Doris Dixon: Okay. If you could give your full name and date of birth? Jackson Brown: I'm Jackson Brown. Born 1910, 15th of November. Doris Dixon: Okay. [indistinct 00:00:26]. Jackson Brown: Born just inside the Carroll County Line. Which is called now the old Greenwood Air Base. Raised up there in [indistinct 00:00:47]. Okay. I told you the Carroll County line. I told you raised up partly in Carroll County and then my mother was Caroline Brown. My father was John Brown Sr. My grandfather was Jerry [indistinct 00:01:18]. My grandmother was Lucinda [indistinct 00:01:25]. That was my mother's father and mother. I knew him. But my father's mother, she was named Rachel. And her, which was my dad's daddy, he was named Adam Brown. Doris Dixon: [indistinct 00:02:00]. Miss Moore, could you give me your full name and date of birth? Georgia Willis Moore: Okay. My name is Georgia Willis Moore and I was born May 15, 1919 in Carroll County. Doris Dixon: Okay. W.J. McCaskill: W.J. McCaskill. August 11, 1921. Doris Dixon: Were you all born in Carroll County? W.J. McCaskill: Leflore County. Doris Dixon: Hmm? W.J. McCaskill: I was born in Leflore County. Doris Dixon: But you were born in Carroll? Okay. Were you all raised here in Browning? W.J. McCaskill: I was. Georgia Willis Moore: Yes. Doris Dixon: Were you, sir? Jackson Brown: Yeah. Doris Dixon: Then let's start off by talking about Browning. Jackson Brown: Well, you— Doris Dixon: What was Browning like? Jackson Brown: You cut me off. Doris Dixon: I didn't mean to. I was just trying to make sure I get— Jackson Brown: [indistinct 00:03:05] wondered where you [indistinct 00:03:08]. Yes, I was raised up. I'd say, yes, I went to school in Carroll County until I was about probably 13 years old, just inside of the Carroll County line, called the [indistinct 00:03:27] School. And when I was about maybe 15, we moved over here and I started going to school here. But we were [indistinct 00:03:47] Browning already, just a little [indistinct 00:03:47]. Then I started going to school here at Browning. Jackson Brown: And I believe that was about 1921. And the teachers there were—The first teacher I knew there was Professor Davis. Well, Professor Moore taught there before, Professor Davis did, but he was teaching in the old school they called the Dobbie School, across over there on Emmalyssa Dobbie place. Across from the railroad there in Browning. Across the railroad. His little old school there they called the Dobbie School. I didn't go to school there, but the [indistinct 00:04:36] Browning sure was going to the school up there. And that was about 1920, '21. [indistinct 00:04:46] my brothers, they'd go up the highway there. Jackson Brown: Then after that, after they stopped the school there, there was a hall around there, the American Legion Hall, right there by my sister's place at [indistinct 00:04:58]. And they started teaching there in the two-story building. I didn't go to school there. I didn't go to school there. But later on, they built the Rosenwald School here in Browning, the Rosenwald School. Ah. I believe it was along about 1920 when they built that school. Then they got out of the hall and they were teaching in the school. I started going to school there along about 1921. I started going to school there. Professor Davis was teaching there. He was the main teacher. And his wife, she was Miss Anna Davis. Jackson Brown: Then they had another teacher that they called Miss Bessie Reddings. There was about four or five teachers there at that school. Miss Anna Davis, Bessie Reddings, and Miss Turner, they were teaching there. And we, there wasn't a well built there along about 1921. They built that well there about 1922. Before then, we were getting water just across the road there. The old man had a well there. It wasn't a running well now, but his was a dug well. And we'd draw water out with a bucket. That's how we'd get water. Jackson Brown: But later on, I think 1922, all the patriarchs, her father, his father, my father, the man that used to live very close to the track across [indistinct 00:06:46]. Uncle Henry Hedds. Her daddy's name, Uncle Dave. His daddy's name Al McCaskill. My daddy's name, John Brown, Walter McGhee and Jack McCaskill and all them paid—Well, what they did, they went in union and $5 or $10 apiece and they bought the well. They bought that well there. Of course, I was shooting marbles all down that well there and he was [indistinct 00:07:15] that well there. I think that. And we used to go there and get water out of the well there that they dug and didn't like children to mess with that well. Jackson Brown: And old, mean White man lived there. That was on the Flagghart place. And you had to get some grown up to