Cordelia Brown interview recording, 1994 July 20
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Transcript
Transcripts may contain inaccuracies.
| Paul Ortiz | Mrs. Brown, could you tell me where you were born and something about the area that you grew up in? | 0:03 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, I was born in Greeneville, Tennessee. That's East Tennessee, a small town. | 0:10 |
| Paul Ortiz | And what did your parents do? | 0:17 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | My father was a railroad man. He worked on the railroad, but my mother didn't work. She stayed home and took care of the children and the house. | 0:26 |
| Paul Ortiz | What are your earliest childhood memories in Greeneville? | 0:40 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | My earliest childhood memories in Greeneville. Well, I remember there was a large family. My mother had 12 children and she stayed home with us. I remember that so well. And of course, I went to elementary school there, we all did, and to high school there. And we didn't live in well, the real country. We lived on the edge of town. And Daddy had enough land to have gardens, and was very supportive of the family. So he raised crops throughout the year. I remember that so well. He raised vegetables and we had fruit trees and whatnot, and that was very good. I remember those days. And there was no school buses for us. We all walked to school about two miles— Well, about a mile and a half, I guess, to school every day. And we walked to school and back school. We had no school buses. | 0:46 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, they were— I don't know of anything else, right now just to remember. We had good times, and my brothers and sisters, they all worked, but they worked in private homes as we grew up. | 2:08 |
| Paul Ortiz | But that would've been the 1930s, primarily? | 2:31 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yes, that was in the thirties. Back in the thirties. | 2:37 |
| Paul Ortiz | How was the area in terms of community? Would you say that there was a neighborhood that you grew up in, or was it more isolated? | 2:47 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, it was a community, but we lived in a predominantly White neighborhood, but we were all close. It was a close knitted community. And like I said, Daddy had land for gardening, where he raised vegetables and it was a very close, well thought community. And we got along well in our community, even though it was a segregated community. But we all got along well, and if there was anything to share, we shared. And if we needed help, all of the neighbors were always willing to help. And I don't know that we ever needed any. But they were all friendly enough, we were close enough to ask for help. And so if they needed help, they would come to us. And we didn't have any, what you might say, racial problems, but we knew that we went our way and the Whites went their way. | 3:00 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And like I said, the schools were segregated in those days. And I guess that's why you saw— All the Blacks walked to school. And there may have been a few buses for Whites that went to their school, but wherever the Blacks lived they were— We lived on this end of town and our school was on the other end of town. And of course there were some Blacks lived— Well, most of the Blacks lived closer to school than we did. They were few other Black families that lived a mile from school or a mile and a half, and we all walked. And it was an enjoyable time. And walking, getting together and getting to know each other better and having good times together. Those were some of the memorable things that I remember. | 4:23 |
| Paul Ortiz | Were there institutions or organizations in the community, that brought people together during that time? | 5:35 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | The only organizations I remember in this community that I came up, was a church. There were churches, and those were the only that I can remember. And you'd go to church, you'd go to church activities, and those were the highlights of what you did. You'd go to school, you'd go to work, you'd go to church, and that's it. | 5:46 |
| Paul Ortiz | Which church did your family attend? | 6:18 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | We were Presbyterians. I was brought up in the Presbyterian church. My mother was a Methodist, but Daddy was a Presbyterian, so all the children were Presbyterians. | 6:21 |
| Paul Ortiz | And was there one Presbyterian church in town? | 6:33 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | There was one Black Presbyterian church in town and two White Presbyterian churches. | 6:42 |
| Paul Ortiz | And what was the name of the Black Presbyterian Church? | 6:48 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Oh, Tabernacle Presbyterian Church. | 6:55 |
| Paul Ortiz | And was that on the side of the town that you lived in, or on the other side of town? | 7:00 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I guess, well, it was more or less in the middle of the side of town where I was. Yeah, it was in the middle side of town. That's the best I can say it. | 7:08 |
| Paul Ortiz | In geographical terms, did you grow up on the West side, or the East side? Was the town divided up like that? | 7:24 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yes, I think it was, because we lived on North Main Street. | 7:39 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, you mentioned segregation earlier. What were the main signs and symbols of segregation? You mentioned that the Whites went their way, the Blacks went their way. | 7:47 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | You really want to know? | 8:03 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yeah. | 8:04 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Okay. Well, yes, there were always signs. Now, you could walk down the street on any side you wanted to. Or you could go any place— Well, you could go basically any place you wanted to. But I remember very well in those days, even in town, there would be two faucets that you could drink water from, and one would have Black— No, it wouldn't have, it'd have Colored and the other would have White. Well, we didn't use so much the terms Black then, but being Colored, that was the term that was used. Being Colored, you drink out of the Colored fountain and the Whites drink out of the White fountain. | 8:06 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And there were times, now, I never had this to happen to me, but I had seen it happen: if Blacks were caught drinking out of the White fountain, there would always be somebody to say, "That's not your fountain to drink out of. That's your fountain. You drink out of the Colored fountain." Now, I had seen that happen, and there were other places in town that they would have these— What do you call them? Fountains would be in different sections. And even in the courthouse, I remember in the courthouse, there's a big courthouse there, they'd have a fountain there, one for Colored, one for White. Same thing with the restroom. Now this is funny, with the restrooms, in some sections they'd have Colored and they'd have White. And there were places where they'd have Colored, and then there was another section, they'd have women and men. | 8:54 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Now you knew that the women and men was for White. There was only one restroom, Colored. That was yours, Colored. I ran into a situation like that when I came to Tuskegee, when I came to Alabama, rather. But those were some of the things, and you'd go in a section, if there was a town meeting, I guess you'd call it town meeting, where they would have it at the courthouse. You may not see a sign that said Colored, but you would be pointed, this is the section where you go, this is where you sit. | 9:55 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And the Whites are over here. But in a lot of instances, the Black and Whites were together, because in this section of Tennessee, there were very few Blacks, very few Blacks. And if you mixed in a meeting or something, there would be nothing said. Because there's so few of us here, so few Blacks, it didn't make any difference really. It didn't make any difference. But even in the stores, in the stores, oh, there was some of the most degrading things that you would see. | 10:37 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | If you'd go in the store to buy something— Now, this didn't happen in all the stores, but I do remember in some of them, you'd go in and you would be looking at something to buy, and there'd be a clerk there. They used to wait on you then, back in those days to see what you're going to buy. And if there were a White person to come up behind you or beside you, they would always wait on the White person first. And then when they waited on them, if another White person come up, they'd wait on them. And you'd be standing there, waiting to be waited on, until there would be no White people there. Then they'd wait on you. I thought that was rather degrading. But people resented that, in the places where this happened. And when it did happen, a lot of time, Blacks would walk out, they would just walk out. | 11:16 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Now, this was before the 1960s, they would walk out, and I have been with a group who had done the same thing, two or three. You'd go in the store to get something, and while you are there waiting to be waited on, and then they'd come a couple of Whites up behind you or beside you, they'd look right over you and say, "May I help you?" Or, "What can I do for you?" And we walked out. I've been with groups that did that, but there was no incidents or something. You just did it, you just did it. | 12:09 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now you do this in department stores? | 12:47 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Department stores, grocery stores, five-and-ten— We'd call them five-and-ten cents stores then. That was before Kmart and all those came about. Yeah, they did it. But I have seen other people walk out. But then the next day, you'd come back you'd get what you were going to get. And then the same thing, my daddy had worked on the railroad and he could get prices to go anywhere over the southern, for the children. And of course the trains were segregated in those days too. And you'd get on— We call them cars, you'd get in the cars, where the Colored folks sat. That's where you sit. And I don't care how crowded that car become, that's where you stayed, you didn't go to another section. Even though there'd be plenty of vacant seats in the other section, in other cars on the train. You didn't go in those sections. You just didn't. | 12:49 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And the same thing with the bus. Now, I rode the bus Tennessee Coach Line, for three years, going back and forth to work. And you were taught this thing indirectly. And when there's nobody to tell you anything any different, you don't know any different. I'd get on the bus, I'd go straight to the back, to the back seat, or the next to the back seat, because you didn't have too many people riding the bus at that particular time that I rode it, in the morning and in the afternoon. | 13:55 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | But there would be plenty seats in between and up front. So I remember one time, I wasn't going to work, I was going to visit my sister in Bristol, Tennessee. And I got on the bus that morning, and I didn't sit on the back seat. I sat about three seats from the back. And there may have been one Black on the bus other than me, I don't know. But I sat about three seats from the back and the bus was filling up with Whites. And I never will forget, this lady got on the bus and she had two kids. Now, I think there was one other Black person on that bus, but I wasn't sitting on the back seat at that time. I was sitting about three seats up from the back. And she would not sit behind me. She would not sit behind me. | 14:36 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | She would not sit beside me. She stood up and the driver came to me and asked me, would I please go to the backseat and let this lady sit with her children. And I did. I mean to me, to tell you the truth, at that particular time, it didn't matter to me. But it was just the idea, that she had these two little raunchy children and she didn't want to sit beside me, or behind me. So he asked me to move, and I moved. And she got off the bus. She got off the bus in Johnson City, Tennessee. And now the driver, I guess I'm sure he was doing his job, he came to me and told me if I would like to move up closer to the front, I could. | 15:38 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And I think I told him, I said, "That's all right. I'll sit right here." And because there were very, very few on the bus then. It had unloaded between Greeneville and Johnson City. And there was plenty seats up front. But I didn't, I told him that was all right. And I sat there until I got to Bristol. But I remember that incident. But I remember times after that, that I have sat in other places on the bus and nobody said anything. The driver didn't say anything. | 16:25 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Only that one particular time. We had City Bus, what am I talking about? This is back in the forties. We called it a City Bus in Greeneville. And it would run from one end of town to the other. And I remember when I came in from work, off of the Tennessee Coach bus. I got on the City Bus, and I think this was next to the backseat of the City Bus. And as the bus made its round, filled up with Whites. And do you know, even there in Greeneville, they did not sit beside me and they would not sit behind me. | 16:57 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And I didn't move that time. Of course, the driver didn't even ask me to move. I think the driver at that time, he felt like, "Well, if you want to sit down, you sit down. If you don't, that's all right." I mean, I think he was just that kind of a fella. He wouldn't have said anything. But I remember that. And I remember telling my daddy about that, and Daddy said, "Well, you just remember that you have a right to sit any place on that bus, as anybody else." And he said, "They expect you to go to the back." That's the way he said, "They expect you to go to the back, but you have a right to sit anywhere on that bus that you want to." And that's all Daddy ever said to me about that. | 17:56 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And my brother rode the bus back in— Well, he rode it quite a bit, when his car wasn't worth running and he would sit on the bus anywhere he wanted to. And he didn't have any incidents. But there could have been because we'd have some real ugly people get on that bus. | 18:39 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, really? | 19:07 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And you would hear the conversations that they would use. | 19:09 |
