force one of
the years. Seems like, to me, she would have been somewhere. But then I
had opportunity to observe some of her work. And unless she had just
lost her skills or had started sliding back, which I can't determine;
but looking at it, my reaction was, well, I can understand. She really
never had on the ball what she needed to be better.
Did you ever, as you think back on it, have an awareness of sexual discrimination being a social problem in America? Or did racial discrimination so overwhelm that? There was feminism before the nineteen sixties. I was wondering if you had any feelings about that at all?
Well, I think this: I think for a long, long time, that I have always
felt that the male and female situation and the black and white
situation were one in the same, almost. I mean, they worked just about
the same way. And you had just about as much trouble fighting. For
instance, there was a man working in my area, who was as busy as a bee
trying to undercut my situation, because he saw in it a danger to his
making it. At a time when I wasn't even thinking about it, never entered
my mind that I was even making it, except that I was satisfied with what
I was doing. Of course, the best thing that ever happened to me was I
liked what I was doing. I liked my job, and I enjoyed the things that I
learned about. I enjoyed it more and more. But, at the same time, there
was a man that was so busy where it was going to lead somewhere along
the line, that he had to be there so that he could just move right in.
He made every effort, and succeeded to some extent in turning a
department—the major part of a department—against the Treasurer's
office. Not me, personally, but the whole office. Nothing went on
Did any man ever flat confront you and say he wouldn't work for a woman?
Heck, no. He doesn't know to this day that I even know all of the things
that went on. And some of the girls who finally told me—and one of the
girls turned out to be one of the secretaries of my department, after
she had made quite an error in my department and expected me to explode,
and she didn't know what was going to happen. And I didn't do anything
but help her correct what she had done. After that, she broke down and
confessed to things that I never would have believed. She said, 'I'll
never forget you for the way you handled this.' So I said, 'What else
did you expect of me?' She said, 'Oh, I don't know. I just thought you
were going to raise all sort of sand, and then you were probably going
to try to get me fired, or something.' And I said, 'Wouldn't that have
been stupid?
Was there any other resentments? Men being reluctant to work for a woman?
No. I had no problem with it. Really, to tell you the truth, I think that
I had more potential resentment coming from the girls. Girls don't like
to work with women. Did you know that? I don't know whether they don't
like it, or whether they're afraid of them. Now this girl said to me—a
woman; she's almost as old as I was, but she isn't quite. This lady had
mis-sent a whole set of mortgage papers. Whatever she'd done, they were
gone. Now she expected me, I guess, to scream and tear paper and all
that sort of thing. And when she came in and told me about it, I sat
there a little while and then I said, 'Well, what can we do about it?' I
said, 'Always the lawyer makes a duplicate set of papers. So the
simplest thing to do is get in touch with the lawyer. If he made those
things. It was in South Carolina or someplace.' I said, 'Tell him
exactly what has happened. Tell him we're going to have to have a new
set of papers, and get him to get those him. I just
let it ride 'til he came to his senses. Because he had made mistakes. If
I had not been the person, he probably would not have gotten the job,
because he had made a few grave mistakes. Dumb, but the sort of thing
that can do you damage, I think, more than anything else. You will never
get so good and so smart that you can put your boss in any embarrassing
situation and get away with it. Because, even if he doesn't know it,
there's going to be another somebody over there who does know it. And
they're not going to forget it. So, when your name comes up, you'll say,
no, you can't tell what he'll do under given circumstances. And he made
a mistake like that. It didn't do him a bit of good. So sex didn't have
much to do with that. I don't think he ever knew that either. I never
did enlighten him. We're still very good friends.
In all of your experience with the life insurance industry as a whole, have you encountered any other woman who made it to the level you did? White or black.
Well, there were two or three women who were in their own organizations,
yes. There was a lady in Chicago, Mrs. Crosswaite. Now, I don't recall
what her
This was in a black company?
Yes.
Supreme Life?
No, I don't think it was Supreme. What else is in Chicago? Not the Metropolitan either.
Well, Victory grew into Supreme Life, didn't it? You got me.
And me, too. I should remember, because I knew all those people. This
other woman was in Philadelphia. As a matter of fact, I believe we've
taken that company over. I'm not sure about that either. If we have,
it's been in recent years. But she was an officer in that company. I
don't know what her official title was either. All of those things I
should know, but I don't remember them. But, the difference was: the
first thing, neither of the companies were anything of the size of North
Carolina Mutual—that's why I know it wasn't Supreme. So that makes one
difference. Then the other is, I don't think either of them, or anyone
that I know, was in the investment area. What I guess made mine more
unique than most was the fact that I was in the financial area. When I
retired, because of the change in our structure, I was Financial Vice
President for the North Carolina Mutual, which is unique from the
standpoint that you were in the area of investment program. I don't know
of any woman in that particular area. I think down in Florida, the
Afro-American, I think she was a daughter of Mr. Lewis. I think she
could have been in the investment area. And yet, it seems like to me, it
was his son. At any rate, there again, that company has not done too
well. So that would be the distinction, I would say. And the other thing
is, in the instances of these other women that I have named or know
about, their relationship put them more or less where they were, or
their investment in the company—they had some hold in the company,
something like that. Of course, with me, I was just
What about in any white companies. In your experience on Wall Street, did you ever run across a white woman?
Not in the insurance field, which doesn't mean a thing. Because my contact down there was purely financial.
[END OF TAPE 3, SIDE B]
[START OF TAPE 4, SIDE A]
I think I knew one girl; I can't think what company she was with. Then I knew a woman in Greensboro, here, Julia Lunsford who was in a brokerage business in one of the companies here. But I just came along at a time when it was very unique for us. For blacks and for a woman.
Don't let me forget now, I want to ask you about women working in the field. But now, while I'm thinking about it, since this is obviously very exceptional. As you look back on it, do you think that you had to work twice as hard—and maybe we should say four times as hard—to get to where you did? That is, the old idea that you have to work twice as hard because you're black, and you're a black woman?
Yes, I think so.
Were you conscious of the double burden there, being black and female?
I don't suppose you ever thought of it as a burden. But I'll say this,
and I used to say it particularly whenever I was talking to young people
and kids as students, that any woman has to work twice as hard as any
man to make it in the business world. There's no question about that.
This was my speech, part of it, a little bit of it: You take students in
business school. The girl goes in and the first blooming thing she picks
up is a notebook and a pencil and starts learning shorthand. Shorthand
and then the typewriter. The guy learns about the typewriter.
Were you primarily the one reading it?
I'm sure I was doing most of the reading. And, of course, Mr. Merritt was
encouraging me, 'That's fine honey. You just go right up.' But, of
course, as I said, I always had John Wheeler to fall back on if things
were a little bit above my head, in the beginning. And, of course, I
always had Mr. Evans to fall back on. Then, in a little while, Joe
Sanson came into the bank, and I knew him. He was the person who got all
the work papers for me to learn how to do schedules and that sort of
thing. But, it was a learning process. In the meantime, the company was
in a learning process, too. Because, I recall among the first letters
that we received from Moody's when they were making recommendations to
us for purchasing. And they had something like twenty thousand of this,
twenty thousand of this, twenty thousand of this. Maybe altogether—and
this may not be exactly accurate, but it gives you an idea—they were
recommending a purchase of a hundred thousand dollars of securities.
Probably that was in five different blocks. We had our committee
meeting. And of course I sat in on all the meetings simply because I was
secretary at that time. I was not a member of the committee. Mr.
MacDougal was on the committee, Mr. Merritt, and Mr. Wheeler. I think
that was the committee. There may have been another member. But anyhow,
I read off these things to them. Oh, you never saw such frowning. We
couldn't put that much money out, you know, like that. So it was cut
back to ten of this and ten of that, and something like that. And then
it wasn't, I would say,
You're doing this reading and gaining this expertise
Oh, yes. Just one thing right behind the other, you know. You learn a little, and you're doing a little all the time. But we didn't get into a whole lot of purchasing at one time. See, the company didn't make all of the money in that first year, or the second year. You were making enough but it wasn't so large that I couldn't handle it. And, you see, not too long after we got into the market—I think I mentioned this to you—a couple of sales people walked in, not knowing what they were walking into, and then discovered it was a black company. Maybe that was a year after we'd been in. Any rate, we'd begun to have a portfolio that you could look at. It was an acceptable portfolio, the quality of it was. And then, they made that discovery, and then a black woman that can talk their language. At least she knows what they're talking about, and in talking to them she uses the same terminology, well, boy, that's more than they can believe. So they fly back to New York and start getting the word around. And it was no time at all before I did nothing but talk on the telephone all day long. Miss Turner this, Miss Turner that.
