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Nora Armstrong is a small, plump negress, who is probably part white, as the pink color shows in her cheeks. Even
at her age, she is a comely woman, with an attractive manner and a sincere Christian character.
"My name uster be Nora Ferrell 'fo' I's marry. My marster' name was Ancil Ferrell. Den I marry Manuel Armstrong
and is now Nora Armstrong. I's bo'n in 1862. I's slave-bo'n and free-raise'. My husban' was ten year' ol' w'en the war
close, and he 'members so much mo' dan I does, but he down sick in the bed. He was eight, I t'ink, w'en freedom
come, and me, I's 'bout t'ree."
"My mudder's marster bery (very) cruel to dem. He lef' big welts all over my mudder' back. I kin 'member seein' the
sojers fum the Nor'f passin' us plantation. My husban' say it tuk dem t'ree day' to pass, and he nebber see so many
gray hosses befo' or since in all he life. I 'member dat dey sont us youngsters down to the cow-lot to milk, and jes' as
soon as us would git a li'l milk, some sojer tek it 'way fum us and drink it up."
"Back in Geo'gie, atter marster die', mudder say she and anudder gal would slip out nights and go to parties and visit
the neighbors, and slip back 'way in the mawnin'. One night, dey slippin' back, and Sally frow (throw) up her han's
and say, sh---, look! Mudder look! And dar under the big beech tree, not fur fum the house, sot ol' marster watchin'
dem. Dey skeert mos' to dea'f, but nex' week dey go 'gin. Den w'en dey come home, dar sot ol' marster' sperit jes' the
same, watchin' dem, and eb'ry night dey slip' off, til' freedom 'clard, dar sot ol'
marster. But dey say dat the onlies' ghos' w'at dey eber see."
"Everett Armstrong was my ol' man's marster. My ol' man, he jes' fa'm and wuk at the mills eber since us is free, but
now us jes' fa'min'. W'en I's bo'n in Geo'gie, the war was purty heaby dar den. Mudder say she'd sot me on the flo'
and w'en I hear the cannon roar, and the big shells bust, I'd try to peep out the door' and winder' to see w'at it was all
'bout. Mudder say dey didn' let dem know w'en dey is free, dey jes' kep' dem and mek' 'bout t'ree mo' crop', den my
fadder and mudder hear dey's free, and dey 'cided to run 'way."
"I 'member fadder and mudder each tuk one of the younger chillen and tote 'em and as I's the ol'es' chile, dey lead
me by the han'. Dey slip' out in the night and w'en us go down into the deep woods, I's awful 'fraid and I 'gin to cry.
The moon was shinin' and us hab to cross a big creek. W'en I seed the 'flection of the moon and the stars and clouds
in the water, I lit into screamin' for I's sho' I's goin' to drown. Den fadder and mudder tol' me to shut up or the
Boss-man sho' come and git me."
"In the mawnin' us come to anudder w'ite man's house and he tol' fadder and mudder it true dat dey's free. Den befo'
long, us come on Wes' and fadder wuk at the saw mills, and fa'm the res' of his life."
"My ol' man, he git eight dolla's pension, and I gits seben, but be cain't wuk much w'en he eighty, and me
sebenty-five myse'f."
Hatcher, Letha K., P.W. Jasper, Jasper, Dist. #3. (September 12, 1937 (No))
