Roosevelt Wilson interview recording, 1994 August 04
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| Roosevelt Wilson | On the East Coast in Bunnell, which is little community between Daytona Beach and St. Augustine on US-1. During that time it was the main thoroughfare, north-south in Florida. But when I was six, we moved to Georgia. Oh, God. I knew that was going to happen. This is okay? | 0:00 |
| Paul Ortiz | Sure. | 0:35 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Okay. | 0:35 |
| Paul Ortiz | You were saying that you moved, as a child, to South Georgia? | 0:37 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Yeah, I guess it's kind of south, not very far from Albany. Tifton. Yeah, about 40 miles from Tifton, right? I stayed there until I was 17 and we came back to Florida. Back to the same place with everybody else. | 0:44 |
| Paul Ortiz | What was life like in that part of Georgia as a child? | 1:07 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Actually, it wasn't rough in the sense that— that's where I grew up, but everything was segregated. Separate schools. Everything was just separate, water fountains, things like that. It was a way of life, so I had nothing to compare it with. So it just seemed normal. But I look back on it now, it seems so terribly unfair. But at the time, I was able to deal with it. | 1:16 |
| Paul Ortiz | When did you first become aware of Jim Crow's system? First personal experiences with that? | 1:57 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I guess I was always aware of it. And I guess that bothered me because it never made sense. For example, we couldn't go in a restaurant. We had to go around to a window. And it never made sense. Even when I was a small kid, it just never made sense. And the water fountains. So I was aware, but I knew it was a law of the land, so to speak. It wasn't anything, but it just didn't make sense. It didn't, at the time, seem to impose any kind of hardship. But emotionally, I guess, I struggled with it because I was trying to figure out why. | 2:11 |
| Paul Ortiz | Did your parents talk to you about segregation? When you say an emotional struggle, is this something that they would talk about as bothering them? | 3:00 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No, my dad is a very strong man, and one of the things that stands out in my mind about this whole thing was how he was never intimidated. He would never let White people intimidate him. I remember because I finished high school and went to college, and that was unusual for my community. My dad wasn't making much, he was working down in the turpentine. I recall one Saturday, and it was almost a routine when he'd get his paycheck, he wouldn't have enough and he'd have to borrow money the next week. | 3:16 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I remember his boss telling him, he said, this was, I believe, after my senior year in high school, and I was getting ready to go to college. My dad went to borrow some money just to buy groceries, I'm thinking. He told my dad, said, "If you let that big boy go to work and help you out, you wouldn't have to borrow this money." My dad told him, he said, "I hired myself out to you, not my family." Even then, that took a lot of courage and I look back on it now and realize how courageous he had to be to take that position. That had a tremendous impact on me. But that's the atmosphere that this is prevalent. | 4:05 |
| Paul Ortiz | What were the kinds of occupations that African-American people did in the community growing up? | 5:07 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Well, we worked in— Well, actually, I had a job. As coming up in high school, I had a job at a drug store. Well, I worked in a grocery store bagging groceries. I worked at a drugstore on a bicycle delivering medicine across the city. They weren't as sprawling as they are now. But basically though most of us, school teaching, teaching school was the, I mean, that's what people looked up to. And because beyond that, people worked in the fields or in the woods, that kind of thing. | 5:16 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | In terms of professional jobs, I mean, there just were very few. I mean, the professionals were teaching, and that was it. Doctors in this part of the country, Black doctors were sparge. I mean, where I was in Georgia. I understand Tallahassee, of course around Florida and there they had some doctors. But where I was in Fitzgerald at that time, we didn't have that many. We came back in the late '50s, '57, '58, and I went to Bethune-Cookman in Daytona Beach, and of course there were Black doctors there and I got to see more professionals. But where I grew in Fitzgerald, there just weren't that many. | 5:57 |
| Paul Ortiz | What would you do if you needed medical care in Fitzgerald ? | 6:52 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I'd go to a White doctor. Yeah, I don't recall having to suffer in that sense, but we had separate waiting rooms. And I guess one of the things that during that time, again, with it being a way of life, they don't seem as bad at the time, at least it didn't to me as it did later when I looked back, when I learned better. I learned that that's just not the way things was supposed to be. And then I said, "Well, gee-whiz, that was terribly, terribly unfair." But at the time, it was a way of life and you do what you do to survive and to make it. And it wasn't like we were crammed in the hull of a boat or something. I mean, it wasn't that kind of obvious type of injustice and terrible type situation. I mean, we could go to movies and things, they were just separate. So at the time it was happening, it wasn't that bad, but it was just that lingering question as to why. | 6:57 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, when did that question first begin appearing in your mind when you first begin to see injustice? Did you say that later on you began to look back, was that as a student, as a college student, you began to look around and question things? | 8:37 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Well, I think since I was small, I wondered, but I never actually questioned it actively. I guess I never sought answers, I just wondered. But then when I got in college, then my thought process I think started developing. I mean, I started seeing a broader perspective, and that's when the serious questions started. I started wondering. And actually I started seeing the unfairness. And there was a bit of anger and