They were curious about you as a black woman?
Oh, sure. It was pure gossip. After I got to the place where I knew the
Street pretty well, and there were some people that we became really
good friends, and we talk and talk about anything, oh, I found out that
were just as gossipy as they could be. No small town in the South can be
more gossipy than Wall Street. This is many years later and we've
started having classes in the office,
You think that because you were seen as special? That if a man had called up, he wouldn't have gotten that same kind of response?
Oh, no. I think they would have gotten it except for one thing. I don't
know this. And, again, I could be wrong. I don't think too many men
would
Were there cases, though, where you know, but thought, because you were a woman, you shouldn't again appear perhaps as smart as you were?
No. I never pulled that on anybody. No, when I called, I wanted
information. But if I had ever had the feeling that it was not willingly
given, that might have made me draw back. I met some fine people, and we
really became friends. I even have held onto those friends, and hope I
always will, even with their families. Some of the wives and children.
In instances I still have those contacts. Even where the husbands have
died. I got a Easter card from one of the widows this week. We've just
kept in touch. They were lovely people. And apparently they liked me.
Many of them have been here to the house, who came to know my husband.
One of the nicest things that I think has happened to me like that: when
Pops died, I got one of the loveliest letters from one of the salesmen,
whom I had known here. He was with Adams and Peck. We didn't ever do
very much business with this company. It was a railroad company and we
didn't
If you're exceptional at this level, there seem to be a lot of women working in the field as agents. I've always wondered if that was true in white companies as well. It's hard to get the information way back in that period. Do you have any knowledge of that?
I don't think I ever knew. . .now, wait a minute. . .
You just don't think of a white industrial insurance saleswoman.
Well, that. I can still say I never knew of that. In recent years—when I
say recent years: in the last, say, ten or fifteen years—I have known of
one or two women who sold the insurance. But I'll have to get back in my
mind where they made their contact. One, I know, is
with a travel agency. I know that. But the other one will have to come
to me. But, going back to industrial insurance, I never came in contact
with that. And I don't think black women started selling any kind of
insurance until, well, much later than when people were selling
insurance. When I was growing up, there was no such thing. At that time,
you used
When you were in Mississippi, Oklahoma, and Arkansas, and working for the Mutual, were there black women agents then?
It seems like to me, maybe in Oklahoma. No. I don't think when I left there, there were any women agents. Let's see now, if I can get out of the twenties. There wasn't a woman agent in Alabama when I was there. There wasn't a woman agent in Clarksdale, no. They must have started, more or less, probably in the thirties. Maybe kind of late in the thirties? I don't know. I really don't know that. I know that they had become quite active, and they had been doing it a good long time. Because we had a million dollar producer in certainly in the fifties.
There was woman from Philadelphia even in the forties. A woman named Essie Thomas? Was that her name?
Essie Thomas?
I think Essie Thomas. I believe, in Philadelphia. Now that was in the forties.
You're right! That was in the forties. I'm just thinking the first time I
went to California, it was either the late forties or early fifties, and
on that train—I can't remember the name—but I'm sure it's the same
woman. There was a little lady in our group who started having problems
with a pain in her arm on that trip. She went back to, I'm sure that was
Philadelphia. And in less time than a year she was dead. Evidently it
was some indication of cancer of some kind. Thomas doesn't quite ring
the bell, but that doesn't mean that it
Let me ask you about one other woman, while we're pursuing this. I think it was the Saunders that rang the bell. Ethel Berry?
Oh, yes. Ethel was Mr. Spaulding's secretary.
Her maiden name was Saunders, was it?
Yes.
I read a good deal of that correspondance.
Is that right?
I suspect that just as you wrote Mr. Merritt's letters, she wrote his, and he signed them. Can you tell me a little bit about her? She always intrigued me.
Well, she was an interesting little thing. She was about as big as a
minute. She was not as tall as I am, and nothing like as heavy as I am.
She was probably even smaller than Rose, if you remember her. And she's
smaller than I am. She was a little thing. She was a funny little thing,
too. Her family originally came from Charleston, South Carolina. But her
mother evidentally became widowed quite early and she had several
children. At least four girls and a couple of boys; and there may have
been more. Those are the ones I remember. Because one sister—Ethel and
one of her sisters—came to Durham first. The sister to teach at the
college and Ethel as secretary. That was how I learned about some of
them. But any rate, they went to Boston. That's where she grew up. I
don't know how she came to Durham, unless it was due that the
[END OF TAPE 4, SIDE A]
[START OF TAPE 4, SIDE B]
No, you know, I couldn't last too long before she had to make explanations of why she did those things. She didn't get excited about Valentine's or Easter, or Mother's Day, or any holiday, that sort of thing. So one of these days I really pressured her about the presents. I said, 'I'm not ever going to give you anything else unless you appreciate them.' And her explanation was, 'I know I seem strange. The only reason the tree is there, I'm trying to do something about it, you know, appreciate Christmas and this kind of spirit of Christmas, and the fun that can be had.' She said, 'But I can't get into it. You know, when I was growing up, my mother had all of us. And she had to take care of us and her mind was only fixed on two things: keeping you sheltered and feeding you. We never celebrated anything. We never had parties or gave presents and all that sort of thing. I just can't get into it. I put them down there, and I intend to open them, and I will, and I will appreciate them. But just to open them for Christmas just doesn't make any sense to me.' Isn't that odd and strange?
Was she kind of the woman behind the man in the case of C.C. Spaulding?
No. No.
You wouldn't see Ethel Berry, then, as a professional woman who might have done something more, had she not been a woman. She was held back?
I don't think so. And yet, how do you know? Because if I'd looked at me, I'd have said the same thing. I don't think so. The only reason I would make a statement like that, that I probably wouldn't make about several other girls I think of in the building: Ethel never struck me that she was interested in doing anything but getting that job done, and done well. She was not slack in her work. She was not disinterested. She wanted Mr. Spaulding's best foot put forward at all times. But my guess would be—and I don't think we ever reached that point—that, when the time came to retire, she would be one of the folks looking forward to it. And maybe start looking forward to it much earlier than sixty. I never got the impression that she even wanted anything more. Now, she may have. How can you tell? She had a sister who was quite ambitious, and I knew about her from Ethel. But nothing that Ethel ever said herself, she never gave you anything that made you think that she really would love to be doing something more than she was doing.
One other question that women might be interested in, and that is this Clerk's Home. Tell me about your coming to Durham and living in the Clerk's Home and your first impressions of this whole set.
Well, I didn't live in the Clerk's Home at first. I lived with the Coxes.
I came straight here and lived at the Coxes. But at that time, the Coxes
were living right across the street from the Clerk's Home. The Clerk's
Home was a two-story house, in the back of a little—the best way I could
describe it, I think, what they call a little gunshot house, you know,
one long thing. And it was a dining room for the Clerk's Home. The only
impression that
Did he begin the Clerk's Home? Do you know the origins of it?
I can't imagine that anybody else did. You see, almost from the beginning there was C.C. Spaulding. Let's see when did John Merritt die?
He died in 1919.
They may have had the Clerk's Home then. So maybe the three of them. If so, it was a joint thing.
For women only, right?
Oh, yes. Only the girls who worked at the Mutual. And down the street and up the street, there were houses like that for teachers who came here to teach, that Professor Pearson had. So, you see, it was a general idea, probably, that the young women who came into Durham had to be properly housed. So, I'm sure they were in perfect harmony with that was the way it was done. Because there was one down below the Mutual's Clerk's Home and up the street there was one. And they were for the teachers who came to Durham to teach. I don't recall that they had eating facilities in those teachers' homes, and maybe they ate in the schools, I don't know. But they had this little place out there, a kitchen and dining room, for the Clerk's Home.
This was to protect young single women?
I have an idea that was it; knowing the men of that day, I feel quite
sure that that was the idea. Plus the fact that there was no other
facility for them. Where else were they going to live. If they were from
out of town. And, you see, most of the people who came in to Durham were
from out of town. In the Clerk's Home, when I first came there, there
were some Virginians, and Betty's from Baltimore.
You moved in there? You moved from the Coxes into the Clerk's Home?
Oh, no. I lived in the Clerk's Home after I had had an unhappy marriage
with Lawyer Thompson. I had been living with the Coxes—I'll have to get
these things straight when I go back like that. Yes. When I left Lawyer
Thompson, I went on vacation. I had told the people at the Mutual that
when I got on vacation and came back here, I was not going to my former
residence. And I would like to know
As a side light, you had two marriages from the time you left Mississippi.
From '20 to '27, yes.
Now Mr. Taylor, he worked for the Mutual?