put in the ground to draw that water. When he'd draw that water and give it to us, we'd carry it to the school in pails and they had a keg to put the water in. That's the way the children got their water. Jackson Brown: And then at that school there, there was no gas. Had the furnace started using coal, the parents would haul wood down to the school and have fire there for the children, three or four heaters there and things. That's the way they survived. And then [indistinct 00:08:02] old man that had the well, which was my wife's great granddaddy and her granddaddy had a well [indistinct 00:08:10] the railroad. They helped to donate money for the school and the parents would carry wood to the school there for fuel they have, to warm the children up. Jackson Brown: And now the children didn't have any way of traveling, no bus. The children, three and four miles, they had to walk to school there. Then if you'd be late, the teacher would sometimes send you back home. Of course, you'd been playing on the road or something. They'd know what time your parents sent you to school. Then the parents come out there and talk with the teacher and they'd tell them, "Well, I sent him in time." They'd say, "Well, he didn't make in till such-and-such a time." Well, they'd whoop him and tell him "The next morning you'd better be there and be there in time," because the teacher is going to sure tell them. Jackson Brown: People weren't running into the school there with shotguns and things about what the child said and don't jump on the teachers. No, they didn't do that. And then if you went to school, you went to school to obey the teacher and the teacher would teach you. You didn't go there to teach the teacher. You had to do what they said at that time. Jackson Brown: But it's a lot different today than it was then. Then, if you went to school and you carried a knife or something like that, the school teacher would take it away from you. And when you back here, you call your parents, tell them to come, send for them to come to the school. They'd give it to the parents. Didn't bring any knife out here and no weapon at the school. Jackson Brown: Then at that time, I remember there were devotions in school. People, we'd go to school. You had to be there around 8:30, no later than 9:00. And the teachers, what'd they do? Professor Davis, he had a bell. And he would have all of the children line up, I know this, how soldiers line up. Sometimes they'd line up two deep, three deep, just like men at war. And they would march all around that school, march all around that school, and you had to keep time. And then you'd space yourself, hang a space apart, so you'd have a step to walk. And he'd follow you with that bell. Jackson Brown: And then they'd, "One, two, three, four. One, two, three." You had to keep time. Keep that right foot going with that other foot, left foot going with his. And then he'd just [indistinct 00:10:33] after they marched. Then they would go into the school and after that, he'd go into chapel and then they would have song and prayer. And then after that, the different teachers would get their students and go to their rooms. And I remember there weren't any White folks living around here then. There weren't any White people living around here. Jackson Brown: There was a White man living right down below the school there, but he was on the Flagghart place. And from here to the top of the hill up there, 82 Highway, there was no White person living twixt there and the top of the hill. And the foot of the hill there, his [indistinct 00:11:17] lay right under the hill there, owned a lot of land. But Black folks owned all this land here. Squire Thomas owned this, right there by the church there. And my wife's granddaddy owned just a little [indistinct 00:11:31] there. Jackson Brown: And there was another man named Abbott Hardy. Up there where the Bussees live right there, he owned that. And that man, about 1923 or '24, I don't know what happened to him. Down there by the radio station, the railroad crossing there, he had an old steel [indistinct 00:11:57] car. He turned it over and that's where they found him dead, right there. Jackson Brown: After that, there was a man they called Ross, moved into that house up there, a Black man. And he was married to this lady's husband's cousin. His name was Eddie Ross. His daddy was named Ross. But he was named Eddie Ross and he had a brother named Clarence. And I was just a boy at the time. Now, he owned that place up there, where the Bussees are at. Doris Dixon: Where the buses are right now? Jackson Brown: Yeah, where the Bussees are at now. Doris Dixon: The bus depot now? Jackson Brown: Huh? Doris Dixon: It's like a bus depot? I don't