frustration starting to develop as a result of it. Because at that point then, I began to characterize it as being unfair, as opposed to simply wondering why suddenly I see the perpetrator as is just mean people being this way, being totally unfair and having no conscience about it. | 8:53 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, was this a process that you went through with other students that you would talk about segregation or is this something—? | 10:13 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Well, no, I think the general education process in terms of developing broader perspectives, going back, learning through literature, studying Shakespeare, understanding people's thought processes and things like that. When I was at Bethune-Cookman, I had studied biblical literature and studying about Moses leading the people out and that the oppression of people. And I guess what I'm saying, it was a total process. It was not a focus on Jim Crow as such. But suddenly it all started to fall into place as my mind developed and everything started to have a place in the universe, I guess, suddenly in terms of men's inhumanity to man. | 10:25 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I mean, this is something that I recall in literature we discussed. And so suddenly you start applying these things to your daily lives, and you say, "Something is wrong here. What is it that I have done to warrant this kind of treatment?" And nothing. And I mean, the only thing here is the color of my skin, and I'm not responsible for that. And as a result, there's an anger that develops because it's finding something totally beyond control, that you're being held responsible for it, being penalized for it. And so that was part of that total maturation, intellectual development process that suddenly had put all this in perspective. But there was no focus on just Jim Crow, no. | 11:26 |
| Paul Ortiz | Were there students coming from other parts of the South who would talk about this as well, a growing awareness or experiences that they had? | 12:36 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Yes. What happened is there started being, students started saying, "Well, this is ridiculous. We need to do something about this." And that's why students became more amenable to marching, to joining the protests and things like that. Because they said, "Well, there's just no reason. We got to do something about this." Yes. But again, though, I think particularly in the college atmosphere, it was not just simply someone blindly following. I think it was a result of convictions developed within the individual based on a broadening of the intellect and an appreciation for just basic human decency. And then to see that denied for absolutely no reason. That is what enraged so many of the students I know. But one of the things that happened was we were never violent. | 12:50 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | If I may, we were violently opposed to the system, but we did not react violently. We just felt like we needed to do something to change it. And then fortunately, about that time, Martin Luther King and the non-violence and all that. Well, now about that time, I had left the college setting. I graduated in '63 from college. But at the same time, I started working in the newspaper in '63. And so I started covering these things. I started again writing about them, trying to create a level of consciousness. To give you a good example, I was teaching in Ocala in '69, for example, when suddenly they say, "We must integrate." | 14:08 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Now, I went to Ocala to teach. I graduated in '63, I got my first job in '63. And I taught there under a dual system. But by the late '60s, then of course had to integrate. Well, from the early '60s until the late '60s, the official, the school board, everybody in Ocala was saying, "The schools are equal. They're adequate." Well, we had the law of separate but equal and all that kind of stuff. And they said they're adequate. And I was out there among the others. We were saying, well, why should we, for example, Howard High School where I worked, was on the west side of town. Ocala High, which is a White school, it was on east side. They would bus White students past Howard High and then vice versa. And so we were saying, "Well, why not just have students go to the school that's closer to them?" | 15:16 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | But the White people in the community were saying, "No, this is fine. Howard is fine. It's a great school." And all that kind of stuff. And we were saying, well, no, because I was in charge of the textbooks. I know that the textbooks we got in were the discards from Ocala High. All right? But they were saying, "No, everything was fine. Everything was equal." Well, when the law of the land said, you got to integrate, suddenly Howard became unsuitable. | 16:31 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And the very first thing they did was they brought in a White principal. And all this time, they had a Black principal. It was fine for us, but when they had to bring those White kids there, suddenly the Black principal was not good enough and all that. And so they brought in a White principal, made the Black principal the assistant principal, that kind of thing. And then they couldn't wait. I mean, they said, "Well, we've got to build a new school." And what we're going to do is build it not in the White community and not in the Black community really way out in the middle of nowhere. | 17:05 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And which this was very frustrating, very frustrating. Now you're taking the kids out of the neighborhoods. And basically the message we got was, okay, if we integrate, it's going to be on our terms. These were the folks calling the shots. And I know I've sat, attended school board meetings at 2:00, 2:30 in the morning and trying to hammer these things out, but to no avail. It was White folks called all the shots. This was in the late '60s. And, well, basically right now, we had community colleges in Florida, both Black and White. We do not have a single Black community college in Florida, or no Black president of a community college, that kind of thing. And just to watch all of that being taken away irrationally. And again, at this point, I mean, I'm teaching. I'm writing for a newspaper. I mean, I'm out of college and all that kind of stuff, but it's still going on. | 17:49 |