Yes, that's how I happened to meet him. The brought him to Jackson just
about the time I came to Jackson. In a way, I was getting away from
home, because the young man that I was liking very much had come by to
see my father and asked for my hand in marriage and my father told us to
wait a year. And so that was why I took the job in Mississippi, because
he would not give consent. I don't know whether he was going to give
consent or not. He just said to wait and year and come back. So I went
to Mississippi, and that's where I met Taylor. He came up to work for
North Carolina Mutual. And our offices joined. The Department for
Education and the North Carolina Mutual offices were right there
together. So, I guess love was in bloom and I was young and I thought
everything was wonderful in the world. So that's what happened. So we
So you and he worked together out of an agency in Oklahoma.
Yes, we worked for North Carolina Mutual and set up an office in Oklahoma City, that's right.
And that would have been roughly from '20 to?
'23. Am I right? Yes, into '23. Because I came here in '24. And between
Oklahoma City, where I left Taylor—no. He was transferred from Oklahoma
City. Now, we've got it straight. To Alabama. That's how I got to
Alabama. And I went with him to Alabama. But in Alabama, I left him. I
had written to Tulsa, Oklahoma, where there was a law firm that I knew
about when I was in Oklahoma City. So, when I decided that I was going
to leave Taylor, I wrote to this law firm and made application for a
job. And I got acceptance on the basis that I was willing to accept the
job, and if I was satisfactory. They were going to offer me one amount
of money. I don't remember what it was, but better than anything I had.
And if, after thirty days, I proved satisfactory, they would raise that
amount considerably from what they were offering originally. Since they
didn't know anything about my status, getting away was what I was after.
So I would have taken anything they offered me. But, because I had been
working in the district office there, I felt I could not leave and go
straight to Oklahoma. So, instead, I left and went to Jackson,
Mississippi, to tell Mr. Cox that I was leaving the Montgomery office,
and to tell him the shape I had left it in. And that I was not
travelling on any of the North Carolina Mutual's money. But I was on my
way to Oklahoma where I had a job. I ended up in Clarksdale, Mississippi
because he says, 'I don't have anything to do with your personal life.
If you've made up your mind that you're going, I'm not going to do
anything about that. But I'm not going to see you go out to Oklahoma
when we need somebody right here.' So he took me to Clarksdale,
Mississippi. So that's how I got there.
Then you me Lawyer Thompson when you came to Durham.
Yes. Yes, I did.
Was this another romance, love at first sight?
No. I don't know what Tommy thought of me. I guess he thought he loved me. But I think, really, when I look back on it now, for him, I was a novelty. I didn't fall head over heels and turn flip-flops about him.
Where was he educated? Where was he from?
Do you have your tape on?
This is going to be very intriguing.
I'm not going to answer that question if your tape is on.
All right, just go ahead. You don't have to tell me where he's from.
Oh, I don't mind telling you where he's from. But that question you asked
about where he was educated
He was a lawyer?
Oh, yes. He was a lawyer. And he got his law degree from Howard. But
anyhow, I think I was unique because apparently he had—probably always,
and certainly since he'd been an attorney—a lot of girls who'd just fall
on their face about him. Because he was truly—though I was never able to
quite understand—he was truly a lady's man. And he had whole lots of
girls. And they all seemed to have been very, very much in love with
him. All expecting matrimony. And I
Were you down on men, in general, at this point?
No. Not really. Just wasn't enthusiastic. I always had had boyfriends.
There was always somebody in my life who was an interest.Right then,
when I came here, I met a very lovely person, a person that I probably
could have liked, had our friendship been of any duration to amount to
anything. But he came into Little Rock very shortly before I was
leaving. And, as a matter fact, left with me. We travelled from Little
Rock to Atlanta, I believe—Memphis or Atlanta—because he was from
Charleston, South Carolina. He was coming to North Carolina. And, of all
of the people that I had met, he was the person that I felt I could have
liked a great deal more than I did. And certainly a whole lot more than
I did Lawyer Thompson. But it was a short relation, and he went his way
and I went mine. He had finished his pharmacist, and then had decided
that he wanted to be a dentist and he was back in dental school, and was
either a junior or senior at that time. I believe it was the senior
year. But any rate, I came here, not disliking men generally, but not
looking for a husband either. But Tommy just kept on and kept on and
kept on, until finally I just broke down and said, 'OK. It's a nice
state. I just didn't do too well the first time. It'll be all right.'
Sort of like that. I don't mean it was quite as drab as that sounds, but
I mean, there was no real emotional work-up
Was there ever any conflict over your working and your professional interests?
No, none whatsoever. He was quite happy. I was paying more of the bills.
There was no conflict there. Our character was different. I shouldn't
say this, and yet it's the truth: I'm not much of a liar, and he was a
profound liar. And you'd be surprised how hard it is if you can't lie
and don't like liars, to live with liars.
I remember the first trip we took together. First little Ford, all we could afford to have, but we had a little Ford. Not a Runabout or Sedan, I don't know.
Model T, was it?
It wasn't the high Model T. It was the next thing. I said it looked
So you found yourself in the Clerk's Home after that?
Yes.
That would have been when? Early thirties?
That was in twenty-seven, or eight, or nine. Somewhere in there. We
didn't get to the thirties. Because we were together about three years.
And I have an idea—though I couldn't positively say this is true-but I
would think we probably married in '25. It wasn't a long courtship. If
it had been a little longer, probably we would have escaped it
Was it when you first came to Durham, or was it when you were in the Clerk's Home when you had this run-in with C.C. Spaulding about the . . . .
[END OF TAPE 4, SIDE B]
[START OF TAPE 5, SIDE A]
Oh, he ran your life if he could.
You didn't wear them again?
I didn't ever take them off. Oh, no indeed. He didn't ever open his mouth
to me himself. But he'd gone to the boss and told him. No, I never
stopped doing anything I ever was doing because of the Mutual. The only
thing I ever did: one day I went to the office in a red dress. The dress
wasn't fancy or anything, but it was red. And Poppa met me in the hall
and informed me that I couldn't come up there dressed like that. He
proceeded to tell me that my dress was not proper for the office. So, at
that time I had not learned my lesson from Mr. Bob McKentz Andrews, for
which I thank him. I had a temper and didn't try to control it. I could
get hot like that. He told me I couldn't so I just walked right in the
office and got my little hat and got on the elevator. I was on my way
home. When I got downstairs Mr. Merritt was walking in the door, and he
says, 'Where you going, honey?' 'I'm going home.' 'What are you going
home for? Something wrong?' So I said, 'Yes.' He wanted to know what was
wrong so I told him what Mr. Spaulding had told me. And I said, 'Mr.
Spaulding can't tell me what to wear. If he thinks he going to do it, he
can get him somebody else
When you first hit Durham, did you see it as a kind of stifling atmosphere then?
Oh! I was leaving every. . .the first year I was here, I was leaving every month, and then for the next six or seven years, I was leaving every year. I had never lived in a place so small. They had nothing that I'd been accustomed to. Even my home town, Macon, was an old city with wide, lovely streets down the middle of the city, with beautiful stores on both sides. And your pasttime, when I was a child, your mother and father would walk on Sunday evenings to show-window shop, as we called it. Looking in the different store windows. That's when I was growing up as a kid. And that was still the thing that you would do in Little Rock. My boyfriend and I would go downtown in Little Rock and look in the pretty stores and shops, just like you walk on Fifth Avenue. And I get to Durham. They've got two blocks, about two stores. Oh! I didn't think there was any way I could survive in Durham. I didn't like nothing about Durham.
Was there a kind of aura of what E. Franklin Frasier talks about Durham as being different from other cities where there was a middle class, because it had this old, Puritanical middle class. Was he right about that? Could you pick that up?
Well, I didn't then. Probably it was a long time before I did, because
all I reacted to was the physical Durham. Nowhere to walk, nothing to
see, nothing pretty. The streets were funny and cut up. My whole
reaction was purely a physical thing from a certain type of city life.
Even Jackson, Mississippi was a pretty, Southern town. I hadn't been
anywhere but Southern towns, so that was my idea of beauty. And this was
horrible. But I can understand what he's talking about because, you see,
the mainstays of this town, black and well into the white group, too—I
think I'm correct about that. They were a church-going people.
So when you travel, say, to a Washington, D.C., or a place like that, did it seem to be an altogether different world?
From the things that you found here?
Yes.
I would think so. Of course my first shock, going from here to New York,
was my first trip. By way of Philadelphia. I stopped in Philadelphia.
In Philadelphia?
That's right, Philadelphia. I nearly collapsed. I thought I was free at last, as soon as I passed Washington.
What year would that have been?