know. Jackson Brown: No. It's Bussee. Bussee owns the place now. They own the place now. Doris Dixon: Oh, the Bussee Place. Jackson Brown: Yeah. The Bussees own that place now, but there's a Black man that was on it after Hardy got killed. Doris Dixon: I understand you. [indistinct 00:12:47]. Jackson Brown: And then, after he moved away from there, Bussee came in there. Then he ran the dairy out for years, I reckon 40 years or longer. And he had some young men that milked the cows. I think he had maybe 150 to 200 head of cows, milking, and the way he would carry milk to town, he had two big, white horses. And they had a buggy or a surrey or something. He'd hitch them to it and he'd carry milk in there and deliver to the whole town. Jackson Brown: And his grandson, great grandson, owns the place up there now. It runs right up to the county line, the Carroll County line. The Leflore County and Carroll County line. And there's the county line still just a bit above that. Well, we used to walk from there up here to the school. In fact, we were raised right around in here. Now his father owned his grandfather's place, right across the track over there. Old Man Keith McCaskill, he was telling you, that was his grandfather. Jackson Brown: I just can remember him. Why, his brother got a house that—His granddaddy had a house built just on this side, back in the field. I was a little boy, but his was a log house. It was a log house. And he's kind of kin to my uncle. My Uncle Solomon Jackson, he stopped there and talked to Uncle Keith. And I'd get out there and play around there at that log house, but I just can remember the old man. I just can remember him. But it's just like a dream, but I can remember that. Jackson Brown: And there was no 82 Highway going through there yet. And then John McGhee's place over there, which goes on down south, nearly about to where the Pleasant Plain Church is sitting back down there. It go way down there, but—And there, White folk got it, got part of it. My wife's cousin, they got about 60 acres of land in there, running from the old Ray place there. The old Ray place was a rich man's place they called Book Ray. And he lived and went to Memphis while his daughter taking care of it, she was called Miss Fannie Eble. That's on the right hand side of the 82 Highway. Jackson Brown: Runs back on down to what they call, I reckon, Cay land all back down in there. It's built up with White folks all back in there now, which used to be owned by old Book Ray. He had a mansion built up here around Mayor Mason with a fishing pool up on top of the house. But he left and went to Memphis. He's got some grandchildren now, grandchildren—Charlie Montgomery and Bill Montgomery. One of them runs the Western store down there. Jackson Brown: But his mother owned some property over there, around Mayor Mason up there. She's named Miss Fannie. I think she's a Wagner now. And so that's about the end of that story, the history I had. But just on the other side of where the McGhee place is at, there was an old man there, and Indian man they called Old Donnelly. Old Donnelly. Somebody in 1944 went and set the house on fire and then burned him up. Burned him up. But his place was sitting just, I reckon, southeast of where he got burned up right there. And they call that Cay land, I think, now. He has 40 acres of land in there. Jackson Brown: My auntie—He somehow, he had 40 acres there, but he deeded her two acres there and his back—On this side, on the north side of the place there. And my auntie willed it to my cousin Simon Jackson Jr., and he let the Hepfields have it, Jessa Hepfield have it. And Jessa Hepfield's wife lived down there. I believe she's named Anna Hepfield, I think. Has two acres there, and he's got that place down there. The John and Sam McGhee place there. John and Sam McGhee place there. Jackson Brown: Used to be an old lady lived just in front of that house on the east side there. She was named Clara Eggeson. That was the sister of Squire Thomas who lived there. And they had 40 acres of land in there. She had 20 and he had 20. But somehow or another, along about '42 or '43, people got in bad shape. And the old lady, she, I don't know, got in debt somehow or another. They went to close her out. And she sold it and got just what little she could get out of it. Sam McGhee bought it from her, which is my wife's uncle. Jackson Brown: And somehow there was some kind of confusion came up, and then he sold it to a White man. He sold it to a White man. I can't think of who it was but Getty or somebody. But anyway, after all's said and done, Gradis Rogers got the same piece of land there. And then he turned around and bought the whole 40 acres of what they had, bought