| Paul Ortiz | What kinds of things were they saying? | 19:14 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Shall I say it? You asked me for it. "I hate to get on this bus and sit beside them niggers. Them niggers don't have no business riding this bus, no way." Whatever Blacks was on there, they didn't make any remarks one way or the other. Or they'd make the remarks. "I don't like to sit with them niggers, because they stink. I don't like to sit with them dirty niggers." The people getting on that bus, you could see how they would be looking and how they would be smelling. And I don't care how well you dress, I don't care where you're going. You could be coming from church or you could be going someplace else. But they had a place there in Greeneville. Greeneville was a tobacco country. They had a place called a stemmer. You don't know anything about that, do you? | 19:18 |
| Paul Ortiz | A factory? | 20:07 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yes, tobacco stemmer. Okay. Oh, you know? All right then. So we had quite a few Blacks to work in there. But like I said, Greeneville is a small town of Blacks and it was predominantly White that worked in there. And you could tell anybody that worked in the stemmer because you smelled that tobacco, by the time they'd get 10 feet to you. So this city bus that I'm speaking of that made its round in the afternoon. Most of those people were coming from the stemmery, factory. | 20:10 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And you can imagine how they'd be smelling. Now, they didn't have any air conditioning in those stemmeries back in those days. All they could do was raise the windows, didn't even have fans, raise windows. And they wouldn't want to sit beside you. Now you'd have a few, but I'm going to tell you, these were low class Whites, that would get on that bus, that worked at the stemmery and would get on that bus. | 20:41 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And they didn't want to sit beside you. But once they get off that bus, you didn't have no incidents or anything. If you're going the same way, you go the same way. You stood up on the bus because it was the thing for you to do, it was the thing for us to do. But you would still hear these ugly remarks about, "Where did that nigger go?" Or, "Why did he come here and sit beside me?" Or, "Why did you sit beside that nigger? That sort of thing, that went on all the time. And you got to the place, sometimes you'd ignore it and then you would say, "Hey, the heck with it." Daddy always told us that, "Regardless as to what people say or do to you, you just remember that you are just as good as anybody else. You have the same rights as anybody else." | 21:08 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And he said, "I know we don't exercise them as such, but you do have the same rights as anybody else." And I think that always stuck with us, even though we did have those racial incidents. But Daddy always felt that way. And he knew too. I mean, he was well thought of. He was a very soft-spoken man and both White and Blacks respected him. He was very well respected, but it was still a segregated town. And I remember, they had drugstores in those days. And they would have a place where you could sit down, at a table and have a cold drink. And I think in some instances, in some of them, they had sandwiches, but Blacks didn't go in there and sit down and have a cold drink. You just didn't, because it was segregated and you knew that you didn't do it. | 22:01 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And if you did, I have known some to go in there and sit down and they would be asked to leave. And if you'd go in and get a cold drink, you'd go outside and drink it. You didn't sit down at the counter, or at a table and drink it. You went outside and drink it. And I worked for a lady, I used to babysit a lot. And I went in a place with her, a White lady, and she had three children. We all sat down at the same table. I will tell you the truth, I was a little reluctant. And we went in, and she told me to come on and sit down, then we're going to get some cold drinks. And I did. And we sat there and we drank, then we got up and we left. But she was well-to-do lady. So me being with her, that was all right. And those are some of the things that I remember. And you look back at just the attitude of the way some people were treated. | 23:11 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I remember once, when I first started teaching, I went to Nashville to a teacher's meeting. Now, here again, you remember, this was a Tennessee Coach line I was going on. And here again, we sat on the backseat, my sister and I. And the bus stopped for a rest stop. And I think he said he'd be there about 10 minutes, for anybody needed to use a restroom or relax a few minutes, or if they wanted to get a sandwich or something. So there's this big bus station, a lot of people got off and they said they were going to get a sandwich. My sister and I got off, and we went to the back. | 24:27 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | We mentioned something about getting a sandwich, and they said, "You have to go to the back." So we went to the back door, went in the kitchen area, where they made the sandwiches and all, got us a sandwich and we went outside, sat out there and ate it. And you just remember those kinds of incidents. And I think one of the most things that I remembered in growing up, if we'd go from one town to the other, would be these restrooms, whereas they would have men and women. And then they'd have one restroom there for Colored. And you wouldn't have too many Whites maybe going in and use them. And sometimes, you would have a group of Blacks from different areas that would come in, using one restroom, male and female. And to me that was kind of degrading, to see two restrooms there, and one. I thought that was kind of degrading. | 25:17 |
| Paul Ortiz | Would there be a lock on the door—? | 26:21 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Sometimes. | 26:22 |
| Paul Ortiz | So that you could have male and female privacy in that Colored—? | 26:25 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | No. Oh, you're talking about in the Colored? | 26:29 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yeah. | 26:32 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | No. You just had a stool and a wash basin, about that big. The whole restroom would be about as big as this table. | 26:33 |
| Paul Ortiz | So men could just walk in? | 26:41 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Oh, yes. I see what you're saying. When you go in, could you lock it? | 26:43 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yeah. | 26:47 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yeah, right. Yeah, you could do that. | 26:48 |
| Paul Ortiz | But there was just one? | 26:54 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Mm-hmm. And then another thing, if you'd go into a bus station, or train station, you'd have these segregated areas. It would be Colored, White. Colored sits over here, White sits over here. Now, the Colored space would be about as big as this. And you'd have all this space over here for Whites. Now, I don't care how crowded this got, you still packed in this one little Colored room, and all of this space over here could be scattered out, maybe two or three people over there. But you didn't go over there. That's just the way it was. And of course now, this integration thing came about in '60, but that thing was coming a long time, because there were a lot of people who got tired of this. | 26:59 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | As people began to come along and people began to grow up, they got tired of seeing this, seeing people, seeing all of this vacancy over here. And then you got this little place over here for Colored. And the same thing was in the theater. The theater, we had this little place here for Colored, and then you would have two sections for Whites. I'm not saying a balcony, but there would be two sections. There would be one whole section here. And you go downstairs and there's another whole section here for Whites. | 27:59 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And you got this little bit of balcony up here for Colored. And sometimes, when you'd get all the Coloreds together, if they wanted to go to a movie, the movie would be packed. And I don't care how packed it was, and I have seen so many Black people at a movie, until they'd have to turn some of them away, because they didn't have enough seats for them. But at the same time, there would be vacancies down here, where Whites are, but you couldn't go down there and sit. But up here, they'd turn you away, because they didn't have any seats for you. | 28:38 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And then I've seen it so packed, people would be sitting on the steps. If they really wanted to see a movie in the Black area, that's the only place you saw it, down here, totally White. And sometimes, I can't really— Well, it was just the understanding that Black, you not supposed to be down there. But in a lot of instances, like I said, there were so few Blacks. And some things you'd go to, if Blacks were put in with Whites, you wouldn't even know they were there. There were so few of them, in some instances. But it was still known that they were segregated and they did not want the Blacks here. And you didn't go there. | 29:17 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And there were times, like I said, that you would find Blacks gradually— they're just getting tired of this sort of thing. And they're getting on these buses and they're going to sit where they want to sit. And it would be kind of funny, because we always have some rowdy people, Black and White. And when the rowdy people get on this bus and they going to sit where they want to sit, and the Whites not going to say nothing to them. If they want to sit, they will sit. And it was a funny thing, you'd get some of these Blacks on the bus and you'd have one on this seat, and you'd skip a seat, and you'd have one on this seat and you'd skip a seat, and one on this seat, with that sort of thing. And now you had some Whites, Whites didn't care, because as kids and growing up, where I lived, we'd play with White kids all the time. They would either stand or they'd sit by these Blacks, when they'd be kind of scattered on the bus. | 30:07 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And sometimes, you'd find those who really didn't mind sitting beside the Blacks. And it kind of seemed like as to whether or not they're going to see their friends, if they had friends on that bus, they didn't want their friends to know that you was sitting beside a Black and they wouldn't sit beside them. It's kind of funny when you look back at things like that, to see how things happened. | 31:12 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yeah. Now you mentioned that early on, in your early childhood, segregation was something that was indirectly learned. | 31:43 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | It was taught. | 31:57 |
| Paul Ortiz | It was taught. Now who would teach it? | 31:57 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | No, there's no teacher as such. I guess you would say it's invisibly taught. Because when you start out, you had had this Black school here, and you had the White schools, you know the Blacks are going to this school. And the Whites know that they're going to this school. So they know. I mean, that's teaching segregation right there. This is what I mean, it's indirectly taught. And the same thing with the churches. | 32:00 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Now we had, I know there was two Methodist Black churches, one Presbyterian, I think two Baptist churches, and perhaps there were two other churches. I don't know what you'd call them. We call them Holiness churches, but they were Black churches. But you'd have about three, no, like I said, there was two White Presbyterian churches and there were about three White Methodist churches. And there were, oh, I'm sure about three or four White Baptist churches. | 32:36 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And I know there was one White Catholic Church. But anyway, those were Whites and Blacks just didn't go to them. They just didn't. And like I said, from generation to generation, you just didn't go there. Same thing with the school. You just didn't go, you didn't even try, until folks began to realize that— You see, when education came about, rather than to integrate these schools, they'd have a separate but equal. I don't know if you've heard that term or not. They were never equal. And that's what pushed people into integration, because these schools were never equal. | 33:21 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And I think that's what pushed a lot of Blacks in going to these White schools. They'd go to these White schools, because they knew that the Whites had everything they needed, including books and everything else. They knew that, Blacks knew that. Now, I can't say that for all the schools, because some of the White schools, they suffered too. They suffered too. But Blacks began to realize that there was nothing being put over here for Blacks, just enough to say you're separate but equal. | 34:08 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And that pushed a lot of, I think, a lot of Blacks, or some Blacks into believing, they just want to go over here and see what you've got, that we don't have. And I think that that was a part of segregation coming about. It's strange to me how the state, or the county, or the Board of Education, could see it's costing them double to have segregation, when you could have it all in one place and you got to have two of them, which means that you're going to cut something over here, and put it over here anyway, but that's costing you double. And one thing that I liked about East Tennessee, I found this out. I started teaching and I found out that the salaries were the same according to your education. There was no difference in Black and White salary. | 34:40 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | But I learned less in East Tennessee. But I learned in some other sections there was a difference in the salary. And I think there was a difference in other work, that some Blacks may have been done, according to Whites. Blacks never got paid equal as Whites. But in teaching they did, in East Tennessee. And that's why I can't understand why they would have this. It's kind of hard believe that they would have— Why you got two schools over here? You got two, one here, one here. | 35:46 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And sometimes you'd have two Whites over here, when you would take this handful of Blacks and put them over here. And that would eliminate that. They didn't see it like that. The only thing that I can think was equal, was the salary. You got paid the same according to your education. And when the kids live in a Black community and all of your associates are Black, your friends are Black, you go to the same school as Black, in a lot of instances, you don't even know what this segregation thing is, because you never, you never, you might say cross the line over here. | 36:17 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | But like I said, in some instances where we lived, I played with White kids. My brothers played with White kids, and we were the only Blacks right there. And we never had any incidents. We'd scribble and fuss, but no racial incidents. They got along well, but yet still some of these same people worked in these stemmer factories, and other factories, there's a chair factory there. And other tobacco warehouses where Whites worked. Now Blacks worked in that stemmery factory too. Some Blacks did. And they got along all right, but it was still segregated. You'd find the Blacks working here and the Whites working here. And that's just the way it was. | 37:06 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | In one instances, well, in a lot of instances you'd find, like I said, the Blacks won't know what's happening over here. You found these Whites more curious in some instances, than the Blacks, because they want to know what they doing over there. And just a matter of wanting to know. And I think that's one reason that people really pushed for segregation, because it's not so much all of this mixing, that has nothing to do with it. It's just that we want to see what you're doing, and we want to be able to do it, if we want to. That's all. Same thing with the Whites, with the Blacks. And I can tell you another thing that we did, when I was small coming up. We celebrated the 8th of August as Emancipation Day in East Tennessee. And that was a big celebration, time for Blacks. | 38:07 |