That would have been in the twenties—'26, '27, '28. That was on that trip
that I took in the Ford with Lawyer Thompson, and we stopped in
Philadelphia for a couple of days and nights. There was no theatre
there, according to all that we were told—of course, you know that I was
asking when I got the first
What about the hotel?
Well, we didn't try that. I only started going to the hotels when I was
traveling on my own, after I'd left Lawyer Thompson. I believe I'm one
of the first people here—certainly in any group that I knew anything
about—that tried a hotel. I don't know whether any other would have been
just the same. I tried the Victoria. I tried the Victoria simply because
of its address. It was right down there in the theatrical area. And that
was after I became familiar with New York to some extent. I was going
for the company. But just like everybody else, as soon as it was
vacation time, I was going to New York. So, on my own, I was trying this
hotel. They accepted me and I had no problems there. It was on
You never had any trouble in New York with shows or hotels?
No. I never had any trouble with anything there. I don't think that means
that you couldn't have had trouble. You see, when I first started going
on my own, that's when I started experimenting. You know, going to see
what sort of treatment I would get. If I was going to get it, I would
walk out. If I wasn't going to be served properly, I wouldn't stay, you
know, that sort of thing. But then, after all, that was a little later.
I probably first started going in the thirties. And many of the times—a
couple of times, at least—I was going to a black hotel. Well, longer
than that: in the forties. There was a nice black hotel in Harlem, the
Theresa. And that's when I first started going. I would go up there if I
was with anybody. But my first time at the Victoria, I was going alone.
I was afraid to be up that far alone, when I knew I was going to spend
all my time down in the theatrical section. So I chose to go to the
Victoria. So, when I got back, boy, I really built up the Victoria. I'm
sure they don't know it. And yes, they did, too, because they began to
get reservations from Durham. That was the first one. Now, there were
other hotels where some of our men have gone to, and had no trouble.
Like the hotel down near the Pennsylvania Station, or was in there. Mr.
Spaulding used to go there. One or two other hotels, now, I don't
remember the names. But, the men used to go to places like that and they
didn't seem to have any trouble. I don't think they did.
. . .
You don't have any idea where they are now, those letters?
No. I know what happened to the house and all that sort of thing. But I don't know whether they were just destroyed in the passing of the family, or not. They probably were. I imagine they were taken out of their original home and taken down to the sister who was still living. But when she died, I don't know what happened there.
. . .served on jury duty.
But we went down just to see, Turner, then, lawyer, I guess he was. And
we were thrilled to death with his appearance and his polish and his
education, his training, and the way he handled himself in the court.
And, you see, at that time, and for many years after, most of the black
attorneys were not accorded the respect that they were entitled to. They
would be called by their names. No 'lawyer' this, or 'attorney' that, or
anything of the kind. This
Did a lot of people in the black community turn out for this?
Oh! The little courthosue was packed. And most of us were there.
This is the Holcutt Case, 1933, I think?
Yes, it was somewhere in those days; it was early.
Do you remember any of the background of it?
No, not really. Nothing more than like every other black in the community. You were proud that he had had the courage to make the application to attempt to enter. You were proud to feel that you were a part, even if it was nothing more than contributing to the NAACP, for the fight that we waged. Then, of course, you followed it prayerfully all the time. You know, of the outcome. Then, of course, when Judge Hastie got here, that was the topping on the cake. Because there were few of us—not only young people like myself, and those of us who were younger people—who had seen a man like Hastie representing us in a situation. Not only in that particular situation, but in the courts, carrying himself and accounting himself is such a dignified and marvelous manner. He ignored all of anything anybody tried to use as a put-down, you know. And he could do it with such grace, that I'm sure most of them didn't even realize what had happened to them, except that they had not been able to get a rise out of the man. Yet, he handled himself so cooly and so smoothly, they would capitulate without even knowing they had done that almost. It really was about as smooth a thing as I've ever seen. And so natural for him. There was nothing about him that made you feel he was putting on an act. He could've been, but you had no feeling of it. You just felt it was the most natural and normal way of life for him. Of course, us younger women, we were just drooling, worshipping at his feet. And in that sort of respectful, you know, oh! he's one of us; he belongs to us; you can't take that away from none of us. That sort of feeling, pride.
That was the victory, just his being there?
Oh, yes, yes. And then, those gentlemen sitting there getting red-faced
Was Dr. Shepard there, do you recall?
No. I don't recall if he was there. He could've been, but I don't know
that. You see, we went after working hours. We would go from work, on by
the courthouse, and they would still be in session, that sort of thing.
So, usually when we were there, or when I was there, you were there with
your peers, and any other workers near your age-group, or in your same
organization. Because, at that time, Bankers
Do you think that anybody really believed or dreamed that, in fact, the case would be won and Holcutt would actually be admitted to the University of North Carolina?
Well, I'll put it this way. I have an idea that most of us who sat there
and saw Hastie and admired him as we did, probably couldn't conceive of
him losing. You see, we probably lost all sight of all of the
discrimination that was back of that, that he was really up against. We
were so thrilled. You were seeing something that you'd never seen
before. I'd never seen such a polished,
Incidentally one is the woman who ran our cafeteria. But hers was acquired through exposure. She had worked with wealthy whites all of her working life. And all of her life, virtually, had been a working life.
She was a caterer?
In the end, that's really what she was. But she ran our cafeteria for years. Now, when she came out from there, I guess she would never call herself a caterer because she didn't perform in all of the capacities of a caterer—of getting the foods, and getting all the stuff together. But everybody in town—white and black—who were going to have a party of any consequence, where they were expecting to spend money, and wanted to, because the occasion was of that nature, called on her to see if they could get her to prepare their dinner, or their party, or their service. And she had all of the know-how in the world. Then, on her own, she was a woman who dressed in excellent taste. Everything just right for a woman of her age, and her size. And her home was exquisite in taste. Because, first thing, she had some pieces in there, lovely pieces in there, that only could have come from some very wealthy place. Many of the people she had worked with gave her lovely things. And she had any number of just lovely pieces of bric 'n brac and things of that kind, in her little home. And her home was immaculate, tastefully done, and quality in the choice of what she had. Just good taste and style and quality.
What was her name?
Hettie Meadows. Ran the cafeteria.
But Hastie was something else. He had the education?
Oh, he had everything. You see, he had the sort of thing that even the
men that we knew, who had arrived, and who had money and were doing very
well—I can't think of any one who had all of things as Hastie. Now, they
had something similarly in the class, of Hastie. The
people who had had this exposure to wealthy whites and had really just
adopted, not knowing or intentionally, just absorbed. And they just
naturally had certain graces. They had manners that I wish many of us
had today. And they had style. And they knew a lot of things. They were
exposed to a lot of things. They could tell many of us who came out of
school—and I don't mean at my level, but all the levels. Hettie Meadows
could tell every person that I knew something about gracious living. And
she could do it, and she could do it with grace. And John Merritt was
the same sort of man. His family lived well and graciously. And I'm
quite sure it was from his exposure. 'Course he had the money to follow
through and do what he wanted to do.
You say there was a feeling that Hastie couldn't have lost, but when the case was lost, was there any feeling against Dr. Shepard? Was it generally considered that Dr. Shepard hadn't been too keen on this?
I don't know. At that time, I was too low down on the scale to get the
feeling of the people up at that level, so I don't know at all. I never
even heard of him connected with the Holcutt Case in any way. All that I
know of that is my own emotional involvement: the pride and the hopes.
Of course, there was the pride of the boy who had had the nerve to do
it, you know. Because, after all that took some nerve also, you know.
You had to admire that. And you lived along that thing—those of us of my
age—we lived right into it as if we were part of it.
You reminded me of a couple of things when you were talking about men not getting the respect and being called by their first names. When you worked as E.R. Merritt's secretary, and white men would come in, there are some things there worth telling.
Oh, yes. I can tell you stories about that. That's where we coined our
expression, well, 'he's now got religion' or 'doesn't have religion', or
'there's no hope for him,' or 'we'll get him sooner or later.' There
were three girls across there. Occasionally there were four. But three
of us were there all of the time. And there were no switchboard
operations. Each of us had two or three telephones. One was the outside
telephone and then we had a system. I've forgotten what you call the
system, but it went all through the offices. And you could call on the
inside phone to the next office and tell somebody that they had a call.
But there was no phone up there for them. You'd just have to take the
number and they'd call when they could. Or, in an emergency, you could
call them down to get them. That meant that we answered all of the
telephones, just those three places. And we acted as the guides for
anybody going through the building. Some of us, one, two, or maybe all
of us, took people through the building. And then we were the buffer. We
were the receptionists for the whole building, really. Everybody stopped
at the third floor. And you either held them there and made
Well, we had a standard act; all three of us did the same thing. 'Good
morning, may I help you?' 'Yes. Is Ed in?' 'Ed? Ed? Um, I don't know an
Ed. Ed, did you say?' 'Merritt, Ed Merritt.' 'Oh! Mr. Merritt, you mean.