her 20 and bought her brother's 20. And some of his ancestors are there now. I think some of his daughters or granddaughters live there in the house now. Gradis Rogers. He's White. Now you can ask more here. I done talked till I got tired. (others laugh) There's a heap more I could tell, but even still, that's enough. Doris Dixon: All right. Well, let's go back to—Mr. Brown started by talking about the school, the Rosenwald School. Can you all tell, did you attend the same school? Tell me what it was like. I'm assuming it was a few years later that you went? Jackson Brown: Hmm? Doris Dixon: I'm asking Miss Moore now. Jackson Brown: Oh yeah. Doris Dixon: Did you go to the same school that he had described? W.J. McCaskill: Yeah. Georgia Willis Moore: I think it's the same school. W.J. McCaskill: That was my beginning. Doris Dixon: I was just trying to see how it was picking up. Go ahead. Georgia Willis Moore: Look, I tape— Doris Dixon: Yeah. Doris Dixon: [INTERRUPTION 00:19:41]. Doris Dixon: Okay. Now, there was a Rosenwald School here in Browning. Georgia Willis Moore: Yes. Doris Dixon: And did you all attend? Did you all attend that same school? Georgia Willis Moore: Mm-hmm. Yes. Doris Dixon: There was Professor Davis who was the principal or one of the teachers? Georgia Willis Moore: Well, Professor Davis was the principal for a few years or something like that. Later, Mrs. Thomas was the main principal, but she was the principal there then. Clotilde Thomas, following Professor Davis. W.J. McCaskill: Professor Mosely from West Point. Doris Dixon: Just talk whenever you want to. W.J. McCaskill: From West Point. Georgia Willis Moore: Talk loudly so we hear you. W.J. McCaskill: Oh. There's some Mosely from West Point, he was a principal of Browning school in 1926, when I started the school. I was five years old and he was the principal. And then following him was Mrs. Clotilde— Georgia Willis Moore: Miss Thomas. Okay. W.J. McCaskill: —Thomas. Yeah. Doris Dixon: How many rooms were in the school? W.J. McCaskill: We had four classrooms, hallway. We had two cloak rooms where they—Cloak room for the boys, and one for the girls, where we'd hang up our belongings and where we left our dinner. We carried dinner to school every day. And that's where we left our dinner. At 12:00, then we'd rush into the cloak room and get our dinners. And when they rang the bell at 5:00, that's where we picked up our coats and hats, in the cloak room. W.J. McCaskill: We had an office for the principal. And then we had a stage, an auditorium. And we had a bin for to keep our coal in winter, because the county furnished some coal, but the citizens of the community furnished wood. And this is the way the school was warmed. The different citizens in the community, the parents in the community would tell what date that they could get together and they would haul wood, maybe two or three days every week. The older boys, they cut the wood and if it gave out and we had no coal, then they'd send the older boys to pick up sticks, and that's the way we kept the school heated. W.J. McCaskill: County only gave so much coal every year, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't enough. And they furnished the chalk for the blackboard. And we brought our own books in that time. From experience, this community has always been a unified community. The people of color or Black people that lived here, always worked in unity, and that's as far as I could remember back. Those old settlers that Brother Brown talked about here, that unity was from before our time. And we were born in this community we found that it was like that and it is still a unified community. W.J. McCaskill: It has come through the struggles in life that any other community came through. In 1928, most Black people in this community owned their own farm, they had money in the bank, and they were doing well. But in 1930, when President Hoover was elected president, he signed a bill for every bank and any insurance company that was using folk's money, they had to put up money in the federal bank for security, and if they couldn't do it, then they had to close. The bank closed up on these Black people's money, and they couldn't get money to buy their tax, to pay their tax. W.J. McCaskill: They didn't have money to pay the money that they borrowed to farm with. They had to borrow money and couldn't pay it back. Many of the Black people lost their homes here. Jackson Brown: That's true. W.J. McCaskill: That's how come it's not a totally owned Black community now. Jackson Brown: That's right. That's right. W.J. McCaskill: It's because those people were forced out of their homes because they couldn't pay the tax. When the bank closed up