| Paul Ortiz | Really? | 39:03 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And you find some Whites celebrating the 8th of August too, because they had a good time with us, just like we did. And that was one of the biggest events that I remember. It was a great time. Blacks from throughout this whole county would get together for celebrations. And it would be picnics and perhaps ball games and other games that would play. And then they would have gifts for different one. They'd have gifts for maybe the oldest person there, or the family with the most children. And my mother always got that, because she always had the most children. And then there would be gifts for people who came from different places. And it was just an enjoyable time. But I don't— | 39:03 |
| Paul Ortiz | Do you know who organized that? | 39:58 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Churches. | 39:59 |
| Paul Ortiz | Churches? | 40:01 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Churches. Most of the organizations that you found, came about what was done was churches. And churches would have picnics, sometimes throughout the summer, different churches would. And of course, everybody would be invited to go. They'd have cars or trucks, but you'd have to pay to go. And that was interesting. And they would take trips. But here again, like I said, they'd be organized, back in those days, by the churches. Now as I grew up and was leaving Greeneville, they formed what was known as a civic organization. And it was mostly among the Black women. They had a civics organization. And they had done quite a bit in recreation, because there was no recreation there for Blacks. And then they began to have different things for Blacks. | 40:02 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | But like I said, that's when I grew up. And I remember when I was small, there was a golf course. Well, this is way over in the town, although it was all there in Greeneville. And there was a golf course, I didn't even know what golf was. And there was a swimming pool, a big swimming pool. And I didn't know it was there either. And somebody had mentioned about this golf course, and I knew it was played with a ball, but that was about all. And Daddy said, "Well, that's where the White folks play golf. That's where they play golf." Daddy knew about this swimming pool and he said, "They have this swimming pool there, but nobody swims in it." It was run by the city. Now this was run by the city, but it was segregated. | 41:32 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Blacks didn't go to that swimming pool. But I never will forget, Daddy said, "Any Blacks who want to go swimming in that swimming pool can, because the tax money is paying for it." And I remember on the 8th of August, I was telling you about, we celebrate the 8th of August as Emancipation Day. And we went to a place called, I forget the name of this place. But anyway, it was a White recreation place and they rented it out to Blacks for the 8th of August. And Blacks in that section could come. | 42:27 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And they had this big swimming pool and they had this recreation building. And we went, and Daddy said, "Why do Blacks want to go all the way there, to celebrate or to swim, when you got a swimming pool right over there in town?" And somebody said, "Well, that's for Whites." And Daddy said, "It don't make no difference. Our tax money is paying for it just like anybody else's. Because the tax money from the city is paying for it." And he said, "If they want to go, all they got to do is just to go." | 43:04 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | But nobody ever listened to anything like that. Daddy talked a lot, but he was not pushy. He knew a lot what was going on, but he was not pushy. And he said, "If anybody wanted to go there, they could go." But I don't think anybody ever went over there. I don't think they did. Not to my knowledge. But that was the only swimming pool they had there. But back to this Black women's civil organization, they built a pool. They built a pool on, I think a part of the school ground. The school ground was run by the city. And I think they let them build a pool there. | 43:34 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, really? | 44:17 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | This organization, mm-hmm, a swimming pool. | 44:18 |
| Paul Ortiz | For Black people? | 44:20 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Mm-hmm. For Blacks. | 44:21 |
| Paul Ortiz | And that would've been about the time that you were a teenager? | 44:22 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | No, I had just crossed teenage line. I was leaving then. I was leaving Greeneville then, when that organization came about. I was ready to leave Greeneville then. But when I was coming up, no, we didn't have no swimming pool. We didn't have no recreation. We had a good time playing. But as far as recreation goes, we didn't have any. And I look at that sometimes. The Blacks would just visit each other as children. And our main thing was, we played ball. It's softball, baseball, and we even played some volleyball and another thing, we played croquet. I think that's what it is, croquet. | 44:29 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | We had a croquet set and we had a basketball, but no goal to put it in. So we played that a lot, and rode bicycles and skates. It was a joyous time, when I think about it. We used to go skating with my girlfriends. | 45:19 |
| Paul Ortiz | Was there a skating rink? | 45:45 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | No, not then. You'd just skate on the sidewalk. That was it. There was no skating rink for Blacks or White at that time. But as I grew up, when I grew up, I think I had finished high school then, there was a skating rink put in. Now I didn't know too much about the skating rink, but seemed to me like Blacks and Whites could go on that skating rink. As far as I can remember. I didn't know much about it, because at that time I was getting ready to leave Greeneville. But they did put a skating rink up there. I think Blacks and White both skated on there. I think a lot of— | 45:46 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Now, Blacks may have been driven out of that swimming pool. If they tried to swim in it, there would've been some Whites who would've probably, to tell you the truth, they probably would've killed them some, and then there probably would've been others who wouldn't even care, and this is the way I say that segregation is taught, indirectly, by this sort of thing. And then a lot of it, a lot of integration came about, but people just take an initiative to just to go on and do. | 0:00 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, you said even before the sixties there were Black people who were just beginning to be fed up. | 0:34 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | That's right. | 0:43 |
| Paul Ortiz | And in what way? What would they do? Would they challenge? Were there individual challenges? | 0:45 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, I remember, I don't believe I was home at this time, but I remember there was some Black boys, they weren't really rowdy, but you would think they were more of the rowdy type. They went into this restaurant and they sat down to eat, and they knew the White kids that worked there. They were young, they knew the White kids that worked there, and they told them they were coming in there to eat and the White kids didn't believe them, so these Black boys went in there to eat and then they told them they couldn't serve them. They told them they wasn't going to leave until they serve them. They did that through fun, but I'm saying just little things like this began to happen. Yeah, it began to happen. This thing didn't happen all at once, this segregation, this integration thing didn't happen all at once. | 0:50 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And just like I said, you know, with riding on the bus, that wasn't just with me or with other people because other Blacks rode the bus too. They saw this thing, and like I said, people were getting fed up of it, they were getting fed up, and then when they began to have these marches and these demonstrations, sure enough, people were fed up and they began to realize that this was their rights as well as anybody else's, and frankly, I can't see what people would fight against that. But now, I remember back in the forties, I worked in a private home, and a lot of this was talked about, integration, and I worked in this family and this lady's husband was on the Board of Education, and he was a doctor, he was a dentist, and this lady had talked to her sister-in-law about what they had talked about in their meeting and she said they were talking about integrating the schools then. | 1:46 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Now, this was back in the fifties, and she said, this lady told me, she said, "Now, I don't see anything wrong with integrating the schools." She said, "I think Black and Whites ought to be able to go to school together if they want to." She said, "But now I tell you one thing, I wouldn't want my daughter to marry your nephew." I said— I didn't say anything. And she said, "Now, would you want your nephew to marry my daughter?" I said, "Ms. McGuffin, I don't know. I don't know nothing about that." | 3:01 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And really, she was coming on with me because of the conversation that she had had with her husband, and they were very liberal, and she said, "I don't think it's right for Black and White to marry." She said, "But as far as going to school together and socializing together, anything else that they want to do." She said, "I don't see anything wrong with that." I said, "No." She left me. She's like, "Do you?" At that time, I said, "No," and I left it that. I said, "No." | 3:33 |
| Paul Ortiz | And you were working in her home? | 4:01 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yes. This was a White lady, and very liberal people. | 4:04 |
| Paul Ortiz | Would she frequently sound you out on those kinds of issues or? | 4:11 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Occasionally, but now, even though they were just as good as they could be, and they were liberal, they were segregated. They believed in segregation. By her saying that she didn't want her daughter to marry my nephew, that let me know right there that she believed in this segregation thing, but she was just as nice to me as she could be, she and her husband both. As far as treating people, as you might see right, and treating people nice, you wouldn't find any nicer people. We had some nice White people. | 4:18 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, we call them good people because when you see what some other Whites wouldn't do for Blacks, you had some Whites wouldn't— Now, even though this was a segregated town and we got along well together, you still had those Whites who would not move a foot to help Blacks, they would not move a foot, but yet still, they got along all right. And then again, you had the Whites, some Whites over here who would do anything they could for Blacks. And when it come to, oh, how can I say that? | 5:06 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Just like, well, one lady I was working with, we went into this drug store and we sat down and we had a drink together. Now, they were very nice, very liberal people, and she and her family would've done anything for Blacks, and I think there were a lot of Whites like that because if it wasn't, when this marching thing came about, all over the country, you wouldn't have had the integration coming about as it did if you didn't have some liberal Whites over here, as we call them, some good Whites, and they just showed what they could do, but it did come about. And then, of course, you had those others who would, like I said, they wouldn't dare have you come across this line. Did you see the movie, Mississippi Burning? | 5:48 |