Well, let me see.' And you'd get up. And, of course, at the time, my
office was not right through to Mr. Merritt's. I'm at this little
office; you have to walk around. So I say, 'Just have a seat out here.
I'll see for you.' So I walk in and I come back out. 'Mr. Merritt is in,
but he's very busy just now and he will not be able to see you for the
next thirty minutes. Would you care to wait? Shall I tell Mr. Merritt
that you will wait?' Some way or other you'd get another 'Mr. Merritt'
in. Have to get three or four in. 'Shall I tell Mr. Merritt you will
wait, or will you come back?' Well, sometimes they would wait and
sometimes they would say they would come back. So, on departing, always
you ended—and all of us did—'Well, you say you will be back. I'll tell
Mr. Merritt you will be back.' Well, they're sick of you by the time
you've said two of these Merritt's or whatever you're saying. But we all
would go through that same thing. If they said John, or they said
Charlie, or they said Ed. Sometimes some of the girls wouldn't carry it
as far as I would and pretend never been a preacher.' And then we
started to snicker, 'Imagine! Mr. Merritt a preacher! Ha, Ha!' So we
laughed the poor man right on up and down the street, because Mr.
Merritt wasn't there. He didn't see him. I even remember that rascal's
name, Couch. He was a long time coming back.
Then the other thing we'd do to them, and this is the religious act. You
know a few of them got to the place, I'm sure through the NAACP and
hearing it from different ones of the men at different areas or places.
They had heard that we were pretty sick of the fact that if you got on
the elevator and they were on there, the hat stayed right on. But if you
were going to, say, the sixth floor, and about the fourth floor a white
woman got on, off came the hats. And then if the lady got off on the
next floor, and the two of you were going to the next, the hat went
right back on the head. We all had talked about that and complained
about it. I guess the word had sort of gotten around. So you got to the
place where you get on the elevator and the guy would have his hat on
and he would reach up. He couldn't bring himself to pull it off, so he
held it hanging here while he scratched his head. He scratched his head
until you got off or he got off. Well, you see, that was funny. But you
were mad, too. So you had to do something about it. And they got to the
place they'd get off on the third floor. See, they had to stop at the
third floor to get to anything else. And they would come down the little
hall from the elevator going over to the president's office, or the
other two offices, with this hat up here and, you know, one of these
sort of things. And, of course, when they got to you, 'Oh! Will you rest
your hat?'
These were not just salesmen?
Oh, they were salesmen of a kind in some cases. Everybody who came into our office, white, were salesmen. They wanted something out of us. It might not be they had something in a briefcase they were going to sell you right there. But they either had a store in the town, or they had something that they wanted out of somebody over there. That's what they were doing over there.
What about some of the white fathers? You mentioned Victor Bryant.
Well, now all right. That's a prize example. He wanted something out of
us. He wanted our money. And he was getting our money. Because, for a
long while, we had him on a retainer. Because we didn't have enough
clout not to need a white lawyer along with. Some cases we could do on
our own. We felt we had the folks who could do it all. But we didn't
have the clout. So he was on the payroll. And he was one of the ones we
had to help get religion on that hat business. Oh, he used to walk
through that office. He'd get off the elevator. He neither looked right
nor left to me over on this side. He walked right straight towards
Ethel's desk and he got right there and swerved from her desk, 'Is
Charlie in?', opening the door at the same time. Oh yes. As if she
didn't exist. Well that burned. It burned me up. I guess I burned over
that more than the other girls, although it's very hard to make a
distinction. But I burned on it, I think, more, for the first thing:
very shortly after I came to Durham, it was nothing for him to call from
over at his office and tell them he needed some secretarial help over
there. And many's the time I was sent over there, and took a lot of his
durn work. It was work he was going to do for North Carolina Mutual. But
I did all of that typing. Everything that
He finally went to the legislature. And I always felt that when he became
really politically minded—and we, in the meantime, are getting more
political strength. I have an idea that that influenced him to take
another look at blacks a little
Some sort of gift?
Yes. Some token of some kind. Usually some gift out of one of the bookstores or places here where you could pick up things. Maybe a briefcase. One of those sort of things. Gifts. Now, I resented that. And I'm sure all of us secretaries who could see that happening and going on. We didn't like it. But we couldn't do nothing about it. So, on this occasion, when they came, Mr. Spaulding was going to give them a dinner. I don't remember any of the details as to why he had decided on a dinner, or what. It may have been there were some new examiners from a new state that we had gone into, and he wanted to show some special courtesy to them. But to do that, he couldn't give them a dinner at any black place that you might have had. So the only place that he could give them this dinner was out at the Club, the white club that's here—I've forgotten the name of it. It used to be out there near Club Boulevard, right in that area. But any rate, he was going to be prepared. He decided to give this dinner, and attorney Bryant, as our legal representative, was asked to host the dinner. And he accepted the invitation. And the dinner took place. But after that, Mr. Bryant came to Mr. Spaulding and told him that that was the most embarrassing experience he had ever had. That the full force of discrimination hit him in the face at that dinner. He sat there and realized that he was the host to this group of people for the North Carolina Mutual, and the president, Mr. Spaulding, could not be presented. It was the first time that the full import of that sort of thing came, really, to him, full face.
How did Mr. Spaulding, himself, handle that kind of thing? How did he keep from getting angry?
I imagine within him he probably did get angry, and possibly he felt that it was a thing that had to be done. I don't know why he did. I'm just trying to figure how he must have reacted. Because there's no way for me to feel any of that, that had to be done. But evidentally he felt that the good will, and maybe you were at the mercy of those examiners, I don't know.
Well, he had a way—and I guess that's another reason I didn't care for
him—I really distrusted him as much as anything else. I didn't feel like
he gave us. . . I mean, he'd just wipe over anything. If you had put two
and two together there and come up with five, oh, he wouldn't have said
anything about it. He'd just say, 'Oh, that was just error,' and go on.
You want an examination to tell you what you're doing wrong, so you can
get straightened out. So that's how I distrusted him. He was so gay and
full of stories, and always some joke. And he was always walking by Miss
Bessie's window, 'Bessie, have you heard this one?' Well, that's the one
place on which Miss Bessie and I parted company. I didn't accept nobody
getting familiar with me unless you were my friend and I was your friend
and you were on a first-name basis. And there were people that I did
like well enough, and we were on a first-name basis. But it had to be
one of those things. So I always sort of resented the way Miss Bessie
let anybody walk up there and call her 'Bessie.' Bessie this and Bessie
that. So every time they came to examine the company, Mr. Merritt would
always come out of his office. He had the largest office on the third
floor. And he would go into some little office. Of course, it didn't
disturb me, because I sat over in an office from that. But I didn't like
the idea that Mr. Merritt was always giving up his office. But anyhow,
that was happening. So, day in and day out they're coming in. am I going to do? So I come home and I'm worried sick. Because I
know I cannot take it. I also don't know how is the best way to handle
it— with an examiner for the North Carolina Mutual being involved. I
wrestled with it for most of the night. When I got up the next morning,
I knew perfectly well what I was going to do. So I got right up and I
got a piece of paper and I wrote him a note. I said, 'Dear Mr.
So for a couple of days he didn't speak to me at all, which, of course,
was delightful. He just would pass and wouldn't speak. And the thing
that really surprised me, but very pleasantly: Mr. Kelly didn't ever
stop calling me when he wanted to have a letter done for him. And always
in the same nice manner, 'Do you have time? Do you think you could get a
letter off for me to the department, sometime during the day?' I'd say,
'Of course, I'd be happy to, anytime.' And so the relationship was the
same all the way except for old
How did you get involved with the threat to report to the Klan?
Oh! That was just one of those things with the dear old South. There was
a lady that I understand she was one of the more well-to-do families for
some time in Durham. They had hit upon hard times. And that had
necessitated her to doing some work for a living. What she was doing was
collecting bills for one of the companies. Maybe for several of the
companies, I don't know. But she came up one day. And Eula—you've heard
us talking about Eula—Eula is this friend of mine who's very, very, very
fair. There's no way to just say Eula's fair. She's just too white, and
with this sort of auburn hair, too straight, too stringy. She has to
wash it certainly not later than every week, for it to fluff out. Well,
anyhow, Eula and I were in the same office—her desk right at the door of
Mr. Avery whom she was working for, and mine was over here, for Mr.