on their money, once the bank closed up on their money, they didn't get that money. They didn't have anything to operate, so they had to borrow money. They borrowed that money, a person took advantage of that opportunity, foreclosed, and of course they didn't have the money. Jackson Brown: That's right. W.J. McCaskill: And that's how this community is mixed up now. It wasn't because of negligence. It wasn't because we quit cooperating together. It was because of the circumstances that came about in time and history. And we became victims of those circumstances. And many of the Black people that owned their property in this community, some of them lost a farm for $300. Jackson Brown: That's true. W.J. McCaskill: Some less. Jackson Brown: That's true. W.J. McCaskill: And they never were able to regain it because, from personal experience, I know—I don't know if I ought to put this in there, but I know from personal experience. See, my father died when I was seven years old. My father was a self-contractor. He was a carpenter. And my father had money in the bank. He had good insurance. He had his farm paid for, all the livestock. W.J. McCaskill: But when this law became in effect, the bank closed up on my mother's money. My father didn't leave any will, so it probably was our property. My mother couldn't borrow any money. That's the reason why we didn't lose ours. My mother couldn't borrow money. We got hungry. I mean, real hungry. And that's the reason why we had to move into another community for four years. W.J. McCaskill: Well, you see, I know from experience what caused many of the Black people to lose their property in this community. Because they never did get that money back. My mother never did get that money back what my father had. All the money that my mother hadn't used that my father had already had in the bank, plus the insurance money, all of that, they closed up on that money. My mother never did get that money back. W.J. McCaskill: And we had to suffer. I stayed out of school four years on account of that. Didn't attend a day. But now we went through that struggle and this community still stayed together. And it's together now. In the past events, we'll tell you, and then we don't have to go back no 100 years. Her son was elected supervisor of District 2. And they tried their schemes and they finally ousted him out of the office. But the first scheme they tried, the bond company got off his bond— Jackson Brown: That's right. W.J. McCaskill: —and we went to him and talked with him. And I asked him personally, "Is there anything we can do, Mr. Moore?" He said, "I'll let you know in a few days." In a few days, they passed around the papers to sign. We were putting up our property for bond. And while he needed $350,000 worth of bond, we went over it. And then they had a hearing, as if we had committed a crime. They had a hearing. We went down and we had—They started as if you committed a crime. They started around 9:00 in the morning and when they called your name and you started up, they asked you to stop and raise your right hand. "You solemnly swear you'll tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?" W.J. McCaskill: And then they said, "Take the witness stand. You take the witness stand." They asked you, "What's your name? Where do you live? Give me the directions to your house. Give me directions—Give us a legal description of your property. Give us the value of it," and all those kinds of questions. They cross-examined you and asked you who you owed and who you worked for. Jackson Brown: Oh yeah. W.J. McCaskill: And that went along all day, trying to bluff us. But we still stayed together and then they had to try another scheme. The last scheme they tried, it was unfair. Went to affairs court but it still went through. Jackson Brown: Yeah, it went through. W.J. McCaskill: Any man at some time, him and his wife aren't going to get along. Mr. Moore's wife and him got in a little struggle and she did like the average woman would do. She went to Greenwood. He did what I did. He went there and tried to get her. And they said that he was living over there. When he got his wife, he came back home, right where he was born, right here. Jackson Brown: That's right. W.J. McCaskill: And they still loused him out and said he wasn't living in the district, so he couldn't maintain that office. Jackson Brown: That's right. W.J. McCaskill: And then they gave us somebody. They hand-picked us somebody. I don't have anything against the man, but now we know what we want. We didn't only vote for him. We put up our property for him. And they gave us somebody else to carry out his term and then when they carried out his term, then he ran. Mr. Mull ran. And he lost