| Paul Ortiz | Going back to your early childhood, Mr. Wilson. Did your mother work outside of the home? | 19:12 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No. Well, she did day's work. I mean, maid's work in the home, but it was not a profession as such. She would do it occasionally, but mostly she was at home or we would go to the fields and she would work in the fields. | 19:19 |
| Paul Ortiz | Who would she work for? Would you also do this as a child? | 19:42 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Yes. There was just people who had farms. Of course, they were all White folks, but they had farms, cabbage, potatoes. And we'd go out and clip cabbage and pick up potatoes, plant potatoes. Just before they got the machines, we had to do all that by hand. And so it was one of those dark when you leave home, dark when you get back. | 19:46 |
| Paul Ortiz | Right. | 20:14 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Yeah. | 20:14 |
| Paul Ortiz | What was it like in the field? | 20:16 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Hot and cold. Miserable. We used to do, I remember when I was too small to work, but I mean, you got in the field, and it's like over 100 degrees out there. And my mom used to take some stakes and take some burlap sacks and try to make a little shade thing for me to be under. And that was one of the amazing things about it, is that love, the mother's love, and the caring and all of that, the hard work and everything. But they still tried to take care of us the best way they could. But that was rough. And sometimes when we had to go and cut the cabbage, it would be cold. And actually get out there in the morning before a day. And I mean, it would be freeze, literally, water would be, I mean, it would be frozen. And we had to do it. We had to do it. It would warm up during the day. But those were rough times. | 20:24 |
| Paul Ortiz | Did your family own the farm? | 21:38 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No. No. | 21:38 |
| Paul Ortiz | Were there overseers in the field? | 21:46 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Yes. Yes. And we used to, I know I did a column once and made some people very upset. But we used to, I recall this guy, this one guy in particular used to wear a gun. I mean, like in the Wild West. He used to wave a gun at us. He did it to intimidate us, but he was a mean man. I mean, saw him take a puppy and take that puppy by its hind legs and hit his head, just bash his brains out against the tree. And then he turned around and looked at us and it was just intimidating us. But we used to sabotage the equipment. I mean, he had these big old— when they started getting these big things that would dig up the potatoes and lay them out on top of the ground, we'd put rocks and things in there, sabotage it, so it would break down. | 21:49 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I mean, I guess it was our way of retaliating. But we didn't like— I guess we couldn't articulate it at the time. But I think what it amounted to was we didn't appreciate being intimidated that way and felt like anybody who would do something like that to a puppy needed something bad to happen to them. And so we took it out on the machinery as opposed to maybe trying to do something to the man himself. | 22:43 |
| Paul Ortiz | How often did it go beyond their intimidation? Did they ever confront you directly or did you ever feel, "Wrath?" | 23:18 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No. No, I never, no, not personally. No. And I don't recall, no. All right. Where that happened was dealing with police. I know we used to run a little joint, sell beer and soft drinks and little sandwiches and things like that. And I mean, the police would just come by on Saturday night. I mean, the only outlet our guys had, they could drink moonshine, get drunk. They'd just throw them in the paddy wagon and kick them, beat them, that kind of stuff. | 23:30 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I mean, that would happen all the time. But as far as on the job, I didn't see anything. I think we probably had gotten past that, because we were talking about the late '50s and the— well, actually the mid to late '50s when I'm talking about in terms of being out in the fields and things like that. So we've probably gotten past that just open brutality on people out in the fields and things. I think that was probably a growing sense of consciousness about that. But police still had a license to do what they wanted to do. And I mean, they didn't have— they'd come in and kick the door down and drag you out. | 24:15 |
| Paul Ortiz | Were they Black police? | 25:10 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No. No. Black police, no. I'm trying to remember. I don't even know when we— we hadn't had one. When I left Georgia in '57, we hadn't had one in Fitzgerald, a Black police officer. I think we went to Daytona Beach. But see, I lived in Bunnell and I don't know, it may have been the late '60s when we first got a Black police officer there. But Black police officers were never, I mean, to my knowledge, they didn't do that. I mean, they were more compassionate, but it was the White ones who just had no conscience. I mean, they just drag us out, not us, not me personally, but I've seen them in many occasions come by our place and just drag guys out. They start feeling no good and drag him out, throw them in the back of the wagon, and you can see them beating across the head with the night sticks and stuff like that. Yeah. So that was rough. | 25:13 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now, when you were doing, working the field, the overseer, I take was White? | 26:22 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Oh, yes. | 26:30 |
| Paul Ortiz | And that was pretty much always the case? | 26:32 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Yes. | 26:34 |
| Paul Ortiz | The overseer? | 26:35 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Mm-hmm. | 26:38 |
