Well, things were hard to come by back then. We can read our history
books. Going back to one of my ancestors—William Henry Thomas—that
settled down the eastern part of the state, had something like 6,000
acres down there. And when we look back at my grandmother Thomas, who
was born in 1848, she was nearly a full-blooded Indian. Three quarters,
something like that. We wonder what in the world happened, Rob. Did an
Indian get in the woodpile somewhere down along the line or what? But
no! You go back and search your history. William Henry Thomas at that
time was a young boy, nineteen or twenty years old. He was well educated
wherever he came from in 1730 when the Thomases—three of them—came over
here. The federal government wanted to use him as a wagon-master or
guide or what have you—like that—when they were moving the Indians to
Oklahoma. Well, he took the job. He had a wagon, a team, a riding horse
and a cow. And he went along with that. When they got to Oklahoma he did
not want to bring the team and the wagon and the cow back. So he met
with an old Indian of another tribe there in Oklahoma, a Chippewa or a
Choctaw and he saw a sixteen-year-old Indian gal running around, and he
traded a wagon a horse and a cow. And he—and the little girl's name was
Two Step. She was full-blooded, what have
Page 51you. They
came back here and raised about twenty-one children.
[Laughter] She died at the age of about 105,
and he lived to about 115. People at that time held on to their lands.
Well, we was down in Georgia. You had many of those plantation owners
that still lived down there. Now Rob, those people are the happiest
people in the world working those plantations. That is why we moved back
here, because politics and other corruption got started in 1963, and it
was a dangerous place to raise children in any time.