by a few votes. But next time, he won. Jackson Brown: Hell yeah. W.J. McCaskill: They arrested his mama. They arrested everybody that they could and said that it was voter's fraud. They arrested everybody they could. And one morning, a lady called me. She said, "Grandpa McCaskill—" I can't set a date for this. Lady called me and said, "Grandpa McCaskill." She said, "I want you to go down to the jailhouse and buy my daughter out." Said, "They got her on voter's fraud." I said, "I'll be down there in a few minutes." This is how we stand together. We might be defeated, but when we go down, we're going down together. Jackson Brown: Yeah. W.J. McCaskill: And this community knows it. Greenwood knows it. The State of Mississippi knows it. We're together and we're going to be together. And this is how we have made progress, because that house divided within itself, it can't stand. Jackson Brown: It can't stand. Amen. Doris Dixon: You said, what is the progress that's been made? W.J. McCaskill: We have the same supervisor that we put up our property, you know— Jackson Brown: That's right. Doris Dixon: Okay. I'm— W.J. McCaskill: We have him as supervisor and we're making progress. This community looks better than it ever looked in the whole history of all the time I've lived here, and I've been here all of my life. Jackson Brown: Yes, brother. Doris Dixon: Well, tell me how it used to look. Sorry, I don't know. I mean, tell me how it's changed from— W.J. McCaskill: It was not upgraded. It was not taken care as well as it is. It was trees and things. You couldn't see that highway, that railroad, before he was elected. There was trash all up and down the highway. Jackson Brown: This old, dirty road out there, the fact that he'd sprinkle a little gravel on it. But finally when he got it, he blacktopped it all the way down [indistinct 00:32:18]. W.J. McCaskill: See, and this community has been together to this point, so we have a community club here. And whatever we think that is best for this community, when we meet, we meet and we stand together and we agree together and we send the results to the proper place. That's how we got this blacktop that you see. Doris Dixon: Right. When was the road, when was the asphalt laid? When was the road constructed? W.J. McCaskill: Well, the first one, Clarence Road was constructed, I can't give to you. Can you, Mrs. Moore? Georgia Willis Moore: Mm-mmm. W.J. McCaskill: It was from this blacktop here all the way down. That was probably 20 years ago or better. Jackson Brown: Probably that long, yeah. W.J. McCaskill: But now the way we got it, we had a White supervisor, but this community club met and we discussed it and we sent a petition signed by everybody in this community to this supervisor. And he was talking about this thing and that thing. And I told him, I said, "Now—" We told him. We said, "Now, the road is wide enough that you could make it wide." And they just kept talking this talk and I told him, "There's different strokes for different folks." W.J. McCaskill: And we got it. And that's how we got it, is because of togetherness. We had a petition and we sent a committee. The club sent a committee with that petition and we were hurried. And that's how we got it. Now we didn't have this problem for the blacktop that came from— Jackson Brown: No. W.J. McCaskill: —this blacktop down past my house, because we had a man that was concerned about the community. He was born and raised in this community, her son, Mr. Robert Mull. And he wanted the best for that community and he's still working the best for that community. And I'll tell you another thing. I believe if he lived to be 90 years old, we're going to still say, "And we want him as supervisor," because of the work that he's done. And because we can work together. Jackson Brown: Yeah. W.J. McCaskill: That's the reason why. Doris Dixon: Okay. And then in order for whoever's listening to this tape to understand how you work together today, they need a window into how you worked together in the past. You mentioned the way they constructed the well. Can you give me other examples of how people pulled together, how people shared back in those days? W.J. McCaskill: Yeah. Jackson Brown: Well, yes. The old peoples, they shared and [indistinct 00:35:03] together. How he said, "Together we stand, and divided we fall," the old pals, they pulled together. They built together, and that caused us children— W.J. McCaskill: You already have on record how I told you about how we furnished—In other words, the old people, they built the school. They built the well. They furnished part of the fuel that was needed through the winter, because they selected that day that they would get together. And they hauled