| Paul Ortiz | Would African-American people talk about resistance or trying to at some point challenge the system, say on individual terms? | 26:40 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Not that I witnessed. Because what happened was, at that time, like I said, this was in the late '50s, and our parents were of course much older. And they were from a time when they were much more, I mean, things had gotten a lot better. Things had gotten a lot better. So there were no, no. They were just trying to make it. They were just trying to make it. I don't recall. I mean, I hear people complaining, cursing the folks out, wishing bad things would happen to them, but nobody planning anything to do to overcome it. Again, I think it was at that point, and understand what I'm saying now, from my perspective, we were either in Georgia or in Bunnell. Bunnell, which is smaller. It was a real small place. And so in those cases, we were away from, lack of a better term, the thinkers. | 26:56 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And when you get to the college type setting, now where you have people intellectualizing about these things and talking about the injustices and everything like that, we had people who were just saying, "These are some mean people," and that kind of thing. And fussing about it. But not really making any plans to do anything about it. But basically they were concentrating on surviving. | 28:19 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And I think the people who were looking into the future were the people who were on the campuses, the people who had been to college, the people who had been around, people who can look beyond surviving today. And I think that's where the leaders came from. And I think once that happened, I think the people who were looking for day-to-day survival, then they saw some hope in other people like Martin Luther King who say, and I think that's why they followed him in multitudes. Because they saw hope, saw some relief. But until that, and I don't think that's why we've had any effective relief since then, is people have tended to try to deal with them things and from just point of surviving. | 28:46 |
| Paul Ortiz | Were there celebrations or special events in the community when you were growing up and bringing people together? | 29:43 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I don't recall. Other than just the regular holidays. I mean, we learned to celebrate holidays because White folks celebrated them. But Juneteenth and things like that, I don't ever recall celebrating Juneteenth in my community. I don't even know if anybody tried it. That's what it meant. Again, the community was so small. I don't know. It may have created a lot of friction. People may have tried. I just don't recall. | 29:56 |
| Paul Ortiz | About how many people would you say, just estimate, made up the community in Fitzgerald? | 30:36 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I would say, heaven knows I'm guessing, because— I would say probably three or 4,000 Black people from all over the town. | 30:48 |
| Paul Ortiz | When these incidents would happen, but if violence, acts of violence, would the churches ever respond to them? Or what was the church's role in response to—? | 31:10 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No, we were not organized that way. No, we hadn't gotten to that. They were just individual acts and that people dealt with, tried to cope with. There was no kind of organized protest or anything like that. That came later. But it was a survival mode. What I have learned was that depending on where these things happened, I think it depended a lot on how people responded to them. And we were basically in little country towns where our leaders were our ministers who taught, who preached getting along, not defiance. | 31:17 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | They taught getting along. They taught us to be Christ-like and to not strike back, that kind of thing. And again, you understand that during the '50s, we got pastors who are 50 and 60, you follow me? And so you see where their frame of reference from way back. So it was this later generation of ministers that came along and started the new trend, so to speak. But at that point, in those communities, we didn't have the activists. They were passivists. | 32:17 |
| Paul Ortiz | What role would the church play in Fitzgerald? Different congregations? | 33:07 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I mean, that's how we get our strength. I mean, that's how we made it through the week. We go to church and we pray and we get our strength from the Lord to tolerate all this stuff. I mean, not to resist it. We didn't pray for the strength to fight it. We prayed for the strength to endure it. And basically said, "Let your will be done." And our feeling was that the Lord knew what was best. And so that's why we went to church. That's one of the key reasons we were able to endure. We just got that strength. | 33:16 |
| Paul Ortiz | Did the Ku Klux Klan ever [indistinct 00:34:04]? | 33:59 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No. No, because my communities were so small. I mean, I think there was just a built-in intimidation type thing. I don't think. But again, I'm not sure we called it intimidation at the time. It was almost like we knew where our place was, so we didn't give them any trouble. I mean, we didn't give anybody any trouble. And so we didn't have any confrontations. I guess, we don't have to go to the radio station and then pick up on this one? | 34:10 |
| Paul Ortiz | Sure. | 34:50 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Okay. | 34:51 |
| Paul Ortiz | Mr. Wilson, when you were growing up, did you have contact with your grandparents, other relatives and family? | 34:53 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Yes. My grandmother in particular, on my father's side. Well, actually both. But my grandmother on my father's side, we all lived in the same community. My grandmother, my maternal grandmother lived in another community, but we were as close as we could be in terms of what the miles would put in. But my grandfather was a minister and he stayed gone all the time. | 35:03 |