Merritt, whose office was next door. And this woman came in, and of
course we didn't know the half of the background of who she was, or why
she probably had an attitude to start with, with the very idea she was
working. And then she had to come into a Negro business and
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[END OF TAPE 5, SIDE A]
[START OF TAPE 6, SIDE A]
She thought it was right here. So finally either you or I—I don't know
which of us at that time—said, 'Are you talking about Mr. Avery?
Avery?'; And she said, 'Yes.' And all of this time she is acting
indignant, very impatient. And I'm joining in, asking who she's talking
about, and Eula. So when we finally get together that she is talking
about Mr. Avery, Eula ushers her in. Well, now, at that point, so far as
I know, I was innocent as a new born child. I hadn't done a living thing
to the lady, nor had Eula. We were confused on who she wanted, and I
don't think either of us acted in such a way that we added to her
indignation. But evidently her whole attitude was resentment that she
was there at that particular place, doing that particular thing. So
that's when she walked out. She walked right up to Eula and she says,
'What is your name?' Eula looked up at her and said, 'Miss Wade', you
know. I'm sitting over in the corner, and I am so sure that the woman is
shocked at Eula putting that prefix 'Miss' to it, you know, instead of
saying, 'Mary', or 'Sally', or 'Sue'. When Eula said, 'Miss Wade', I
said 'Hmph!' Just about like that: 'Hmph!' That woman wheeled out of
that. I guess like the madam in the old days,
In talking about the Klan, were you at the Mutual building in the twenties when the Klan got upset because white women were coming in to train black women, or black clerks, on a new kind of dictophone or something?
It's possible, and yet I don't remember that incident. But, I'm wondering if it was the mail-o-meter. Because I remember a white woman who used to come up from Atlanta. I remember her because of her distinction she made between Eula and myself—not an unpleasant one, I mean. I don't know about that.
It might have been before you got here.
Yes, because, see, they were in the building from '23—somewhere like that.
'21, I think.
Uh huh, and I didn't get there until '24. So that could have happened before.
But that brings to my mind the little lady from the mail-o-meter
operation. Little lady, she came up here one year and walked in.
Evidently she had been there before, but before Eula and I were in that
area. She looked at Eula, and over there at me. She looked at Eula
again. So she walked over there and she said, 'What are you doing here?'
So she knew this was a black company, because they had sold us this
mail-o-meter machine, which all your mail ran through. So Eula answered
her, 'Working.' She said, 'You don't have any business here. You could
walk right out of this office anywhere in Durham and make more money.'
She was not partial to her working for a black firm. She was disturbed
that she wasn't doing the best she could do for herself. She said, 'Oh,
you could do so much better. You could get more money anywhere than
you'll be able to get here. They just can't pay you as much as you could
get. And I just don't know what you're doing here.' Well, Eula laughed
and said, 'Well, I've been with them x number of years. I came up from
Mississippi. I was working for them there.' So, now, I guess all the
time she's talking to Eula, she's looking over there in the corner at
me. And, at that
Eula could pass for white and you could pass for Indian?
Yes, that's the only thing I could figure. But that's the way she left it. Eula should leave, not because of the company. It's a good company. But she could just do better. She'd never make any money with the company. And, of course, she didn't see no hope for me; she told me that I just should go West. I let her finish telling, then I told her that it hadn't been long since I had been West, and I hadn't found it too different from the East.
You mentioned Bryant, one of the old-time white leaders of Durham, getting religion. Was there a kind of consensus in the black community about those who did get religion and those who didn't—the friends of the race versus those who were irredeemable? Was there a kind of spectrum there of the old timers?
I don't know, really how they felt.
How did you feel about it?
I was about to say, I know how I felt.
Well, in my group, and with Johns Front Hill—I might could do a little
If you took that family can you see kind of an evolution, because you've got three generations there?
That's what I was trying my best to think of. If I can get them straight.
I'm kind of like them like they are about me; they say we all look
alike. Then if they don't all look alike to me, too, so we're even on
that score
Watts Hill.
Watts Hill. And what's the other one? The youngest son.
He's Watts Hill, Junior, isn't he?
It is just
Or is there a George Watts Hill?
That's what I'm trying to get straight. George Watts Hill. . . .
I don't know much about these white folks either.
Uh huh.
Yeah, I got that. I'll tell you what was confusing me. You know, there's
some Watts Carrs and some Watts Hills. I put it right. I know them. I
know of them.
Now, the old man—not Johns Front, but Watts Hill—very interesting
character, very smart man. Very clever, strictly white. And when I say
strictly white and clever, I put it that way, because when he wants
something, he'll work any side of the street to get it. And you got to
be on your P's and Q's, when you figure out when he is really wanting
something and working you for it. Before we moved into the new building,
from scratch, was involved in almost everything we did about the new
building. I was involved when they bought the property. I was involved
when they got the architect. And when I say involved, I was on working
committees. That's what I mean. So I have been on every step of the way
on a working committee, until we are at the point of the building being
completed. And now we are at the point of trying to get tenants for the
building. Now, at that point, I am increasingly made aware that that's
really sort of my baby, to get tenants there, to get rid of the building
on Paris Street, and to get tenants into the other building. All because
of my title. I am now the financial vice president, so that buck is
supposed
She really is the one that's working on that program. So he makes a
contact. Just as lovely as he can be. Comes over to see me. We sit down
and we talk. We talk about the possibilities of getting somebody here. I
talk about, yes, I'm with him all the way, because we need tenants in
our building. So, any rate, we work down to a point where we're talking
about the rent costs per square foot. And I'm saying, well, we feel as
though we've got to get so-and-so. Well, he considered that a reasonable
rate. But then after a while he goes off and he comes back and talks to
me again: is there any possibility we could lower it just a little? The
reason being, of course, that we miss so much of the stuff that comes
in. It goes to Raleigh, it goes to this place, it goes wherever—which
I'm already agreeing with, and knowing. And that maybe if we could make
a handsome building like you have, attractive, and at
Watts Hill Junior is somebody else altogether? Or are we talking about. . .?
I'm talking about Watts Hill Junior's father, the smooth cookie. I didn't know how smooth the young one is, but I know how smooth the father is.
You had no dealings with Watts Hill Junior?
No. I've had only one thing said that he was supposed to have been guilty
of, which made me feel that I didn't ever want to have any dealings with
him. Although, I was not so indignant with what he said; I was more
indignant with the person who permitted it to get said—who put himself
in the position for it to be said. But it didn't give me any great
admiration for him. No, it was the father. And, as
Was there anybody in the white power structure that the black community felt they genuinely could trust; somebody who was head and shoulders above everybody else?
I don't know. They probably did. I don't know of any. I know a few people
that I liked in the community. They were not the top bananas, however.
And I think those same people were reasonably well-liked. There were
people in Home Security. I remember once there was a man there. He was
an actuary.
What about newspaper people? Editors?
There was one, Council? C.T. Council?
I think he was with the Herald. I'm trying to remember.
But you're right. The name is right.
I think he headed up the paper, I mean he was the top man. I think he was
a man who got a little religion on us. I think at one time he didn't.
And I'm getting this from comments I've heard from other people. People
who really knew him. I only came to know him when he got to be one of
We were talking about white folks. Sometimes it gets a little ambiguous as to who's white and who's black. There's all this folklore, and I know it's more than folklore, about Julian Shakespeare Carr.
When I read in your letter that that middle name was Shakespeare—I'd never known that before. Julian S. Carr. I never had even questioned it in my mind.
Do you remember him at all? Had he died?
I believe he had died when I got here. I say it like that, because the estate was still intact, and stayed so a good long time, so that I knew all the things, almost, that he wrote about in his letters. What he was sending home and that sort of thing. But I believe he had died. I don't believe he was still living when I got here, in '24. But even the furnishings, and that sort of thing, was in their place. I've been other places and seen pieces of the furnishings that came out of that house.
So the story is that Julian Shakespeare Carr—what? His half-brother? You know the story.
Yes. John O'Daniel. Oh! You want to hear that? You want me to tell it?
Oh. Well, as I heard the story, and saw many things as evidence that it
was true, and there was no pretense of denial. But, Julian Carr and John
O'Daniel were half-brothers, And John O'Daniel worked for Julian Carr.
And I knew the O'Daniel family. As a matter of fact, I went with the
grandson of John O'Daniel. The story went—and I think that's one that
could be documented—that the O'Daniel family and the Carr family had
sons, or children, almost at the same period. Identically. There's be a
John Carr, there'd be a John O'Daniel. Or a Willy Carr, there'd be a
John O'Daniel and Julian S. Carr shared the same father, is that right?