wood— Jackson Brown: That's right. W.J. McCaskill: —to the school. The county only furnished coal but not enough— Georgia Willis Moore: That's right. W.J. McCaskill: —whatever they furnished, and we had to supplement the rest. Jackson Brown: Yeah. W.J. McCaskill: You understand? This was a togetherness. We have been together for protection and for provision. And when I said protection, we were concerned about one another. We didn't have any problem with our children going over, violating on somebody else. Everybody was concerned about the lawliness that could come into our community. Doris Dixon: You mean White people from the surrounding parts? W.J. McCaskill: Every time we were concerned. Doris Dixon: But I mean about who coming in? W.J. McCaskill: Now what I'm talking about, we were concerned about the lawliness of our own people. Doris Dixon: Okay. I understand. W.J. McCaskill: You have to say, we can't—There is no togetherness where people are lawless. You understand? In order for people to be together, the first thing, everybody has got to teach themselves to be trustworthy. You understand? If you don't trust me, then we can't unite, so we saw to it. If I went to another parent's house to play with their child. If I came back with a marble and my daddy knows that he didn't buy a marble that color, my daddy asked me, "Why you've got that marble?" If I said, "I found it." He'd say, "Carry it back where you found it and put it right back there and come home." And if I'd said, "My friend loaned it to me," he told me, "Carry it back to your friend." And it didn't make any difference what time of day, what time of night- Jackson Brown: That's right. W.J. McCaskill: —you just didn't come home. And so we saw to it. The parents saw to it that this unity was maintained, would be maintained. It would continue because we sought to doing right. First, we're going to see that we do right. This right is going to begin with me, and my family is going to have to do it. My son couldn't go to Brother Brown's house and come back with a toy and play with it in the yard and I see it and I know I didn't buy it. And if you found some money, if nobody is with you, you better carry the money back where you found it. Georgia Willis Moore: That's right. W.J. McCaskill: And so that— Jackson Brown: That is so true. W.J. McCaskill: See, that's the way. That's the way we could continue to work together and have this unity that I'm talking about, because everybody was concerned, first about themselves and then about their fellow man. And if you're concerned about yourself to the point that you're going to keep yourself right, then you can extend that concern to your fellow man. Jackson Brown: That's right. W.J. McCaskill: But it begins with yourself. And this was the spirit of this community and still is the spirit. Georgia Willis Moore: Yes. Yeah, I'd like to relate an experience that I had when I was a little girl. I went to play with some of my friends, and Miss Rosa Parker, and I picked up a comb. People used to wear hair combs in their hair. I picked up the comb and carried it home. When I got home with it, my mother asked me, "Where'd you get that comb from?" I told her. She said, "But why'd you bring it here?" What did I tell her? I don't know what I told her. "Miss Rosa said I could bring it home"? What'd I tell her? Georgia Willis Moore: Anyway, she said, "Well, you get right in front of me," and it was night, and she marched me all the way back up to Miss Rosa's house and carried that comb back. And she gave me a whipping after I got back home. And that was the end of that. But that just is what happened. Jackson Brown: That's true. W.J. McCaskill: I remember once, my mother had a niece. She was named Sally Selver. That'd be a long, long time ago. And her husband, he would fix shoes. And they were renting out our house. They carried my shoes out. [indistinct 00:39:47]. I carried them over there and fixed them. He fixed the shoes. My mother said, "Go over there to Sally's house and get your shoes." I went over there. Wasn't but [indistinct 00:40:01]. I went over there to get the shoes. He wasn't there, but she was there. My cousin Sally was there. And she said, "Yeah, your shoes are done. I'll get them." Well, there was a nickel down in the other shoe. An old buffalo nickel. I got it and put it in my pocket. W.J. McCaskill: I went back to the house, playing with it, and my mom was like, "What's that?" I said, "Oh, I found it." She said, "Oh, you found it? Whereabouts? Let me see it. I'll see it." It wasn't rusty and it wasn't nothing. She said, "No, you didn't find it. Where'd you get that?" I said, "I got this nickel, I got it from this shoe. And she said, "Well, wait a minute. I'm