| Paul Ortiz | Would your grandparents ever tell stories about their own upbringing, or would you hear your parents talk about your grandparents? Do you know a bit about their background? | 35:37 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I don't recall. Now, my maternal grand— my paternal grandmother. Okay. She would tell stories about how things were when she was raising my dad and his sisters and brothers. But those stories were more, and it may have been because I was at such a young age, but the way I saw those stories, they were more about the struggle to survive as opposed to a struggle against oppression. It was just tough trying to survive. And that's what those stories were about. And one of the things that I think, and here again probably that figured a lot into that, is, again, for example, we live in a very, very small community. | 35:51 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And the efforts were simply in terms of what I can remember when I was small hearing my parents and grandparents talk about, they were stories of struggle. And they weren't racial type struggle. They were struggle to survive. And obviously that I look back on, I know what made it so tough was the system that was in place, but they never taught us to blame the system. | 37:11 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And I think that that was good because while as I got up and I learned that the system was unfair, and I think about the time my dad told the man, "I didn't hire my family out to you," and all that. The underlying lesson in there was that there is still, I mean, you can still succeed regardless. And they never taught us to accept oppression, I guess. They never taught us to accept that. Because I could see the pride in which my dad walked and carried himself and things like that. But it was never like, you can't make it because these folks are trying to keep you down. I mean, it was never that. | 37:58 |
| Paul Ortiz | I see. You mentioned earlier the importance of church life in your community. Which church did your family attend? And were there other churches as well in the community? | 39:02 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Yeah, we attended Missionary Baptist Church. And there were, you name it. We always had plenty of churches. And I remember when we were in Georgia, I used to know all the churches by name and where they were located. Because the one thing we did is, for example, our church would go to one of the other churches and have service, that kind of thing. So although we had different churches, there was still that sense of community. And so the churches worked cooperatively in that regard, yes. | 39:17 |
| Paul Ortiz | In terms of cooperation, would they hold revivals or maybe trade Sundays? | 40:02 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Yes, they would hold revivals. And we would go, for example, it would be our night, for example, during the week at the revival. And sometimes our church, I remember this one church named Shiloh. My church was, the name of my church was Providence Missionary Baptist Church. And there was another Baptist church, Providence, I mean Shiloh. And I remember we used to go and have services at Shiloh, just the whole congregation. We'd be in charge of the service, that kind of thing. | 40:09 |
| Paul Ortiz | During revivals, were there ministers who in your mind, stuck out or ever visited by, perhaps, very famous idols? | 40:50 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No, but I do know that there was a premium based on distance that the minister had to travel. I mean, it was a big deal since Reverend X from Albany, New York. I mean that was a big— if he came from a long way off, I mean, that gave him more credibility. I mean really, that was a big deal where he was from. That exists to some extent today, even in some churches. But as far as Martin Luther King or somebody like that, no. | 41:11 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | You kind of, in the district, ministers would develop reputations. And I mean as far as being fiery preachers, that kind of thing. And so when you could get them, you felt like you really had something. And then sometimes, it depends on who the minister. I mean, they would pack the church because the minister's reputation. But not necessarily a social activist, but just someone who could really build a fire under people from the pulpit. | 41:57 |
| Paul Ortiz | I see. Now at Providence, the church you attended, what kind of role did the pastor have? | 42:28 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | He had a tremendous amount of respect from all of us. And he was, this may sound, he was our spiritual leader. But again, spiritual as opposed to social. I mean, I don't recall our dealing with social issues, social injustices, except through the God knows best for us. He has a plan, that kind of thing. But not in the sense of, let's go out and resist this, or go down and meet here and meet with the mayor or somebody. | 42:42 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | So we didn't have that kind of activism. But what we had was a preacher telling us that we need to be God-like. We need to turn the other cheek. And that we need to focus on the afterlife. And that was the thing. But none of that, think about it, that could have been genius in the sense that at the time may not have made a lot of sense for us to rebel. I mean, it could have been a great survival technique. It certainly didn't hurt. And who knows, I may have grown on some of my strength from that. | 43:33 |
| Paul Ortiz | Did you ever want to be a minister as a young boy? | 44:27 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I always thought you had to be perfect. And I knew, I could tell I wasn't perfect. Yeah. | 44:35 |
| Paul Ortiz | Who were your role models— | 44:42 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | My dad. | 44:42 |
| Paul Ortiz | —growing up? | 44:42 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | My dad, without a doubt, still is. I mean, he could do no wrong. And I don't know anything he did. Anyway, he used to smoke. I used to smoke. He quit. I quit. I never saw him drink. I never drank. Never heard him swear. I don't swear. Always loyal to his family and just always spoke his mind. I just, that's it. | 44:44 |
| Paul Ortiz | Well, I wanted to ask you another question about medical care. You mentioned that medical care in Fitzgerald was segregated. Were there other techniques, perhaps herbal remedies that were used? | 45:30 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Oh yes. My mother used to use— We have colds, to go out in the woods. I mean, send my dad in the woods and get some of this tea. Can't remember the name of that tea. And make it. I mean, we didn't get over the counter medicine. Well, I remember Black Graph. We used to do that. But it used to be tea and put— Won't get colds put— I don't know, some kind of stink stuff on us, but much of it was home remedy. But even things like if you get a cut, get things like spider webs, cotton webs, and things like that and mix it with stuff. Yeah, that was very common. Yeah. | 0:02 |
| Paul Ortiz | Who would apply those? That always— | 0:58 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | My mom. Yeah. Yeah. Or my grandma. | 0:58 |