| Paul Ortiz | I haven't seen it. | 6:42 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Played the other night on TV. It has, It's an old movie. It came out about 10 years ago, I guess. It points a true picture as to how Blacks were treated. And you've had, now, you don't get me wrong, you've had some radical Blacks in here who would not do— Where you had those kind who would do— They would not do anything for Whites. If they thought they're doing this for Whites, they wouldn't do it, unless they had a job. If they had a job and that depend on it, they would do it. And then again, you had these Blacks over here who would do anything they could for Whites. It's just that they knew that this segregation thing was, I guess like Governor Wallace said, you know, it's a law. It really wasn't a law, but they made it a law. They made it within themselves that it was a law, but it took Blacks a long time to realize that they could do— | 6:42 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | They could go places where they wanted to go. They could sit in places where they wanted to sit, and they could attend school, they could even go to churches. Anywhere they wanted to, as well as Whites. It was only that they wanted to be treated, you might say equal, and do the things that normal people would do, because really and truly, I think Blacks were not treated as normal people. In fact, I know they weren't treated as normal people. And I don't care if you had the Blacks out here, taking my town, in Tennessee, if you had the Whites out here in the rural area, and you had Blacks here in town. Now, when those Whites would come to town, they could be as illiterate as all put out, but they would not sit or stand or eat with a Black, and the only thing they could go by would be your color because they couldn't read. | 8:02 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | They didn't know where it said color, the White, they wouldn't know, and, of course, you had some Blacks the same way, and that's why I keep saying that this segregation thing was taught indirectly. And even now, there is a tendency to be segregated because you go into a gathering, you're going to find the Blacks gathering over here, and you're going to find the Whites gathering over here, watch it, if you haven't been in that situation, but anyway, that's the story of my life as far as segregation goes, but it was an interesting life. | 9:12 |
| Paul Ortiz | What was your early family life like? | 9:51 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | My immediate family? | 9:57 |
| Paul Ortiz | Your immediate family. | 9:58 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | My immediate family. Well, like I said, I had— There were seven girls and five boys. Okay. My baby brother died when he was 18 months old, and well, like I said, Mother was always at home and Daddy was always at work, and we went to school. Well, when we got up big enough to work, the only work that we had to do, or that was available for us to do, was to even babysit for a White family, or cook for a White family, keep house, to be a butler or a gardener, or to keep up the yard. Now, those were the jobs that you had. As far as I know, there were no others, unless in this segregated Black school, we had teachers who were qualified, well-qualified, and that's the kind of work we did as children coming up. I start babysitting, I think, when I was 12, and then I would go to a lady's house and I would clean up her house. And you're talking about the pay, they had good pay. You know how much they pay? 10 cents an hour. | 9:59 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And it was funny because— Well, I look at it as being funny. Now, Daddy was never for anything like that because he said, "If you are going to work for people, you're supposed to get paid." Now, he didn't know. He couldn't set no price. He didn't know any price to pay, he said. But he knew 10 cents an hour wasn't no money, but if you got a dime, then you work for it, and that's what you got, but as time went on, you get 15 cents. I remember a few years later, you get 15 cents an hour, and then a lot of this was done by the job. If you go work, if you go clean the house, lady tell you she going to give you $2 to clean a house. You go, you know you're going to get $2. You clean it in an hour or two hours, however how long, and then gradually pay become better because people felt that if they wanted, I shouldn't say this, if they wanted quality Black help, you're going to have to pay for it, and so pay began— | 11:31 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | They began to pay better, and by that time, I was ready to leave Greeneville, but that was what you had mostly among the Blacks. In coming up as a child that I did, I worked in private homes to babysit and to clean house, and sometime it went on for a while, like I said, for 10 cents an hour, and then they paid by the job, which I thought was better. I'd rather be paid by the job than the hour. And it didn't make enough to buy you a pair of socks, but that's all you get. You just have to save it until you could do better. And then too, there was some other people who were willing to pay a little more than that. And as I said, as time went on, they did pay more. And that's basically as what it was like. | 12:41 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Everybody in my family worked, and that's what we worked. My brothers, they would mow lawns during the summer, and even I— My two younger brothers, they would help clean house sometime. People who need house cleaning, they would help clean house, and those kind of chores that my brothers would do. And of course, my sisters, like me, they had a job, keeping children or keeping house or cooking. Those were basically the jobs you had in those days. | 13:43 |
| Paul Ortiz | Did your grandparents live in Greeneville? | 14:23 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | They did, but they died. I can't tell you much about them. I don't know about them, nothing, but my grandmother, my mother's mother, and she died, I think, when I was down in elementary school, so I didn't know much about her. But as far as my grandfather on my father's side, he was a farmer. As far as I know, I'm sure he was a farmer. And my grandmother, excuse me, on my mother's side, like I said, she died when I was in elementary school. She worked in a home. She cooked, she was a cook in a home, but my grandmother on my daddy's side, she didn't work, she stayed at home, but that was before my time. I didn't know her and didn't know my grandfather. They died. They both passed before I was born. | 14:28 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, in your immediate family, who would be responsible for, say, financial or the budgeting decisions, mechanics of the household? | 15:28 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, Daddy was the only source of income, but Mother had to really budget to see where the dollars were going because he didn't make all that much on the railroad, but Mother was the one who had to really budget to see where the dollar was going and where it was needed. Mother was the one that really took care of that. And of course, there was things that Mother and Daddy would talk about, what they needed for the house or what needed to be done, and they would discuss that together and they would decide, but Mother was the one who— Now, I said, we lived on the outskirts of town. Now, Daddy also raised pigs, or hogs you'd call them, and we always had meat. That was for the family. We always had two cows, and he would raise hogs and that would be our meat. | 15:44 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | We'd have, like I said, he had the gardens, we had our vegetables, we had cherry arches. Cherries were very prominent in East Tennessee. And we had a few other trees, peach trees, pear trees, plum trees, and Mother did a lot of canning. She did a lot of canning. And with the garden and with her canning and whatnot, it kept her busy throughout the year, and that's the one thing that I can remember most. We never had to work for any fruits or vegetables or jellying preserves and things like that. Now, we go to the store and buy. Mother always made it. She did a lot of canning. And as we came along, we helped to do that. We'd go berry picking, pick berries, blackberries, dewberries and strawberries, and then we had, Daddy had the cherry arches. We'd go pick cherries, and we had pear trees and apple trees, plum trees, and Mother would always— | 16:42 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | No, we sold cherries, some cherries. And when we'd have enough milk, it's a funny thing, with these two cows, Mother had plenty of milk for the family and she had milk to sell, and people would buy milk. They would buy sweet milk and buttermilk. Now, people in the community love my mother's buttermilk and they would buy her butter, so Mother would sell buttermilk and sometimes sweet milk, and butter, and that always gave her a little change. Whereas when you come up short, she'd have a little change for something. And Daddy would raise hogs. [indistinct 00:18:42] talked out. He would sell hogs, but he would always keep about four to the butcher for the family, and that's where we had our pork, and we had our milk. I don't remember Daddy ever killing a cow. We only had kept that for milk and for butter, and we had plenty of it. | 17:57 |
| Paul Ortiz | Who would take care of the discipline? | 19:15 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Both of them. Mother would, you might say during the day or during the run of the day, and Daddy was, oh, he was a strict disciplinarian. You didn't defy him one way or the other because when he spoke, that's all he had to do. All he— Sometimes I think when he was thinking, you knew what he was thinking, but they both were very strict disciplinarian. And I know a lot of times of things that we would want to do or places we want to go, we'd go to Mother and ask Mother, and Mother would say, "Ask your Daddy." And sometimes we would have to ask Daddy to get Daddy's approval, but they were together on it. I think Mother knew whether, she would be skeptical sometimes in knowing whether or not Daddy would approve something, and if she thought for one minute, he didn't approve it, she wouldn't approve it. | 19:23 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And then you know how you can be as children, you can get persistent and you say, "Mother, will you ask Daddy for me?" Mother has already said what she thought, and then she'll tell you that you'll just have to ask your Daddy. And then Mother, we go back to Mother, "Will you ask Daddy for me?" Because we already felt that Daddy going to say no, but if she ask him, he might would say yes in a lot of instances, but they were usually together. If Daddy said no, we knew it was no, and Mother too. And Mother said, no, we knew it was no, but she was more, a little bit easier in siding with you. | 20:34 |
| Paul Ortiz | Where would she do her shopping? | 21:22 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | We had a section in—we had a town—in town. We had a— There was town, and then there was a grocery store about, it wasn't even a block from us, it was just across the street from us, really. It was a little grocery store and we did most of our grocery shopping there. It was owned by a White guy and he was very nice, but Mother never got stuff on credit, she didn't believe in that. She believed that if one of you get, you're supposed to pay for it, and Daddy did too. If you couldn't afford it, you left it alone, but Mother did the grocery shopping, and she would go to this, this was a grocery, and she would go there. Sometimes she would send us, and sometimes she would send Daddy, Daddy would go, because Daddy loved to go to the store. That was his gathering place. | 21:30 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | It was a country store, right? I guess you'd say, and people would just come and sit and talk and Daddy enjoyed that, and he would be there a lot. And I forget this man's name. His name was Bill, Bill Woods. We call him Mr. Bill. Mr. Bill would always send us a bag of candy when Mother would go shopping, he'd send us. He knew that Daddy had all these children and he would send us a bag of candy, and we look forward to it, and there might be sometimes that he didn't wait on Daddy. His wife worked in there, and sometimes I think his daughter would help. | 22:36 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | They wouldn't put the bag of candy in there. We'd be looking for that bag of candy, and sometimes when Daddy would go to the store, if he remember that he didn't send a bag of candy, he would give Daddy a bag of candy to bring back to the house for the children. He didn't have to do that, but he did. I thought that was very nice of him. He seemed to have thought a lot of us, and I guess we thought a lot of him too. And now, that was for the groceries, but anything else, Mother never went shopping much but she would go to town and shop. And when she— We lived about two miles from town, and Mother would get a taxi and go to town, and she'd get a taxi and come back. At that time, when I was a little girl, the buses wasn't running. We didn't have city buses, so Mother would go— She'd get a taxi and go to town, get a taxi and come back, but that didn't happen often. | 23:21 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Mother didn't go unless she— Christmas, go shopping for us for Christmas, go to town. She did that kind of shopping. And if we needed— And then usually towards the close of school. Schools have changed. We always had closing school programs, and some of us were always in programs and we always had to have a new pair of shoes or something like that, but we'd go to town, Mother take us to town and get it. Those were interesting days. | 24:22 |
| Paul Ortiz | What would happen if a member of the family took ill or got sick? What would be the kind of medical care in Greeneville that you had access to? | 25:03 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, at that time, you had family doctors, and doctors made house calls. So we didn't have a telephone when I was a little girl, but there was a phone at the store across the street. If we needed a doctor to come to the house, Mother would either go to the store and call or she would send one of the children to the store to call the doctor, and he would tell us that he would be right out or he'd tell us when he would be out. And we had a hospital there. We had two hospitals at that time. We had Greeneville Hospital and we had Tacoma Hospital, which was a Seven Day Adventist hospital, but we— Don't remember anybody having to go to the hos— Oh yes, I do. My sister got sick. | 25:19 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | My sister got sick when I was in high school, my last year in high school, and the doctor came. Mother called the doctor, doctor came to see her, and he recommended that she go to the hospital, so Mother took her to the hospital and they kept her, but she died. She was in the hospital about four days, about a week, I guess, and she died. She had poisoned kidneys. That was my senior year, I believe, in high school, but now I had another sister to die when I was in elementary school and she was a sophomore in college, but she had gone— Mother had sent her to Virginia to school and she died with bronchopneumonia. She had pneumonia. And as far as our other medical thing, we had family doctor. We'd call him or either go to see— He had an office. We'd call him. If Mother needed him to come to the house, and he'd come, or if we were sick with something or hurt or something, we'd go see him. | 26:18 |
