Depression brings alcoholism, then religious conversion
This passage offers insight into Turner's core beliefs. The death of Turner's husband ushered in a difficult period in Turner's life, including a seven-year bout with alcoholism, but she emerged from her troubles with a newfound religious faith and an acute sense of the struggles of the poor.
Citing this Excerpt
Oral History Interview with Josephine Turner, June 7, 1976. Interview H-0235-2. Southern Oral History Program Collection (#4007) in the Southern Oral History Program Collection, Southern Historical Collection, Wilson Library, University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill.
Full Text of the Excerpt
- JOSEPHINE TURNER:
-
Well, after I found my husband was dead in the bed, this was hard to
accept and I started drinking. I just went off the deep
end——I don't know whether Stephanie
even knows this——for about four years; but I had
been drinking, I'd say about seven years. But then God came
into my life in '64 when my last baby was born. And I had a
Caesarean and then … they never told me it was a cancer
operation, but I always will believe that that was what was happening to
me. I had this severe hemorrhage, and I wasn't weighing a
hundred pounds when they put me in the hospital. The doctors had gave me
up. And I made a vow to God on my death bed that if he would let me live
I would serve him and I would be more humble—and which I
tried to be. So he did: he raised me up off that bed in '64.
And from that day to this one I've tried to live the best I
know how for God and tried to help my fellow man, because I come up on
the rough side. Now I know what it is to be poor; I know what it is to
have the lights turned off, the water turned off,
and I can sympathize with these people. And my mother, I know what a
hard time she had bringing us up. This is what gets me so sadly
… like this incident we had this other day of the boy
stabbing the baby thirty-two times. I knew this family. I
haven't forgot from whence I came—you understand
what I'm saying? And nothing I have materialistic gets on me;
as you can see I don't care that much about it. But
I'm going to try to do better, you know. But I've
had all my children in my house, and I tell them to bring their friends
in. That's why I don't have anything; they bring
their friends in and they just takes over. So now that
they're gone I'm in the process of trying to do
something.
But I don't forget, as I say, from whence I came and the
people around me. This is what hurts me, when the people uptown will sit
behind their desks and try to run the lives of the people out here, when
they don't know what's happening out here.
They're not out here; they've never seen the
starvation or the sick. They've never went in the hospital
and seen these things, and I know they haven't. And this is
why I ran, to try to help somebody. I said, "I may never win
it," but I'm always there trying to help somebody,
because there's nothing I've got. Everything
I've got belongs to God and he's just lent it to
me for a little while. This is the way I look at these things. Even my
children: I'd accept it if one of them would die or get
killed tomorrow. I've accepted this, because my mother used
to tell me, "God loans children so there's just a
little sunshine loaned to you for a little while. And don't
love nothing better than you do God." And I try not to love
nothing. I don't put anything in front of God: I put it this
a'way. So this is why it kind of gets on
me when they sit up there and say they know something. And I say,
"You don't know because you're not out
there. You haven't seen those children hungry, you
haven't seen those poor people." We had a lady by
the other day that they sent home from the hospital. They know she was
going to die, but they should have put her in a home before they sent
her back home by herself. The police had to break in; she was up there
naked, struggling for breath. I had been to see her, but I
couldn't go back. These are the things I'm talking
about.
- KAREN SINDELAR:
-
You don't think there's anybody right now in city
government that really knows what's happening with these
people then?
- JOSEPHINE TURNER:
-
I won't say one or two may not know. But I'm
talking about the majority of them don't, no; no, they
don't know what's happening out here,
'cause we have to bring them out and show them the stuff. I
mean, you saw my picture in the paper the other day protesting the
condition down there? And this is what irks you, these houses that
they've got the people living in that's not fit
for dogs to live in. And they won't do anything. We have some
old people—the reason I don't push it as hard as I
do 'cause I'm a housing inspector, they put the
old folks out of there and they've got nobody to go to. Some
of them can't afford to pay the thirty dollars a month, the
thirty-seven dollars a month. And if you force them, then
they're going to tear them down and fix them up for the
people to live in. And we have a lot of old people over here.
It's heartbreaking. If you could just walk in and see the
conditions. If I had the money—and maybe that's
why I don't have anything—I'd like to
put some kind of a … not a high-rise (that I'm
afraid of), but say something like they've got on High Park,
maybe two units to a house. But it's
elegant, and the poor people…
- KAREN SINDELAR:
-
Sort of like or something, yes.
- JOSEPHINE TURNER:
-
And I just see the need, but I don't have the money and I
don't have the , so what're
you going to do? But I'm going to cry as long as I can to
them and appeal to them; that's all I can do.