| Paul Ortiz | Were there alternative kinds of spiritual beliefs when you were growing up? | 1:14 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And I didn't— People used to call them root doctors and I never knew much about them, but I would hear my folks talk about them. And I guess these are— What would we call today? Psychics, I guess. Because they would say, go get things that they put roots on you. I mean they put spells on you and stuff like that. Yeah. I mean that was very prevalent. | 1:30 |
| Paul Ortiz | Would you ever hear anybody talk in terms of putting a spell on somebody else or there being a fear that that would happen to people? | 2:11 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | It was like I would hear adults talking about it, but I never knew anyone who would like to tell me. I mean, because this is when I was a child and let's see, by the time I got— Well, when I went, by the time I got out of high school and started college, it's kind of like I got away from— And so the people I was interacting with and we were kind of moving to another level, that kind of thing. But where I heard all of this is when I was coming up, particular until I got maybe junior high, you know, that kind of thing. But then I wasn't old enough to interact with those people, but I was very much aware of it. | 2:24 |
| Paul Ortiz | What kind of stories would your parents or elders tell about that? | 3:10 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I don't recall particularly who told it, not like my parents or my grandparents. But I do recall stories about people going off, getting things, and they'd come back and then after a while the enemies would start getting ill and they start drying up and actually they would die, but people put spells on them, things like that. And they would go to see people and particularly say people would go to South Carolina. South Carolina was one of the favorite places they would go and get these roots and things like that and come back and put on people. | 3:19 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Those were common stories. And I don't know how much it was coincidence, but a lot of times, I don't know if somebody got ill and just died and then people just say, well here's what happened. Or if somebody went off and got something, they say, okay, here's going to happen. I don't know. But I do know that they related that with some kind of herbal or what they call a root doctor or something. Some kind of roots they put on people. | 4:07 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now would this always be intraracial within the Black community? Was he ever employed, say [indistinct 00:04:54] the White? | 4:45 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No. That's interesting. No, it was always Black on Black. | 4:58 |
| Paul Ortiz | Mr. Wilson, who was responsible for discipline within the family? | 5:04 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | In my family, both. My dad, I don't recall my dad ever physically disciplining me, but he never had to. I mean, it was just a word work, but now my mother used to tear me up all the time. I mean I'd go out and I'd wear the knee in my pants or something like that and she'd just go to— She'd tell me one that kind of thing. But it was an equal type thing. There was— And the other part about that was with the teachers at school. | 5:11 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And I know, I remember my dad threatening me once because I had an ag teacher and he would come by and we'd have our projects and he'd come by and visit us at home. And my dad asked him one day how's I doing in school? He said, "Well, he's doing fine." [indistinct 00:06:16]. Who does, but my dad threatened to decapitate me. He said, "You gotcha get your work." And if a teacher saw it fit to give you corporal punishment in school, well we didn't bring that message home because we get it again at home. | 5:50 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | So it was definitely a— I know you've heard this about where they're talking about takes a community to raise a child. That was true when I was coming up, anybody could discipline in the community. I mean, there was a lady used to live next door to us named Ms. Lizzie. And she saw us getting out of line. I mean she would tan our hides and was my parents blessing and we didn't have all the problems we have now either. | 6:35 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | But it certainly was a, it's a community-type thing. | 7:05 |
| Paul Ortiz | Did you ever feel as a child that the punishment was unfair? | 7:08 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No. | 7:36 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No. Because I'm trying to remember, there may have been a couple times when I was wrongly accused, but it wasn't— I mean, see I knew deep down inside that my folks thought they were right. Okay. And most times they were all right. But a couple times, I was a victim of circumstances, but they never mistreated me or abused me. And so one of the couple times when they were wrong, I never took that as any kind of meanness, or being unfair, or whatever. It was just that, of course I didn't want to get spanking or whatever. Because my mother's the one who would do it and I didn't want to do that. But at the same time, I couldn't get bent out of shape because I know that. But now, interestingly enough though, my brother was— He just refused to take a whipping. He ran away from home. | 7:36 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | So again, I don't know what that does to the mix. But my sisters, they— My parents weren't unfair to any of us. It was just, I think a peculiarity that my brother, plus he used to get into a lot of stuff too. | 8:41 |
| Paul Ortiz | Where would you get the news from during those years growing up? Who would you say the most common news sources? | 9:05 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Well, we used to take the Pittsburgh Courier, Pittsburgh their newspaper. We always had a radio and tell you what we used to do for recreation is we used to listen at the Grand Ole Opry. I mean that would be our Saturday night recreation. But see that the Pittsburgh Courier was basically it. Because when you listen at the radio, there wasn't anything on there about Black people. Fact that we had listen at the Grand Ole Opry tell you what kind of choices we had about entertainment. So as far as news, and sometimes it'd be two or three weeks old, we got it through Pittsburgh Courier. What time is it? | 9:19 |