not going to [indistinct 00:40:35]. So now you carry it back." They called her Kit. "You carry it back—" [indistinct 00:40:41] because wasn't there. "You carry it back and tell her you stole it." W.J. McCaskill: And man, that's the hardest thing I ever tried to you. She said, "You'd better tell her you stole it." Course I'm going to ask her once. (laughs) And I told her I stole it and she said, "Well, go back and tell Aunt [indistinct 00:40:56] to not whoop you any more." I said, "Well, the nickel was in the shoe. I knew in there, but you sure got it." She said, "but tell [indistinct 00:41:01] not to whoop you anymore." She knew I was whooped because I was crying and going on. But still I had to go back. It made me not want to pick up stuff [indistinct 00:41:12]. Jackson Brown: Yes, and as I said, I didn't get a chance to tell you that my daddy, he came here from Virginia. My mother, she was born here with her father, old man [indistinct 00:41:38]. They came from Columbus, Georgia. He was following his wife. She was Lucinda. Lucinda Kimber. But he followed her when she married him, she [indistinct 00:41:57]. She was following her people and my grandfather followed her and he left Georgia and left his mother there, father, and his sisters and brothers and never did go back there no more. Jackson Brown: And he died in '44 when he was 110 years old. He passed in '44. And I said I, if I ever got where I could, I aimed to up and went back through up there in Georgia somewhere in Columbus and see, could I find his old sisters up there, his old ancestors? None of them, but some of the branch off from them. But I haven't got a chance to go yet. Doris Dixon: Now your mother's people came here from Georgia? Jackson Brown: Yeah. Her father. Doris Dixon: Her father. Jackson Brown: And her mother. And they brought, they told me, four children with them. Her brother was named Milo. That's a good name, boy. And there's one named Edwin. And my Auntie Sally Jackson. He brought them with them and he never did go back. Doris Dixon: Now when they came, did they settled on someone else's farm? Were they sharecropping or renting or did they buy— Jackson Brown: Oh, yeah. I imagine they was, I imagine they was. That would've been a long time ago. They told me they moved over here around [indistinct 00:43:19], went around sharecropping. That's why they landed there and when he stopped. By and by, my granddaddy and all of them moved back out here and moved back on top of the hill there where the old [indistinct 00:43:29] on the old [indistinct 00:43:29] base. Right there, I mean. But my mother was born over there across, over there around [indistinct 00:43:29] over there. That's about, I reckon, four or five miles northwest of Greenwood here, on 49. Yeah. [indistinct 00:43:29] so she said, so they moved out here. But she was a good one— Doris Dixon: And that place, were they sharecropping out there? Jackson Brown: Yes. I imagine they were. I imagine they were. But my mama said she was a girl when they laid the railroad track here. The railroad track here, that was a long time ago. She was about 104, 105 years old. She died in '80, my mother. Doris Dixon: Most people in this part were farmers. W.J. McCaskill: Yes. Doris Dixon: Was it renting and sharecropping or owning? What was their— W.J. McCaskill: Most people in this community owned. And that was some Black people that lived in community that sharecropped with some of the Black people that owned property in this community. Yeah. And that goes back, again, to how we have been able to work together. We did. Jackson Brown: My father, how he was telling you about the Depression that came on, 1920 my daddy bought 80 acres of land, I reckon about three miles south of here. In 1920. And that was the year they elected President Hoover for president. Cotton sold real good then, but he was a [indistinct 00:45:20] man. But he bought 80 acres of land down there, and he got a lawyer somehow. Thank God, man. It was such a time. And he of course gave him a clear path. He paid for the land. He did build a house down there. It was about a six-room house. But then he bought the lumber cash, and paid the carpenters to build the house. And he stayed there about, I reckon, 40 years. Jackson Brown: The Depression came on in the '30s and for president, they elected Hoover in the year '28. He took his seat '29. In '29, [indistinct 00:46:08] lot of cotton and meat and corn and everything and how many people [indistinct 00:46:16]. But then the lawyer gave him a raw deal. [indistinct 00:46:22]. He didn't look and see, sent something right through Texas with all the land. And the preacher had to come on. The bottom had fallen out. Bankers set up on all of their money—