| Paul Ortiz | Would this have been a White doctor? | 27:45 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yes. Well, at that time, there were no Black doctors in Greeneville, no Black doctors. Maybe I shouldn't say this, but the only prominent Black people you had were preachers and teachers. Now, that didn't mean that we didn't have other good people. | 27:47 |
| Paul Ortiz | In terms of providence. | 28:04 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yes. | 28:08 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, during your high school years, did you have favorite subjects or aspirations? A career where you're beginning to think about, I would like to be a [indistinct 00:28:29]. | 28:12 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | One thing I liked to do when I was a little girl, I used to love to wash my sister's hair, and I wanted to be a beautician. That's what I wanted to be. That was my ambition. And even when I finished high school, that's what I wanted to be, was a beautician, but Mother didn't want me to be a beautician. She said she didn't think that was the kind of life that I need to live, and I said, "Mother, there will always be a job for me if I be a beautician." And she said, "Yes." She said, "But you just think about it." She said, "When you think about beautician, you are basically thinking about dressing hair and washing and dressing hair." And she said, "I just wouldn't want you being over somebody's head all the time." She said, "You could have, People can have all kinds of diseases and things wrong with their head and you'd be inhaling all of that." | 28:30 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And she says, "I just don't think that's the thing for you." Anyway, she talked me out of it. And my sister wanted me to take business when I went off to school, when I was ready, getting ready to go off to school, but Daddy didn't want me to take business. Now, he didn't want me to take business, and in a sense, I could understand both of my parents' point. Daddy said, "When you finish school, you are going to have to work and you need to take something where you can get a job." And he said, "Around here in Greeneville—" He didn't see me leaving. He couldn't foresee me leaving. He said, "Around here in Greeneville, where are you going to get a job as a secretary or any kind of a business job, or working in a store?" You didn't even have any Blacks working in stores in those days. | 29:23 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And I got to thinking about that. I knew I was going to have to work, and I knew I wasn't going back to babysitting, and Daddy said, "I think you better take education because you can get a job teaching." And I said, "I always liked to work with children." And I said, 'Well, that's no problem with me. I'll go out to school and I'll take education." And so I did. And my mother— Now, even though, by this time my daddy had retired, and in working on the railroad and having these children to take care of, there wasn't too much coming in, and I didn't know how I was going to college, but I had— Like I said, when I was 12 years old, I started working in private homes, and that gave— If I made— Mother always said, "If you make a dime, you should save a nickel. Whatever you make, you should save half of it. | 30:16 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | So, at the end of the month, every month, I had counted my dimes and my quarters and 50 cents that I had worked for, and I would put almost all of it in the bank. No, I didn't put it in the bank, I put it in post office. That's where my savings went. In those days, you could have a savings account at the post office, and I put my little bit in the post office. So I knew I was going off the school. I didn't know what I was going to take. I didn't know where I was going. I was going to a beauty culture school, so I thought. But anyway, Daddy said he thought I should take education because I could get a job somewhere in Tennessee, if not, in Greene County, someplace in Tennessee, teaching. | 31:17 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | So I took, this was a junior college I went to and that's what I took. And it took my little pennies that I had saved, all I had saved, and at that time, my brothers— That was just before World War II, 1942. No, this was right after World War, during World War II. What am I trying to say? And two of my brothers went into the service. They were drafted into the Navy, two of my brothers, and they sent Mother money every month. And that's how I got to go to junior college because they sent Mother money and Mother would save some of that money so I would have enough to go to college. And because Daddy, like I said, he was retired. He wasn't making, he would make enough to buy some bread and some grains to go in the field, but that's how I got to go to junior college, through them helping me. | 32:03 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And my mother took ill, she had a stroke, but my brother still sent money for those two years that I was in school and I was able to finish school. As soon as I got out of a junior college, my sister, who was already teaching in one of the county schools, moved, decided to go to another county to teach, and this— You remember me telling you that I worked for this White family who was a doctor, who was also a member of the Board of Education? So when I got out of school, he was a nice person to talk to, plus Daddy was political-minded too. He did on the, he dealt with, he supported the political arena, I'd say. | 33:10 |
| Paul Ortiz | Did he vote? | 34:05 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Did he what? | 34:07 |
| Paul Ortiz | Did he vote? | 34:07 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yes. All of us vote. Now, well, this is getting back to something else. No, I don't ever remember anybody in that section of Tennessee having problems to vote, White or Black. Blacks didn't have no problem voting. There was no— The only problem they had, now, Daddy would work with politics in getting Blacks to vote, to come to register to vote, then no problem, all you got to do is go register to vote, and Daddy was very instrumental in getting a lot of Blacks to vote, Whites too, because you come up, and at that time, at the age of 18, you can vote. And a lot of Whites and Blacks, they didn't think nothing about voting, but Daddy knew people. He got around and he knew people, and he would get them to come to register to vote, Black and White, no problem. | 34:08 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | All they had to do was just to go there and register to vote and whatever you do to sign your, All they had to do. All I remember doing was signing my name, my birthdate, and where I live, my address, and that sort of thing. To my knowledge, that's all I did, and that's— Then you go to vote. | 35:01 |
| Paul Ortiz | So you registered in Greeneville? | 35:26 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | At a age of 18. | 35:29 |
| Paul Ortiz | Age of 18. | 35:30 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yeah. And when you get ready to vote, you go to vote. Whatever party you're going to vote for, you go vote, and there was no problem. | 35:32 |
| Paul Ortiz | Who would you vote for in those years when you were 18? Was that a presidential election or? | 35:45 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, any election, presidential election, or county elections, state election. What party? What did you say? I'm sorry. | 35:52 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yeah. When you started voting, were you voting Republican, Democrat, or back and forth or? | 36:01 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | My daddy was strictly a Republican and we all voted Republican. That's what we did. I was never a Democrat till I came to Alabama. It didn't really change me. I really haven't changed, but I vote to Democratic now. But at home in Greeneville, my daddy was strictly a Republican. He believed in it and he got all of his children to believe in it, and that's what we voted. | 36:10 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And because, whether you're a Democrat or a Republican, you've got some good and you've got some bad, and you can point out the good, you can point out the bad, so Daddy always tried to find the good in people. And if there was a Republican that he was— Now, these Republicans always, they searched out for my father to get his support. Now, don't you think Democrats didn't try to get him too? They did, but they didn't get him. If he believed in you and he wanted to support you, he would encourage all of these people that he had encouraged to become registered voters to vote for you, and that was quite a thing. | 36:46 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Now, but like I said, you need to— But remember, we didn't have but a handful of Blacks, and he would encourage them the best he could to get them to vote Republican. Of course, some of them would, some of them wouldn't vote at all, and some of them would vote Democrat, but Daddy was strictly a Republican. | 37:33 |
| Paul Ortiz | I see. Which junior college did you go to? | 37:53 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I went to Swift Memorial Junior College in Rogersville, Tennessee, which was a Presbyterian school. And in those days, if you were in elementary education, you could teach on the elementary level if you finish junior college. | 37:59 |
| Paul Ortiz | And so you finished there and you came back to Greeneville to teach? | 38:28 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yes, I did. | 38:32 |
| Paul Ortiz | And do, What year did you graduate? | 38:34 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | From junior college? | 38:37 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yeah. | 38:38 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Oh, I'll speculate. I believe that was in '46. | 38:42 |
| Paul Ortiz | Okay. | 38:44 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | '46. | 38:46 |
| Paul Ortiz | Shortly after World War II. So now, how did you come to Tuskegee? | 38:47 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, you see, I said, if you had finished junior college, you could teach on the elementary level, but the state had a ruling, a ruling came out, and I don't think this was just the state of Tennessee. I think that ruling could have been all over. It was spreading all over the country that if you were going to teach, you got to have a degree, a BS degree, but they would give you time to get it. If you're teaching on junior college level, they'd give you time to get a degree. You could continue to teach, providing you work toward a degree. So when that came out, I said, "I'm going. I know I got to go back to school if I'm going to teach." And at that time I said, "I don't know if I'm going to teach the rest of my life, but I'm going to get my degree." | 39:00 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | So I came down here, I taught two years, and I came down here to go to summer school that summer, and that's where I met John Brown, and we had the same classes together, and we had an interesting time that summer. And then I left at the end of summer school and went back to Tennessee to teach another year. And we correspond, and we got married in that March, that following March. | 39:58 |
| Paul Ortiz | '48. | 40:38 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | No, that was '50 then. | 40:38 |
| Paul Ortiz | '50. | 40:39 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Remember now, I taught three years in Tennessee before I came. Before I was married. | 40:39 |
| Paul Ortiz | And so you came to Tuskegee Institute in the Education program? | 40:47 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Right. Really, I came here in '49. Let me see. I came here to school in '49, because we were married in '50, and I finished out that year of teaching in Tennessee and then I came here and started going back to school again. And then I started my family and I found out that, well, I could go to school during the summer and pick up a couple of subjects, a few credits, and that's what I did, picked till I got my degree. | 40:53 |
| Paul Ortiz | Was it the prestige of the education program that brought you to Tuskegee or was it a personal contact? | 41:33 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I think it was, what brought me to Tuskegee? | 41:39 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yeah. | 41:45 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I had a sister who came here one summer to school. She had finished junior college and she was teaching, and she came here one summer to summer school, and of course, everybody, well, I won't say everybody, but most Blacks back in those days knew about Tuskegee. You knew about Tuskegee Institute at that time, and you knew about Booker T. Washington and George Washington Carver. Those were the prominent Black people you heard about if nobody else. So when my sister came here to school, she enjoyed her stay here. She came one summer, and we had talked about it. Her coming, I say, "I think I would like to go to Tuskegee." And I had other schools that I had thought about. My older sister went to Tennessee State University. Well, it was Tennessee State then and wanted me to go to Tennessee State. | 41:46 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | For some reason, I didn't want to go to Tennessee State. I don't know why, I just didn't, but Tuskegee Institute, I had heard about Tuskegee Institute and my sister having been here to go to summer school was what I wanted. And I thought, Booker T. Washington, George Washington Carver was— I guessed, in my opinion, they were just what was happening, and I wanted to come to Tuskegee, so I did. I came that summer, like I said, and that's where I met my husband, and we had the same classes together, and we got married in '50, March of '50. | 42:52 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, where was he coming from? | 43:36 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | He had just gotten out of service, but he was kind of a roundabout story. He was originally from Mississippi, and his family moved to Detroit during World War II, and he went on into service. And when he got out of service, he came to Tuskegee to school. | 43:38 |
| Paul Ortiz | On the GI Bill. | 43:57 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yes. | 43:57 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, where did you, when you first came to Tuskegee, decided to actually to settle down here, where did you first live? | 44:07 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Where did we live? | 44:19 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yeah. | 44:20 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, I tell you where we lived. We lived in what was known as the Veterans Project. | 44:22 |