| Paul Ortiz | As you would read that as a coming up, were there editors or reporters that stood out in your mind and particularly admired opinions? | 10:17 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No, when I got that age, again, we've gotten into the sixties and I was in another world so to speak. I was in the college atmosphere. So I mean, by that time I was reading Shakespeare and all these folks. And so I've developed a whole nother level of appreciation for writing things like that. And I was reading the daily newspapers. But in terms of when I was in that sheltered part of my life, so to speak, in my Black world so to speak, no, just whatever we got there was fine. | 10:36 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And one of the things that I remember about the Pittsburgh Courier is we played, well I didn't play, but my mother, just about everybody I knew played— What do they call it? We call it [indistinct 00:11:41]. And in the comics, they'd have all these numbers all over everywhere. And they'd be searching and they'd find that and they'd play those numbers, it was kind of strange kind of lottery type thing. I remember that vividly. Everybody would be. I remember people coming around selling those numbers. But as far as, no, I mean as far as writers, no, I don't recall that. | 11:18 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, it was kind of a lot— Believe it was kind of a lottery game in the Pittsburgh Courier? | 12:13 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Well no, it was a local lottery game. | 12:13 |
| Paul Ortiz | Local lottery. | 12:18 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | People run numbers, but they look in the Pittsburgh Courier to find numbers to play. See what happened in Pittsburgh Courier, people would just at random, just come up with some numbers. You just put all over the comics and people say, okay, well here's the lucky number. They play it. Sometimes they'd be lucky and get it, but it was a good promotional thing for the Courier. I didn't realize what they were doing until much later. | 12:20 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, the writers in the Courier themselves were putting, they would put the numbers in the paper or people, local people put numbers in paper. | 12:47 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Well, it was only in the comics, only in the comics section. And the people who did the comics section would do it. Yes. | 12:52 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, so it was actually be done in Pittsburgh. | 13:01 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Yeah. Yeah. | 13:04 |
| Paul Ortiz | Would they know that people were playing this game? | 13:08 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | That's why they put it in. | 13:15 |
| Paul Ortiz | [indistinct 00:13:16]? | 13:16 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And they put— See they play them all over the country. | 13:16 |
| Paul Ortiz | Play it all over the country? | 13:16 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Yeah. Yeah. It's this numbers racket. I mean I used to be big time money and I know people used to, they used to come around just like insurance sales when— I mean, they'd come around with a little ticket and they'd sell, I think it used to be a dime or something like that. They'd sell them. Children couldn't buy them for adults. And they said that the number comes out that they'd pay off. They'd come by next week and they'd pay off. So that was very popular back then. | 13:18 |
| Paul Ortiz | What kind of transportation did your family have access to? | 14:04 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Ever since I can remember we had a car. My dad was a mechanic, well self made mechanic. One of the things about him was that he could look at something and he'd take the car, he could put it back together. And so he would always have something to ride. And so we always had some kind of vehicle. | 14:05 |
| Paul Ortiz | Now you entered college in the early sixties was that right? | 14:28 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | No, actually '57. | 14:28 |
| Paul Ortiz | Oh, '57. And you went to Bethune-Cookman? | 14:28 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Well, my first, no, I first went to Savannah State. '57, '58, I went to Savannah State. And then my family moved back to Bonnell. And so I wound up going to a community college. So in an effect, I started all over. So '58-'59, '59-'60 I went to community college in Daytona Beach. Then I graduated from there and Bethune-Cookman gave top two students in the graduated class scholarships. I had no idea how I was going to school and I just happened to finish number two. I got this school scholarship with them. And so I went with them and I graduated '63 with them. | 14:46 |
| Paul Ortiz | Was there an expectation when you were growing up that you would go to college from your family? Or was it more personal? | 15:50 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I thought I'm the youngest of four and my dad said, "Look, if you want it, go. If I have to eat bread and drink water." He said, "If you don't want it, don't waste my time. You don't waste my money. Okay." I'm the only one who said he wanted it. My brother said he want no part in it, my sisters. So I'm the only one who said he wanted it. And sure enough, he went through some rough times, never, never told me to go to work. He just told me to get my lesson. And I mean times were really rough there for a while. I didn't know one time when he was out of work and he said, "No, stay in school." | 16:00 |
| Paul Ortiz | So you wanted to go back and work to help out? | 16:59 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Yeah. Matter fact, I did once my junior year, in high school, the second semester my junior year, my dad had a bad case of appendicitis, in September of junior year and he went to the hospital. He was out of work. So I dropped out of school, my second semester and I worked the rest of that semester and that summer. | 17:06 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And he got back on the street that summer. So he told me to go back to high school, which I really should have gone back to 11th grade. And this is one of the advantages that we had when we had all-Black schools, that kind of thing. I got back, my homeroom teacher told me, he said, "Look, boy, let me tell you something." He said, "Now, you got a good head on your body." He said, "Now, you haven't been doing anything but goofing off." And he was right, I've been doing C's, stuff like that. And he said, "Now, what I'm going to do?" He said, "I want to let you go on to the 12th grade on trial." He said, "Now, if you get your work, you can stay there. If not, you're going to have to repeat the 11th grade." That was my inspiration. I was an honor student. Every single grading period since that point and basically got, for the most part, got scholarships the rest of the way. And that couldn't happen today. | 17:35 |