I don't think anybody ever said in my presence. They simply said that they were half-brothers. I don't think anybody ever said who was their father, to me. Maybe it was the talk that these were so-and-so's sons, but I don't know that. But the talk when I came was that they were half-brothers. Now why I considered it so authentic was two things. First this number of family sons. I don't know if there were any daughters. The sons are the ones that I knew, because I knew most of the O'Daniel sons. And the Carr sons. And then, Mr. O'Daniel had died when I got here, and they were talking about the funeral. And at the funeral, the pall-bearers had been a Will O'Daniel and a Will Carr, a John O'Daniel and a John Carr, and a so-and-so O'Daniel and a so-and-so Carr. And the other names—I don't know why they're escaping me right this minute, because I knew three sons: Willy, John, and another one. No, that's a grandson named Thurman. But whoever Thurman's father was, was another son.
Did you know any of the sons on the white side?
No. I didn't ever know them personally.
Did you ever see them? In fact, did they look alike?
Well, I don't know about that. They could have.
Were the O'Daniel sons light-colored?
And I guess that's the way I thought of it. But after a while the old
lady, Mrs. O'Daniel, died. And then, really much to my surprise, John
Allen, the man that I was interested in at the time—his mother died
rather early. No. His aunt. An aunt died rather early, earlier than you
would have anticipated. And then he died. And there was nobody left but
the mother. It looks like it wasn't any length of time. But any rate,
they began to go, one behind the other, like that. And not until they
were almost all wiped out that it suddenly dawned on me: oh, I wonder
where those letters are. Because I knew they were right up there in the
attic somewhere. Because that's where John Allen had found
Was he a son or a grandson?
He was one of the sons. Willy and John. They were the two that I knew here. Then there's a son, and that's the one that worries me because I can't remember his name. But the grandchildren were in Greensboro. One of the sons, which was a grandson, was named Thurman. And he had so much, so many mannerisms, even in appearance, except he was a little lighter in color, of Wally Hastie. There was so much about this young man that made me think, the minute I met him and saw him, that he was so much like Hastie.
Do you think that first the sons and then the grandsons of the black side of the family and the white side of the family, do you think that they knew that they were related?
I doubt it. I doubt it very much. Because all of the grandsons, none of
them were ever here, except the one that I knew, which was the
daughter's son: John Allen Foushee. John did not stay here long. He had
a beautiful voice, and he went to Chicago before I knew him. When I knew
him, he had been to Chicago and came back to Durham, I'm sure at his
mother's insistence. Because there he had gotten into show business.
But he never mentioned any of this, about his ancestors?
Oh no. Nothing but bringing me those letters. He was the one who brought
me those letters from old man Carr. I'm sure he brought them to me for
that reason. Probably figured that I knew like everybody else. Maybe we
talked about it. I don't know. He may have said something. I'm sure he
knew that I had heard like everyone else, that they were related.
Otherwise there would have been no reason why he would've brought the
letters across the street for me to see. But no more than that. But he
was the only grandson that's ever been here and lived. I'm sure of that.
And yet, there are grandchildren from at least two sons. I think that
may have been John, and that was his family in Greensboro. Willy didn't
ever have a family. He lived with a lady. And I don't think—according to
John, because I think he lived with her off and on for years—they ever
married. I don't know that. He may have. But he was the last one of them
here. And I had one of the strangest experiences, that I don't even know
if I can tell it accurately. But many years after all the rest of the
family had died, and I had been married to Pops for years, my phone rang
one evening. I got a long-distance call. I don't think the call was
meant for me at all. It was not a call to a Mrs. Turner. But the call
came in here, and the person trying to tell the operator who they wanted
was describing Willy O'Daniel. And from what they said and what they
were trying to say, they didn't know exactly where he lived, but it was
down Fayetteville—that time it was called Fayetteville Road. We were
this far down. Now you have
Were there any other families in Durham that were reputed to be mixed in this same way?
Not that I ever heard of, no. All the other gossip I ever heard was about where somebody was talking about in their own way say, 'See that girl over there? She's supposed to be so-and-so's'. And I don't know if there's any truth to it or not.
You mentioned throughout the South, that this was not uncommon, in these earlier days?
Oh, no. Nothing uncommon about it. One thing about it, what you have to remember here. Durham was a very small place where I came in the twenties. There wasn't very much of Durham. Anything that was way out, I guess what was way out then, was probably just considered, you know, out in the country. The little town of Durham was quite small. And there weren't too many people then. I'm sure there may have been some interesting stories to be told, but none quite as good as the O'Daniel and the Carr.
And everybody knew that? That was open?
Yes, because I haven't the slightest idea where I picked up the first
time I ever heard any of it. And then, of course, you see, the
Spauldings and the Moores and Mr. McDougle and his family—all of them
came from down Columbus town. They came in here. And they were all
related. But their history and their story is down there for the most
part. Anything you hear up here, some of the little peccadilloes that
the rascals came up in later years
I think so.
Yeah, and right down there—you know where you were going down to the old
theaters you were talking about; the Wonderland was right on the corner
where this block here. Where all these white businesses were, including
my husband's. And then the Carolina Times. All of that
whole thing was a factory which was a hosiery mill. That was one of his
projects that had gone out of business when I got here.
That hosiery mill that employed blacks?
I think so, but I don't know the history of it. But the empty building was still there, the hosiery mill.
Yeah, I think he had one mill for whites, and one for blacks. Hosiery Mill #2, he called it.
That I didn't even know. Oh, you see, you told me history. Of course that was the pattern. We didn't do any mixing. And that's what always made it so funny to me. That they were so hell bent on that there would be no mixing, and then how did they explain me, and people like me? Somebody had mixed somewhere. I think one of the funniest things. . . you do not have this on now, do you?
It's still on now.
Well, what I have to say now doesn't have any part in that.
Well, it might be interesting.
No, not really. Not for that. I was about to make a comment on the Joan Little Case, that was over in Raleigh, you know. Not a thing about the case, but a comment that a woman made about it. But that doesn't have any part in that.
Joan Little is a great historical event in the. . .
Well, the very fact that she was freed was historical, that's true. Well,
if you want to put it on your tape, it's all right with me, because it's
the first and only time I ever felt almost that I just had to get up and
make a telephone call. You know how you make these calls for these shows
where you call in and express yourself, or you ask questions. That's the
only time in my life I wanted to. And it was all I could do not to do
it. This was right after the Joan Little Case and she had been freed.
And Raleigh has a talk show that people call in every night, and they
have view on virtually everything. The only thing you're not supposed to
discuss is religion. Anything else, you can bring up any topic you like,
for discussion. So, I'm lying in bed. Usually when I get in bed, I turn
the radio on. This lady from somewhere, and I definitely put her down in
the eastern part of the state, because that's usually where that type
exists in abundance. She calls in about this Joan Little Case, 'Now what
do you think of that? Don't you know perfectly well, there ain't been no
justice. She's bound to have been lying about that sheriff. Now what
white man would want any. . . ' the man cut it right off right there. He
didn't let the rest of it get on the air. But you knew what she was
going to say. I wanted so bad to call in. If I could've just picked up
the phone and dialed and knew I'd get him right away. I didn't want but
one thing. I just wanted to say, 'Would you please call your lady back
and ask her to tell you where did all of us light browns, dark browns,
yellows, and whites come from? Please, if you'll just ask her that for
me.' I had nothing more to say. But she was really going to blast it
right out,
Family were Virginians. It just happened that his family was living in
New York when he was born. That's what I tell him. Don't say you're a
New Yorker. You just accidentally got born up there. But any rate, on
one of those trips coming from Florida on up, one of his friends was
courting over at the college. He decided to break his trip and stop here
to see
Coaching?
Yeah, coaching football and baseball.
In the meantime you continued to date the other fellow?
Well, yes. But, see, he was away from here. He was up in New York. So it was one of those things. And by degrees I began to slack up in writing to the other fellow, and give more time and attention to Pops. Then finally when we really did begin to get serious, Mr. Cox. . .
[END OF TAPE 6, SIDE A]
[START OF TAPE 6, SIDE B]
Couldn't boss him around. So, if you didn't handle him as a man, with a
certain amount of respect for him, then he wasn't going to be there
long. So, I said, now the best thing to do, if he wants to go in
business, encourage him, and any way you can, help him. So that's what
he did. He started off with two fellows—two brothers and himself—and
after a while one of them wanted to pull out, and the other felt if he
pulled out, well, he didn't want to go along with just the two of them.