| Paul Ortiz | Veterans Project. | 44:28 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | That's where, well, I understand that's where, those veteran projects were built on the Tuskegee Institute's ground, and I understand that's where they had a lot of people to come here during World War II, and to work. They had an air base out here, they had an air base here, to work at the air base or to work at the institution, and there were a lot, they were veterans, and then when the veterans came to school, they had a place to stay, to go to school, and it was called the Veterans Project, and that's where we stayed. | 44:35 |
| Paul Ortiz | Was there a, oh, was that called? Washington Court or something. | 45:21 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | No. They had a Washington Project. | 45:28 |
| Paul Ortiz | Okay. Oh, that was a different one? | 45:28 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | They were similar. The same. Now, they were the same. Now, I don't know why they got Veteran Project and Washington Project. | 45:28 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, so they're in the same area? | 45:30 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yeah, right there together. I think maybe, primarily, veterans stayed in the Veterans Project, and in the Washington Project, they had students and then persons who worked for the institution, and then at the VA, stayed in the Washington Project. Of course, some of them stayed in the Veteran Project too because most of them were veterans. The males especially were veterans. | 45:42 |
| Paul Ortiz | I see. | 46:08 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Now, that was during that time, but now, they also have a New Washington Project over here, but it came about from Washington Chapel Church. That happened about 15 years ago, 10-15 years ago, but that doesn't, that's not the Washington Project that I'm talking about. | 46:12 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, you and your husband, you originally, the first place you lived at was the Veterans Projects? | 0:04 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Right. | 0:10 |
| Paul Ortiz | And were you both at that time beginning to teach here? | 0:11 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | No. We both were in school. My husband finished. He got his BS degree that summer, and then he got a job teaching in Macon County at a place called Prairie Farms. | 0:19 |
| Paul Ortiz | Prairie Farms? | 0:35 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Mm-hmm. And I was going to school, and he taught there, I think, for 15 years, 14 or 15 years. And I would go— See, I was having children in between this time, and I would go to school during the semester. No, Tuskegee was on a quarter basis then. And I would go to school during the summer, and maybe a quarter, until I finally got my BS. That's what I did. | 0:38 |
| Paul Ortiz | Mrs. Brown, during those years in Tuskegee, was there a sense that there were different parts of town that people live in? I guess different neighborhoods, different—? | 1:20 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | During that time? | 1:36 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yes. 1950, or—? | 1:37 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | The people lived in Tuskegee during that time, the area that they lived in, this is back in the early fifties, right? | 1:42 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yes. | 1:49 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | That's bad, but I can't say. I don't know. | 1:57 |
| Paul Ortiz | Because some people, I just started to hear about different areas. Like people have mentioned Green Fork, Rockefeller— | 1:59 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Rockefeller Hill. | 2:09 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yes. | 2:10 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | All right. Yes. It seemed to been around here close that they lived in a place called, well, Green Fork. Green Fork is in this area, in, I'm saying kind of this area. And there's a place called Greenwood. Greenwood, which is kind of over here in another section. Greenwood. | 2:10 |
| Paul Ortiz | And that's closer to the Institute? | 2:29 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yes, it is. | 2:30 |
| Paul Ortiz | Okay. | 2:31 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And then there was a place called, there's a street called Bibb Street, but I don't know what section. It's close to the campus. I don't know what you'd call it, where a lot of people who worked at the Institute and the VA lived, in that particular area. But other sections at that time, seemed to me, was scattered out. Now, in this section right here, there may have been one or two houses right here in this section, but that's all. And to see how things have changed, how things have built up, we have another section of town, two, three other sections of town, people have just built houses. Houses. I was telling you about houses, about the only thing that goes here. And, oh, they have some beautiful mansions around in some sections now, but at that time, at that time, no, they were not there. | 2:32 |
| Paul Ortiz | I see. Now, what would have been there where those mansions were? Now, that's around the lakefront. What—? | 3:40 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, you might see that. What was there? | 3:52 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yeah. | 3:53 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Nothing. | 3:54 |
| Paul Ortiz | Nothing? | 3:54 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | No trees. Well, yeah. Trees. Trees. Trees and wooded areas. And that's as far as I know. | 3:56 |
| Paul Ortiz | Okay. So where was your next stop, you and your husband, in terms of living? You were living in the Veterans Project, and now what came next? | 4:06 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Where did I go next? | 4:21 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yeah. | 4:22 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Okay. Now, there was the Veterans Project, and right here from the Veteran Project was known as the Washington Project. And that's where we moved. From the Veteran Project to the Washington Project. | 4:22 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, were both of these privately-owned? | 4:35 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | They were owned, like I said, the land was owned by Tuskegee Institute, and the houses, they were owned by the government. So Tuskegee Institute wanted their land, so the government had to sell the houses. They sold the houses. | 4:38 |
| Paul Ortiz | I see. And then the Washington Project, was there any particular reason that you moved from the Veterans Project to the Washington's Project? Was that—? | 4:55 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, yes. One reason. The main reason was, we didn't have gas heat in the Veterans Project. Now, that was one of my main reasons. We had to have wood heat or coal heat that we was heated by. And we didn't stay there long. We didn't stay there long. We stayed there about seven, eight months, six months, something like that. And we moved to the Washington Project. Washington Project had gas heat and gas stove. And that was a big change. | 5:07 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, was it crowded? Were there crowded conditions, say, at the Veterans Project? | 5:46 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yeah. You got to get on a waiting list, and you would stay on the people who were in charge, and you'd put your name on the waiting list. Because people that worked in this area, you had students living in those projects, and you had people who worked in this area living in those projects. So students, when they'd finished, they'd be leaving. And sometimes people who had jobs would get jobs maybe other places, and they would be leaving. So for that reason, you had people coming and going, and you had to get on a waiting list, until you could get— And that's what happened to us. That was the main reason we lived in the Veteran Project, because we had to be on the waiting list for the Washington Project. | 5:51 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, I see. | 6:40 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And we got there, and then we stayed in the Washington Project for, I guess, about two years. Let's see. Three years. Three years. And we moved in a house on the other end of town, which is over on Gautier Street. Was it Gautier Street? Yeah. Gautier Street, which is across town from the campus. | 6:43 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, I see. Oh, that's on the other side of campus. Is that on Montgomery Highway? | 7:04 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | No. Oh, well, yes. Across the highway. I'll point to it. | 7:18 |
| Paul Ortiz | Okay. | 7:18 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | It's back over that way. You know where the downtown area is? | 7:19 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yeah. | 7:24 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Okay. It's back from the downtown area. Gautier Street. | 7:25 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, okay. It's like on the way out to Highway 81, or on that side, or, I was told— | 7:30 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | 81. Oh, yeah, it's on the other side of Highway 80. | 7:41 |
| Paul Ortiz | Okay. And then this was your first house? | 7:48 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, in the Washington Project, they had houses, individual houses. We lived in a house in the Washington Project. And yeah, this was a house we lived in over there on Gautier Street. I didn't tell you this. I never wanted to live in Alabama, but I told my husband, "We're not going to live here." He had put down a payment on a house here in Tuskegee, and I said, "This is not my thing. I never wanted to live in Tuskegee." But as time went on, this is about five years later, I said, "If we're going to live here, we might as well have a house rather than pay rent. It doesn't make sense." Because he was teaching then, and he did go back to school and get his Master's, so he could go to school at night and work on his master's, and he could teach during the day. Plus I could go back and work on my degree. Now, that made sense to me. | 7:52 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | But I did say, "If we're going to live here, we might as well get a house of our own instead of paying rent." So he finally got this lot out here, and we scrapped and saved to build a house out in this area. | 9:03 |
| Paul Ortiz | But initially you didn't want to really live in Tuskegee. Was there any reason? Were you hoping to go back to Tennessee, or—? | 9:24 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, my husband told me, he said, "If there's any place in this country that you want to live, just let me know. And that's where we'll go." Now, I think this is just something that was in my mind, but I realized that in having children, and my husband had a job, it didn't make sense to go someplace looking for a job and finding a place to live. And no, I didn't have any particular place in mind. I wasn't going back to Greeneville to live. I mean, that's my home. I would go back, but that wasn't my desire, to go back. | 9:32 |
| Paul Ortiz | Right. | 10:10 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And I certainly wasn't going to Mississippi to live. And I also felt that in having a family, it is important to have a place that you can call your own, and the children can feel comfortable in knowing that they don't have to get up and move, or I don't have to move because somebody says, "You've got to move. I want my house." Now, that's the way it was in the project. That put a lot of people out, to get their own homes. Because when Tuskegee Institute said they wanted their land, the government had to sell those houses and get them off that land. Now the land is vacant. There's nothing there. | 10:11 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, did that happen in the early fifties, or—? | 10:54 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yeah. It was during the fifties. | 10:57 |
| Paul Ortiz | And they wanted to clear out that land. | 11:00 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Mm-hmm. So a lot of people who were living there then, they bought houses or had houses built. And at that time, the reason we got out from over there, we had to get out. That's when we had to get out, and we moved over on Gautier Street. And we stayed over there, well, a couple of years, I guess. And I didn't see my husband going anyplace, and I didn't see myself going anyplace else, because I didn't know where I wanted to go. And we talked about it, and we talked about it, and we realized that this was a nice place, we thought, to bring up our children. And he had a job, and I was working toward my degree, still working towards that degree. And I, at one day, would be teaching, and we would just find a place to build a house of our own. So he went searching for our land, and he found this lot out here that was vacant, and he bought this spot. And this is where we've been ever since. | 11:04 |
| Paul Ortiz | So you moved into this house on North Josephine during the 1950s, or later? | 12:18 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | No. That came later. Much later. Let me see. | 12:24 |
| Paul Ortiz | Sixties? | 12:31 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Let's see now. Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah. Right, right, right. Sixties. Early sixties. Maybe '59 or '60, something like that. | 12:33 |
| Paul Ortiz | What was social life like here in Tuskegee during the fifties? | 12:47 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | For me? | 12:53 |
| Paul Ortiz | Mm-hmm. | 12:55 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, I'm really not an outgoing person. I'm not. Never have been. But the social life, well, one thing you find here, you do find different organizations. They have different things. And most of the— Well, you always have churches, who may have different social gatherings and whatnot. But right here in Tuskegee, at that time, back in those days, I know there was a movie downtown. Used to have a movie downtown. And then the other social gatherings would be related to the Tuskegee Institute, because they did have things. And then different social organizations from the campus. | 12:55 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | They would have social gatherings, or if you want call it that, where the public would be invited sometime, and sometimes it would be invitation, but that's about it. Then if you wanted go someplace else, you'd go to Atlanta. If you want to go someplace for social life, to socialize, you'd go to Atlanta, to Montgomery. Some people even went to Birmingham. So there was a choice of an outlet. Of course, we seldom, seldom we ever went. I'm not going someplace. I've got all these children to raise now, you know? I didn't tell— | 13:52 |
