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Miemy Johnson has no particular place of abode. She is a transient among her children, kin people, and friends. In whatever home she any be temporarily an occupant, she does the cooking and family working.
"I knowed when dat bunty rooster hopped in de door, flap his wings and crowed, dis mornin', dat us gonna have company today. I told Sam befo' he left here. Him laugh and say: 'Ma dat bunty roaster is a big liar sometime.
Maybe him just wanna recommend himself to you and beat de pig to de slop bucket dat you ain't carried out to do pen yet.' I's sure glad dat you come, for it'll show Sam dat dat chicken never told a lie.
"Set down dere and let me fetch you a plate of boil peanuts, which I just is set off de fire. Ten lak them? Glad you do, honey. Most white folks love them dat way, 'stead of parched. How you been? You sho' is growed since de last day I clap my eyes on you. How's I been? Poorly. I's just a waitin' for de chariot to carry me home!
"Well, as done out down de underbrush, now let as git into de new ground. You just wanna talk 'bout me and what happen to me all 'long de last eighty years? Dat's some big field to go over.
"My pappy was some Henry. My mammy name Ceily. They both b'long to old Maree Johnnie Mabley, but my pappy's pappy b'long to do Johnson's; they's big white folks on de Catawba River side of de county. They sold deir plantation and some of de slaves, to old marster and his daughter, Miss Nancy. She was de view Thompson befo' her marry date Kentucky hoss drover, Marse Jim Jones.
"Freedom come. My pappy 'membered de Johnson's and took dat for his name. I never been able to git 'my free dat same. I marry little Phil Johnson. My brudder was Adam Johnson and my sister was Easter. Her marry Allan Foster.
"My husband and me live to do old Mobley quarter, three miles somewhat of Woodward and just 'bout a quarter of a mile from where you sittin' dere a writin' right now. Long as him live, him was de carriage driver few de Mobleys. He 'tend Fellowship Church. All de Mobeys done dead or moved 'way. Dere is nothin' left to tell de tale but dat cemetery you passed, comin' 'long done here and de ghosts dat shiver 'round dere in de nighttime. Whenever it snow, then ghosts have been travelin' down de road and up de avenue to Cedar Shades. You know dat's bout a quarter of a mile farther down de road from where Marse Johnnie's brudder, James Mobey lived. Fine old house dere yet, but just colored folks live in it.
"Our children was Roxanna, Malinda, Ben, Mary, Waddell, Queen Kilseboth, Russell, Peerty, Thomasin, Mary Jese, Willie, Sam and Roy. Had de easiest birth pains when, to my big emprise, de twins, Sam and Roy come. Dat been forty years age last July. I 'members will, dat de twins was born on a Wednesday and I went to Red Mill Church de very nex' Sunday. Rev. Richard Cook was de preacher. Him didn't see me a settin' in de church and he pray for me by name, as bein' in de perils of childbirth. And bless God, me right dere in dat church a goin' 'long wid de rest of them a singin', 'Amazin' Grace How Sweet De Sound Dat Saved A Wretch Lak Me'. I was a proud wretch dat day as sure's you born!
"Does I 'member anything 'bout de earthquake? Jesus my Lord, yes! Us was holdin' a revival meetin' in the Red Hill dat might! It was a moonlight Tuesday night. Brother Stevenson and Brother Moore was a helpin' Brother Richard Cook carry on de meetin'. It was de last day of August, in '86. Brother Moore had preached, de choir had sung a hymn, and Brother Stevenson was in de middle of a prayer. Him said sumpin' 'bout de devil goin' 'round lak a roarin' lion a seekin' folks for to devour. Then de roarin' was heard. De church commence to crack and shake and rock. Then all de folks holler: 'Oh Lordy.' They run out dat church and some took up de big road to de depot at Woodward. Some fell down in de moonlight and cry and pray. Brother Cook say de Bible says: 'How down, or kneel or fall on your face befo' de Lord'. Then he say: 'Let us all fall on our faces dis time.' Us did and each one of them preachers pray. 'Bout time they git through, as see a rider on a milk white hoss a gallopin' up to do church wid de white mane and tail of dat hoes a wavin' and shinin' in de moonlight. De people went wild' wid fear and scream at de top of deir voices; 'It's de white hoss wid his rider of de book of Revelations goin' forth, conquerin' and to conquer.' They bust forth in dat mighty spiritual 'Oh Run Here, Believer, Run Here, Oh Sinner Your House On Fire!' Oh Sinner Your House On Fire!' They run and surround de white horse and his rider and what you reckon? Us find out it was just Marse Ed Woodward on his white hose, John, comin' back from courtin' my young mistress, Tillie Mobley, dat him marry de nex' Christmas.
"Marse Ed get down off dat hose when we big him to stay wid us. It's a pow'ful comfort to have a brave white man 'round at sich a time 'mongst a passle of terrified niggers. I tells you! And to think Marse Ed done dead.
"You goin' now? You ain't eat all your peanuts. Put them in your pocket and eat them on de way to de Boro. Goodbye I 'spect I'll git to glory befo' you does. If I does, I'll be dere a waitin' wid a glad hand and a glad voice to welcome you to do everlastin' home."
(Project 1885 -1-, District #4, Spartanburg S.C., 31 May 1937, POLL-LORE: EX-SLAVES)