And because I felt the reason the man wanted to pull out, the one of
them's wife, I knew
What was the
Beauty and barber supplies. Yes, uh huh. And he did a pretty good business. He did very well. As a matter of fact, he had built up a business where he just about covered the State of North Carolina. Uh huh. Of course it meant a lot of travel, but he was the type that needed it. He couldn't have stayed put to sae his life, I don't think. He had travelled off and on all of his life. See, he played professional ball when he was young. So I think he just had something that kept him kind of moving.
Did he continue to umpire in local leagues or anything?
No. You see when you're trying to build a business on a shoestring, you
don't have time to do nothing but keep working at that. But he always
had a lot of contact with young people. He was just good at that. So
there were always, for a long time, some young kids following him
around—coming down here or going to the shop, that sort of thing. But,
no, he gave it up. He was a strange kind of person, in a way. He could
make up his mind of something, and if he did, it was it. If he decided,
'Oh, I'll give this up', you never saw any evidence of regret or
remorse, or anything. It was just a final chapter. And I used to think
that, as I became living with him and knowing him more and more, and I
found out through other sources, other people talking about Pops, how
right I was. They said he had been one of the best football players at
West Virginia, and his specialty was kicking. That he could take off his
shoe—his football shoe—and kick that ball like you wouldn't believe. And
that he handled the ball well. Well, I could believe that because he had
absolutely the largest hands I ever saw. Great big hands. Long fingers.
Well shaped, well cared for. He'd
The first time we went to New York together, we're walking down Seventh
Avenue. I hear somebody say—oh, gosh, I'm not going to be able to tell
you what is that—'Harness'? No that wasn't the name. But it was a name
like that. 'Harness so-and-so!' And run over and catch him and grab his
hand and start shaking and shaking. And he turned around and says,
A baseball player?
Second base, third base?
Honest Wagner?
That's right. Now I have never heard the name, so I don't know what in
the heck they're calling him. That's right. That's the name. So I said,
'Why, in the name of common sense, are they calling you Wagner?' He
said, 'That's all they know.' I said, 'What do you mean, that's all they
know?' " 'That's all they know.' So finally I ran into Ted Thompson who
is a tennis player. And I knew him real well. Used to play tennis down
here in Harlem. In New York, we're there, and he sees us, and he comes
over and he makes a big to-do over Pops. He had known me before I
married him. 'So this is who you married, blah, blah, blah, blah. Has he
ever told you about so-and-so?' 'No.' 'Well, let me tell you.' 'Well
then, you tell me. I'll tell you what you can tell me. Tell me why
everybody down Seventh Avenue that spoke to him and said they hadn't
seen him in a long time, called him Wagner?' 'Heck!' I said, 'He said
that's the only thing they know.' He said, 'I expect so. I don't expect
they know any other name. They called him that because he played the
same position as
So humble about it, not to brag about it.
I don't think there was nothing humble about him. Just curious. Peculiar.
Had he played after college now?
He was in professional ball before he even went to college.
In the all-Negro league?
Yeah. One that I know in particular that he knew real well, and he knew
all of them to some extent, but I've heard him talk about how well—from
what he would say you knew the association was one. . . was Roy
Campenelli. That was one he knew very well. Because he would talk about
his playing style and the person.. And there were one or two other
people back in that group that he knew. As a matter of fact, the
newspaper, the Herald came here one night—to show you
the kind of husband I had. After we finished with dinner and I was
upstairs doing whatever one does, or I had dashed out into the yard or
something, because I'm always out there trying to do some work. He said,
'You going to be doing anything in the basement?' I said, 'No. Nothing
that I know of.' 'A guy's going to be coming out here after a while.' I
said, 'O.K. I'll run downstairs and see how it looks.' He said, 'That's
O.K.' So I went on about my business, and sure enough, not too long
after that the door bell rang and I started to the front, and he got
there ahead of me. So I turned around and went back. I went on doing
whatever I was doing. Then when I did see him again, the man was gone.
I'm sure I didn't even ask him who he was. Well, I don't have too much
curiosity, and then when you live with a man as long as I had lived with
him, unless you have some real reason for asking, you're curious or
something, you may not even think about it. But any rate, when I knew
who the man was, was when I saw his picture in the paper and a long
story on old baseball people and personages in the baseball world, you
know.
Do you remember who it was?
What?
Do you remember the man's name? The man who was here?
He was one of the folks up at the Herald Sun. I don't
remember which one it was.
The baseball player who was visiting?
No, it wasn't the baseball. . .it was the newspaper man!
Oh, I see.
Who had come in, had the interview, gone home, and Pops never opened his mouth about any of it. And I knew it when I open up the paper and there he is, sitting up in the paper with a story.
Do you remember what team he played for?
I'd remember if somebody else could name it. I used to know the man who managed them.
The team was in West Virginia?
Oh, no, no, no. That was in New York. He really was a Brooklynite. He was
born in Brooklyn. Oh gosh, the man lived. . .I say lived; he might still
be alive; I don't think so. I used to know the name, and if I remember
correctly—and I could be wrong on this—but I believe the man who managed
the Globe Trotters in later years, managed these ball players back in
the years when he was playing. It seemed to me that name was the same.
But I've forgotten it. I don't remember. But any rate, he started
playing baseball—and I guess most of those fellows did—very, very young.
And travelled with the team all around. And they motored. I've heard him
get with a bunch that knew something about baseball and they would talk.
And they would talk about
He was a calming influence.
He must have been proud, too.
Yes, he was. And I think that's what was one of the nicest things that
happened to me. Pops was proud of me. But he didn't have that much jealousy of me. And there's a difference. Most men
do not like a woman earning more money, or having more recognition in
any area. It didn't phase Pops at all. The only reference he ever made
to me and work was if he thought somebody was not treating me right.
Boy! He was the first one to the defense. And I really think, in his own
way, he was quite proud of me. I'm proud of myself in one sense. I think
I have finally learned enough sense to know there are some things you
never did. And I never discussed money with him. I never ran out and did
a whole lot of things without consultation. I waited for him to tell me,
'Go ahead and do whatever you want to do.' I knew if I started early
enough, and was patient enough, and mentioned it frequently enough, if
it was logical—and I always hoped I was logical. And I'd say, 'Don't you
think we should do this? Don't you think we should do that?' And he'd
say, 'Here you come with another project. Well, I just think we ought to
be thinking about this before we reach retirement age. Want to spent
some more money, don't you?' About the third time I would say it, and I
would lay out all the reasons why—for instance, central heat. Who wants
to be in trouble after you're not working and have no income? So about
the third time, he'd say, 'Go ahead and do whatever you want to do.'
That's all I needed; I was gone. But I never rushed out and did anything
and made it no surprise, you know. Because that to me, felt like you
were saying I couldn't do as I pleased. And I didn't want it like that,
and I'd never had it like that. So, consequently, I had a very happy
life, because, where I got my joy was. . .Now when the furnace was in
and all set up and the house was cozy and nice—he was a great bridge
player and he and his buddies played down here all the time—he was the
first one to show off
Third time's the best.
For me it was. And I was unmarried for a long time, because I'd sworn, 'never again!' I just thought, well, I'm just not cut out for it. I can't make it. Because there were certain things I never got to the place where I could take. I didn't like living in misery. And I didn't like making anybody miserable. And I said, well, I can't take that.
Third time's a charm, isn't it?
Yeah, with me it was.
He must have been so secure not to boast about his accomplishments, and to take pride in what you're doing.
That's right. And I had to find out everything about him. I really did.
No, None whatever. And that made life very easy for me. As a matter of
fact, I said it many places and any time that I felt like saying it: I
don't believe I could have possibly made my five last years, if I had
not had him. I don't think I could've made it. Because every year the
work got harder, the responsibilities were heavier. And I wasn't getting
any
You had four years of retirement together?
[dog barking] He always wanted me to travel more than I wanted. I didn't
have any great enthusiasm. I've done what most folks around here have
done—every time you turn around—and seen all the shows and movies and
things. I have no urge at all to go to Europe, for instance. If you were
offering them out here today, I would not be out there to get one of the
first offers. I just don't want to go. If I went anywhere, I'd want to
go somewhere else, maybe Hawaii. And even now I'm not very enthusiastic
about that because I think the tourists have messed it up. But he wanted
me to go all the time. And he particularly wanted me to go to their
Islands. So first time I went I just went to Nassau. Because some group
was going and some of my friends were there. And he insisted, so I
finally went on that little trip to Nassau. It was OK. I wouldn't have
thought about going back again. But just before this time for me to come
out, he began to talk about a cruise. So, we were fortunate enough to
take a cruise in '68 and a cruise in '69 together. So I had that joy.
And he was just as busy as a bee planning for the one for '70, and he
didn't make it. So I had that with him, and he enjoyed that, and I
enjoyed it with him.
END OF INTERVIEW