| Paul Ortiz | Right. Were there women's clubs in Tuskegee? | 14:35 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yeah. Yes. There was a women's organization here. What did they call it? Women United, I believe. United Women. United Women. They have that. And then each church— Well, I can't speak for any church except my own. We have a women's organization of our church, but I can't speak for other churches, but I think they do. And sometimes church, they will have different things. Banquets, and socials, and that sort of thing. | 14:40 |
| Paul Ortiz | Which church were you going to at that time? | 15:16 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | At what time? | 15:20 |
| Paul Ortiz | During the fifties. | 15:21 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Before our church was organized? | 15:23 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yes. | 15:25 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | We usually went to the chapel. | 15:26 |
| Paul Ortiz | The chapel on [indistinct 00:15:30]? | 15:28 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Usually the chapel. | 15:29 |
| Paul Ortiz | Did you ever think about, or did you know anybody who thought about trying to go to the White Presbyterian church in town? | 15:32 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Not really. Not really. No. No. I can't say that I did. There may have been some, but I can't say that. I only know that you'd recognize the church by just seeing it when I passed by. | 15:46 |
| Paul Ortiz | But there was a sense that that church was strictly for White Presbyterians? | 16:12 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Oh, yes. All these churches were for Whites. Yes. And I don't know of any Blacks that went there. I don't know of any. | 16:16 |
| Paul Ortiz | Were there other— Now, you said all of the churches outside of the Institute were strictly for Whites. Was the segregation here different than it was in Greeneville? | 16:31 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, segregation is segregation wherever you go. But when you speak of it being different, I tell you, I didn't see as much here, because my connection was with Blacks. Most of my connection, most of what I come in contact with was Blacks. And of course, the stores were White, and the political arena, as you call it, was White, and that. And you knew it was White. And you knew they had a White public school, and they had a Black public school, and Black public county schools. We knew that. And knowing that if they were all Black, they were segregated. When there were Whites going other places to school, you knew that. | 16:50 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | But most of my contact with people were Black here. I'd never been in contact with all that many Black people until I came here. And I didn't see as much of it close. But when you began to spread out, and you see everything else is run by Whites, everything is done by Whites, and the Blacks are just running around here, you began to wonder why. Why is it that you've got all these Blacks, and then you've got these Whites out here running everything? Like the stores are run by White. Whatever else you come in contact is run by Whites. The government, the Board of Education, all the board members are White, and all that. And some people just began to take a stand, and began to get into the political arena, and run for these things, and began to set up little businesses of their own. | 18:03 |
| Paul Ortiz | How would people begin to take a stand? [indistinct 00:19:10]? | 19:04 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | For what? For integration? For what? Whatever? | 19:11 |
| Paul Ortiz | Well, simply for challenging, I guess, White control of the area. | 19:14 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Run for public office. I don't know how to get on the list to run. I don't know the requirements there. I don't know the requirements. But in order for things to begin to change, I think that's the beginning, in my point of view, of having them. You've got the city council, the mayor, and whatever these other county offices are, for people to run for those office. Now, sometimes a White would win, a lot of times, even in voting. And then gradually, you had more Blacks applying for these office, different office. And then eventually, you had Blacks winning. And then I think when you found out where Blacks can win in these particular office, you can have Blacks winning in other areas. And I think that was one of the big beginning of the changes. | 19:21 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And then I think another big change was the integration of the schools. Because we had this big White high school downtown, and all Black kids down around the school and over in different areas close by the school, would have to either walk or be bused to other schools. And so people were saying, "Why do they have this big White school down there?" And I understand they didn't have a— The enrollment wasn't all that great. They had it great enough to have a school, but it wasn't all that great. | 20:27 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And so some of the Black kids decided to go there. And of course they had a hassle. They had a hassle, but they didn't back off. They went. And whereas you'd find two going, the next time, you'd find two more going. You'd find two more going. But it was done very, as far as I know, I'm on the outside looking at this, it was very peaceful. And by the time my children went there, they went there shortly after that, though. It was totally integrated by the time my children got there. | 21:10 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, you had already been registered to vote in Greeneville? | 21:44 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Right. | 21:48 |
| Paul Ortiz | So did you immediately register to vote here? | 21:49 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I had to become a registered voter here before I could vote. Yes, I did. And I was here several years before I became a registered voter. You have to live in a place for two years before you can become a registered voter, I believe. | 21:53 |
| Paul Ortiz | As a resident here. | 22:05 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Okay. And it didn't phase me. I didn't get into voting. I didn't get into that. And one of my neighbors lived up on the hill from here. He was very political-minded, and very instrumental in getting people to vote. And all of this voting registration was going on throughout the South then, whereas they didn't want the Blacks to vote. And even here in Macon County, they didn't want you to vote, and they didn't want you to register to vote. | 22:06 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | So my neighbor across the street, Mrs. Rogers, told me that, I believe she was one who told me. They had had this civic meeting, and they were trying to get the Blacks who were not registered to vote here in Macon County to become registered voters. And she asked me if I was a registered voter in Macon County. I said, "No. I haven't become a registered voter in Macon County." And she told me, she said, "Well, now I'm going to take you down to the courthouse so you can become a registered voter." So she did. | 22:41 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And when I went, there were several Blacks there, and they put us all in a room and gave us something to write. I think we had to write the Preamble, seems to me like it was the Preamble of the Constitution. But they gave us a copy or a book with it in it, or something. I believe it was the Preamble of the Constitution. I'm not sure. Something. Anyway, I wrote it and I turned it in. I don't even think the folks even looked at it. And these were White officers, but, now, they have had a strong civic organization here, plus they had the NAACP, and they knew that they had to open up the courthouse for these Blacks to register. They were down on them for that during that time. | 23:16 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And Mr. Davis was the man that lived up on the hill. He was getting all the Blacks that he could, and of course, he had a group working with him to get Blacks interested in becoming registered voters. And then my neighbor across the street told me, she said, "Well, have you become a registered voter in Macon County?" And I said, "No, I haven't." And she said, "Well, I'm going to take you down." | 24:08 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Now, there were only certain times that you could go down and register. She said, "I'm going to take you down to become a registered voter." I said, "All right. You take me down, I'll go." So I went, and they took us in this room where we had to, like I said, write all this and turn it in. And then we had to take it down to another— I think we had to show it to the man who was there, who was given this. And then we had to take it down to another office and leave it, I guess, for our registration. And then after that, that was it. That was it. | 24:29 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | But up to that time, they tell me that a lot of people had tried to become— And they gave them all kinds of reasons and things that they couldn't become registered voters. If they'd go, the White folks would close the poll up. They would close so they couldn't register. And so this is when the other organizations got down on them, that they would have to see to it that they would hold these polls open, so they could. And then they started giving them, like I said, we had to write this, I believe it was the Preamble of the Constitution. Had to write something. And they felt that there were a lot of Blacks who wouldn't be able to do that, and I'm sure there were. There were. But those of us that were in there at that time, I don't know if everybody finished it or not, but I know I did. And I came on out and gave the man my thing, and took it on down to the other lady. | 25:11 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | You have a lot of Blacks in the rural area at that time, they could write their names. Some of them couldn't even write their names, but some could write their names. And they felt that by them having to have this for them to write, they wouldn't be able to do it. And if you couldn't write it, you couldn't become a registered voter. | 26:06 |
| Paul Ortiz | And so you first register, this would've been, say, early sixties that you first registered? | 26:27 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I'm speculating the early sixties. | 26:35 |
| Paul Ortiz | Okay. It would have been after the boycott here? | 26:37 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | It might have been during that time. I don't recall those dates. It might have been during that time. Because it was a pretty heated time, pretty heated time. I don't know. But Blacks, they were undergoing quite a bit at that time, and we had a lot of Blacks leaving here, going other places to participate in demonstrations and that sort of thing, and helping other people to become registered voters. And so I think they found out. And I think when you begin the mass people to vote, that's what changes the political structure, as to whether or not we are going to get people in there that we want. And that's how you got all these— You got a lot. I won't say all of these. You got a lot of Blacks into political office, and government office, was through getting Blacks to register to vote. | 26:43 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And that has played a great part, not only in Macon County, but throughout these counties. And I don't think one was any better than the other when it come to Blacks voting. Even if you were a registered voter, for some reason, they wouldn't let you vote. I still don't quite understand that. I don't quite understand that. But that's the way it was. It seems to me like you would have had Whites out there wanting Blacks to vote because you wanted them to vote for you. | 28:00 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, I see. | 28:41 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | But it didn't seem to be— Anything that seemed like that Whites could do to keep Blacks down or to keep them back, they did it, because I think the main thing was that they felt that Blacks was a threat to their power. And I guess that was a thing. And it's not so much the color, as to who's going to have the power. Who's going to do what with the power when they get it? | 28:43 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And this is one thing, I think the Blacks thought that if they were in the political arena, that at least they would know what's going on. Because why is it that Blacks not getting service that they need in their community? And it's because really they didn't know. You didn't know. And then too, in some areas, you found out if you had Black people in these office, would it be any better? But I tell you, when I came to Tuskegee, I can think about all the money roads around in Tuskegee. I think that's how it was paved, and the street downtown, and maybe one or two other streets, but the others were not paved until we got a Black mayor in there, Johnny Ford. | 29:12 |
| Paul Ortiz | Back in '72. | 30:17 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yeah. Then these streets began to— And then you began to get Black political councilmen in there, and you began to get the streets paved. When we moved out here, this street wasn't paved. Of course it's got a blacktop on it, but hey, it's better walking in the mud. But it didn't have blacktop. And most of these streets, these side streets around here, they didn't have blacktop, and didn't have names on them. Didn't have names on the street. If I told you about coming to North Josephine Street, I would just have to give you all kinds of directions. But you'd be looking everywhere to doomsday to find a name. There were no names on the streets. | 30:17 |
| Paul Ortiz | How did you get the mail? | 31:00 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I don't know how folks got the mail. At that time, we got our mail, we had a post office box on the campus, and that's how we got our mail. | 31:01 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, so you had to go to the Institute post office? | 31:12 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Post office. Right. Right. | 31:16 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, okay. | 31:16 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Right. But now I understand that all lots have a number. It's a number. And I don't know how people got mail, to tell you the truth, at that time. | 31:19 |
