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Augusta, Ga. (Edith Bell Love)
Maria Smith, who lives across the street from Mays' Funeral Home, has "visions" which she claims are a living death.
"I got my religion bowin' low," she says. "I prays stiddy to Jesus and he takes care o' me. When I come fru' wid de salvation I seen de golden stairs. Wassan it a grand feeling'!"
Grammaw, who lives with Maria, nodded.
"She was a walkin' 'long de street," confirmed Grammaw, "and she went out!"
"Dey pick me up and take me home," continued Maria importantly, "for three hours I was out. I bin to de golden streets. De gate flew wide and de pale man sittin' by de table look at all de people as dey march around. But my robe switchin' round too much for me to git by. De table was sot down dere in de middle ob Heaben. On it de pale man had a great white book. He look at me and say: 'You kain't git in yet! I look at de book - dey was two-three black dots agin me. He say: "You cover 'em up and den come back.' I don' wanner come back here, but I hadder. He tell me preach to everybody and tell 'em 'bout Jesus. Yassum - I prays stiddy every day."
With difficulty Maria was brought back to the subject of slavery, but she was content to let Grammaw do the telling. As
Grammaw had had nineteen children, her mind worked along the subject of childbirth.
"De suckin' mothers was given light wuk," said Grammaw. "My mother had a track of two acres to tend. I used to tend her suckin' baby and tote it down to de fiel' for her to nuss. Den de baby would to sleep and we'd lay it down 'twixt de cotton rows and ma would make me holp her. She kep' a long switch and iffen I didn't wuk fast enuf, she switch me. When she got through she could quit. Sometimes she was through by noontime. Den she'd go back to de quarters and iffen it was fruit time, she'd put up some fruit for mistis."
Grammaw's mother also had 19 children.
"I was de oldest," she said, "Ma was almost fifteen when I was born. Having me was what kilt her, I was so big and fat. She had sebenteen mo' chilluns but it finally got her. She died wid a pain in her stomach when she was ninety year ole."
"Were you and your husband on the same plantation, Grammaw?" she was asked.
"No, I live on one plantation, my husband live on anudder. He come ober to see me. He had a pass sewed on he hatband and anudder he kep' sewed on he coat. If he didn't hab a pass de padderollers git him. When de crops was finish at de end ob de year, my marster bought him so we wouldn't be separate."
"What made you so religious, Grammaw?"
"My marster was a preacher and I got to seekin' de light when I was a little thing. When religion got me, I wanted to jine de chu'ch, but my pappy say ter marster: 'Doan let her jine, she too little.' But I kep' on seekin'. I used to sleep in de room wid mistis' chillun, and I would pray all night. One night de light come fru' and I roused de whole house shoutin' 'glory hallelujah!' I was so happy it was lak I was floatin' on de air. I sang and I prayed and I shouted. Dey couldn't keep me fum jinin' de chu'ch den 'cause dey knowed I'd bin save. So dey tuk me into de white chu'ch to baptize and to jine. We went to de white folks chu'ch den. I was so little dey had to put me on a table. A white pusson helt me on one side and a nigger on de udder. Everybody was happy and sang and shouted. I felt like I had got wings and I knowed I was a child o' God."
Grammaw, despite her numerous children, all dead, is hale and hearty at 87. She no longer pursues her profession of midwife, but with Maria, spends her days praying and seeking to be purged of some imaginary sin. When she goes into a trance she remains unconscious all day. Nobody ventures to disturb her because "her soul is visiting in heaven."
"I feel my wings sprout up on my shoulders, and I spreads dem and jes' flaps lak a bird, and off I goes floatin' easy and high till I get to de city wid de golden streets. Growin' up and down dem streets is rows ob trees wid all kin's ob fruit hangin' on 'em so dey jus' meks yo' mouf' water to look at 'em. Onc't dese trees of life made me so hongry till I thought I'd die iffen I didn't git some. I thought I could eat and eat. I picked off a fig and right where I had picked it, one sprang back again. I took one bite - it tas'ed lak nothin' you kin tell, it was so grand. Wid one lil' tas'e you is satisfy and feel lak you'll never git tired again." Grammaw shook her head sadly. "I saw my Jedus, but he wouldn't let me stay. He say 'go back to yearth and redeem souls.'"
Mrs. Lydia Calhoun Starks (Mildred Sneed Interviewer)