| Paul Ortiz | In the fifties, though, there were no signs? | 31:34 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Right. You wouldn't know Josephine Street from Adams Street. You'd never find it. No. There were no signs here. I don't even think there was any signs going to Tuskegee Institute. There may have been a sign someplace. | 31:39 |
| Paul Ortiz | Were there signs, do you know, where White people lived, in Tuskegee? | 31:55 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | You want to know the truth? I don't even know where the White people lived. I don't even know where they lived, except, I say, except right downtown. The downtown area was where the White folks lived, as far as I know. And I had no connection with downtown other than just to go to the store and back. I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. | 31:59 |
| Paul Ortiz | What kind of impact did Tuskegee Institute have on the Black community? You mentioned earlier that that was the one place, in recreational terms, that you could go to if you were Black. But were there other areas of impact, or did it seem that the Institute had an impact on the Black community, if you were not a student? | 32:27 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Oh, yes. Yes it did. I think it did, because I think Tuskegee Institute has always had an impact on people if they were not students. Because it seemed to me like whatever activity they may have had on the campus, the Blacks always knew they could come. You had a place to go to, as far as I know. And like I said, they would have things on the campus like concerts, plays, or whatever. And then of course, they always had the chapel there. A lot of people in the community go to the chapel. That's where we went when we first married. We would go to the chapel for service. And they were always having something, and they still do. And the people in the community, yeah, they always felt free to go. | 32:57 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And you have people out in the country who would come into Tuskegee Institute. When the notice got out there's certain people coming in, or they're having something on the campus, people would come. And I think that that's been good for this area, because most people, they do know about Tuskegee. I mean, they may not know about Tuskegee, but they know about Tuskegee Institute. | 34:11 |
| Paul Ortiz | Right. | 34:40 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | We still have a problem getting used to Tuskegee University, because it just become a university a few years ago. So we still refer to it as Tuskegee Institute. | 34:41 |
| Paul Ortiz | Where did you teach during the fifties? You were teaching in town, or—? | 34:55 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I didn't. See, I didn't have my degree then. | 35:01 |
| Paul Ortiz | Okay. | 35:04 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Well, no, I didn't have my degree then. I didn't get my degree until '63. | 35:05 |
| Paul Ortiz | '63. Okay. So you were busy raising your—? | 35:10 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Right. Right. | 35:18 |
| Paul Ortiz | Was Tuskegee an easy place to raise a family? Or was it a—? | 35:24 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Now, when I look back on it, I don't know of any other place I would rather have brought my children up in. I really don't. Because it's been my main concern that the children, like I told you, the children first have a home. They have a home. We'd go to church. We'd go to church, and they'd go to school. Now, my social life was centered around my home and my children. So whatever the children would be involved in at school, that's where my interests would be. And that was enough for them to do, and enough for them to go. And occasionally, we'd go to Montgomery. We'd go to Montgomery to shop a lot, and occasionally we'd go to Atlanta. | 35:31 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And I can't think of any other place. Haven't been every place, but I can't think of any place I would rather— When I look back over it, to have brought my children up in, because Tuskegee was a place where there was a lot of social life going on out there, I'm sure, but there wasn't a lot to draw my children into that I would have rebelled against. Because wherever they went or whatever they went to, I knew about it. And if I'd been someplace else, things might have been different. There was enough going on for them to be involved in. | 36:26 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | To say that there was nothing for them to do— Of course, when they come home, now they say there's nothing in Tuskegee. But when they were coming up as children, I think the role that they chose, or the role I guess that my husband and I chose for them, being at home, going to school, going to church, and they had their friends to socialize with. They had their friends, but it was kind of a close-knitted thing. You knew who their friends were. You knew who their classmates were. And families knew each other. And that kept you in contact of knowing where your children were, and knew just about what they're doing. And if I was someplace else, I'm not sure it would have been quite like that, because children like to do what their peers do, go where their peers go. And didn't have too much of that for my children to be involved in. And that was good, I thought. | 37:13 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, I believe that you and your husband were founding members of the Westminster Presbyterian Church during the fifties. At that time, I mean, there really wasn't a Presbyterian church for Black people in Tuskegee. | 38:24 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Right. | 38:49 |
| Paul Ortiz | So did you think at the time there might have been a possibility that you might even have to change the denominations? Or were you thinking about trying to found a church all along, or—? | 38:52 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I think my husband, when he was in Mississippi, his parents, I think they were Methodists, but I was a Presbyterian, and my husband did attend the Methodist church. Sometimes. Sometimes he did. But our basic attendance would have been the chapel. And after I had been here a year, I met the chaplain at the VA, Chaplain Pole, who was a Presbyterian, and I hadn't been here a year when I met him. And a very lovely person. Met him and his wife. And he was a chaplain at the VA. He was a Presbyterian chaplain, and we talked about Presbyterians. | 39:06 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And he told me, he said, "Well, you know, we had thought about,"—and I don't know who his "we" were—"organizing a Presbyterian church here in Tuskegee." And he said, "You know, there's quite a few Presbyterians here." And I said, "Really?" And he told me that they had planned to get together, and I think he and a few other Presbyterians got together, and they decided to have a meeting of all Presbyterians that they could gather to come together, and we did. And that was the very first beginning of the church. | 40:03 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | And I was looking at that list the other night. I think there was 36 of us, 30-something of us in the beginning, and it has weaned down, I think, to about 10. But Chaplain Pole was very instrumental in getting it started, and he was a lovely person. And we gradually grew from there. | 40:40 |
| Paul Ortiz | In the beginning, you were meeting at the chapel at the Institute for Religious Services? | 41:13 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | We never met at the chapel. | 41:22 |
| Paul Ortiz | You never met at the chapel? | 41:23 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | We met on the campus. | 41:24 |
| Paul Ortiz | On the campus. | 41:25 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Yeah. Right. We met on the campus. We surely did meet on the campus. There was a little place there that the Institute had called the Little Theater. And we met there for quite some time. We started having church, and we had Sunday school, and a couple of programs there. And I think for some reason or another, we were there one year and we didn't have— For one reason or another, we had to move out. I don't know if it was because of the heating problem or what. We moved into one of the buildings there on the campus, which was called the— I don't know what that building was called. It was some building that they let us use for church purposes for about a few years. Not a few years. A few months. A few months. Because at that time, I started building a church out on Franklin Road, had started building the church, and they let us use that particular building until our church was finished, and we moved in it. | 41:26 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | But now, the Institute was very nice and very cooperative in letting us use their building, but we didn't use the chapel at that time. And we began to pick up a few members, and when word got around that we were Presbyterians and seeking more Presbyterians, those who were Presbyterians came in, and we grew. Not big. Presbyterians are, I don't think you ever find a bigger number, but that's where we had our beginning. | 42:41 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Have you met, of course Mrs. Baldwin's a Presbyterian. Did you meet a lady by the name of— No. You didn't meet her. K.B. Young? | 43:14 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yes. | 43:25 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | You met Mr. Young? You did? Okay. He was one of the first instrumental persons to get us started too. | 43:26 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, okay. | 43:34 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Now, I keep pointing in directions. He lives over here, not too far from here. | 43:34 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yeah. Where was that? Off of Azalea, or—? | 43:38 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Azalea. Azalea. Right. Right. Right. He surely was. And he was very good, and instrumental through the years in getting us started, keep things going. And you met Mrs. Baldwin. Did you meet Wilhelmina Jones? | 43:43 |
| Paul Ortiz | Yes, ma'am. | 44:03 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Oh, you did? All right. Thinking of some of those other old members. Mr. Goodman, Bob Goodman? He lives right across from Wilhelmina Jones. | 44:04 |
| Paul Ortiz | Okay. He's on our list of people to talk with. | 44:18 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Okay. | 44:20 |
| Paul Ortiz | I think one of our other researchers [indistinct 00:44:22]. | 44:20 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Okay. Right. Now, both of them would be interesting to talk to. He's in construction, and in fact, he's the one that built our church, Mr. Goodwin. | 44:21 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, how did you do— Speaking of building the church, where did the funds, where did they come from primarily? Did you raise them yourselves, or—? | 44:35 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I think the Presbytery, I don't know if they gave us funds or they lent us funds, but we raised funds too, to help pay for that church. But just where you had the initial funds, I'm not sure. I'm not sure. I'm not sure. I'm sure it came from the Presbytery, because we were only a few people. We didn't have enough money to build no church. They helped us, and helped us to keep going, until we finally got able to support ourselves. And now we're self-supported, I think that's pretty good, for a handful. And that's where we go from there. | 44:50 |
| Paul Ortiz | If you were writing your autobiography, and you came to the conclusion or the concluding point, and you had to kind of sum up your life, and try to sort out some of the maybe events, or experiences, or things that have inspired you, and you had to draw a lesson of your life, what would it be? | 45:59 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I don't know if I could or not. Really just drawing a plan of my life from the beginning, up to now? Well, I would just say— | 46:38 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Okay. I went to elementary and high school in a place called Greeneville, Tennessee. And like you said, at this time, the town that I grew up in, it was totally segregated, but there was a only a handful of Blacks there. | 0:04 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | As I grew up, in order to have a little change in the little savings, I did work in private homes, babysitting, and sometimes housekeeping or cooking. And I did like it. I enjoyed it. I enjoyed doing that. And then when I finished high school, I went to junior college in Rogersville, Tennessee, Swift Memorial Junior College, which was a Presbyterian school, for two years. And there, I enjoyed it. I enjoyed that school. I still love that school. It's no longer in existence. But I did love it while I was there. | 0:25 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | After finishing Swift Memorial Junior College, I was able to get a job in Greene County in one of the county schools. It was an interesting school. It was a job. It was a one-room school, but I was the only teacher, the principal and the teacher. And I taught there for two years, and I came to Tuskegee to further my education. | 1:14 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | Then, I married John Brown, Jr., and I finished my year out teaching in Greene County for three years. And I came to Tuskegee to live, and I decided to further my degree in going to school during the summer or either doing a quarter at that time. And that's what I did. And I had five children. I finished my degree in '63, and I got a job teaching in Macon County in one of the county schools. I taught there for 25 years. I am now retired. My husband died November 11th, in '93. Now, I am wondering which way to go. I am not quite sure which way I'm going, but at present, I've lived in Tuskegee now for 43 years. When I first came here, I had no intentions of staying, but after being here for 43 years, I think this is my home now, so I'll be here. | 1:51 |
| Cordelia Manuel Brown | I left out a lot, didn't I? I don't know what I left out, but I look at the times in between there, there's been good times and there's been bad times. But my husband and I was always able to overcome whatever came in front of us. So, that's the basic part of my life. | 3:17 |
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