| Paul Ortiz | What were you thinking about in terms, were you thinking at this point in college in terms of career or more in terms of studying particular subjects? | 18:52 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | When I— See college was, college was a dream. It was a goal, but I had absolutely no idea what it was about. I went to Savannah State, I thought I wanted to be a mechanical engineer. I didn't even know what that was. And I got in the program where they had a machine, they called machine shop practice type thing, where it would give me an introduction to engineering and all that kind of stuff. And I found out that I just wasn't suited to that. Well anyway, after that one year we moved back to Florida. So when I went to community college, I thought I wanted to be an accountant. So my two years in junior college, I majored in business administration with an emphasis accounting. So I got an associate degree in business administration. | 19:06 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And near the end of that I tried to say how am I going to spend the rest of my life sitting behind a desk juggling with these numbers and it wasn't appealing. And then the blessing, I think came when Bethune-Cookman gave me that scholarship, only place in the world I could go. They did not have business administration as a major. And I had gotten into this literature thing and I had a friend of mine, he said, "Well, I'm going to major in English." So I said, "Okay, so I majored in English." So I got a degree in English. And I started teaching high school English after that. But one of the things that happened is I was teaching high school English and I, at the end of the month, I got— I'm making $4,050 a year in '63. Okay. $4,050. | 20:06 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | When I got my check at in the month, I spent it all my check and I still had some bills left. So my wife was trying to help out and so she started doing day's work, maid's work for a publisher, [indistinct 00:21:33] newspaper. And so she told her one day that I was looking for some part-time work. And I honestly was thinking about something like circulation, just delivering papers. Fortunately, a lot of things fell into place for me. It was an afternoon paper, which meant that the paper was delivered somewhere between eleven and one o'clock during the day, when I was at school. So I couldn't. But anyway, we were walking. So he had said he would find something for me to do. So we were walking through the newsroom one day and he said, well, what is it you want to do? And heaven knows that had never occurred to me. | 21:13 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I said, "I want to write." It had just never occurred to me before, but I don't know where it came from. So he said, "Well." This was in '63. And he said, "Well," and this was during all the turmoil with the Civil Rights thing and all that. He said, "Well, we do need a link with the Black community." And he said, "You could be that link." And that's how I got into this business. I started doing little stories. I wound up in sports, doing columns and stuff like that. And that's how I got into the newspaper business. And it just kind of evolved from that. | 22:17 |
| Paul Ortiz | So did you see yourself in terms as actually fulfilling that role as a link to the Black community in the sixties as a newspaper professional? | 23:11 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | It became critical. I had no idea it was going to become that critical because this was during the time when they were debating what to do with the schools, about the integration, and everything. And to give another example. I had started writing columns and people pretty much respected that. I always tried to be rational with what I write. And although I didn't pulling any the punches, but I tried to be rational and not just go off. | 23:24 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | But anyway, one of the things that they did when they closed this Black high school in Ocala, and I guess it's like anywhere else, people get obsessed with athletics. Well, the Black high school had all the best athletes, no question about it, all right. And so the folks knew that they were going to close the Black school, but they didn't want to wait. The White folks now, didn't want to wait until the year until they got the new school built. Because they wanted to get these athletes. | 23:58 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Because these kids, the year before as juniors, they had lost only one game. So they were going be seniors coming up. And so they said, well, we can get all these kids from the Ocala High team, we might win the state championship, that kind of thing. Well, so they decided to close Howard and have double sessions at Ocala High. You had one school that was perfectly fine, but they closed it. They had double sessions at Ocala High in order to get all these athletes over there. And so suddenly now the question is who's going be the coach? The Black guy had been winning everything, right? This White guy over here been struggling. | 24:36 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | But what happened, the school superintendent ultimately offered the job to the Black coach and the coach turned it down. And so the school superintendent called me in and he said, "This is very important," because, it's really, all those times, because people were— I mean, that was a big question in the community who was going to coach? And he said, "I want you to know that I offered the job to EK, and EK turned it down." He said, "The people will believe you." He said, "It's important that you let the people know that EK turned the job down." | 25:19 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And the superintendent, of course, is White. But anyway, I said, "Well, I'll have to talk with EK," because EK was a personal friend. And so EK said, "Man." He said, "I wouldn't touch it." He said, "Anybody who wants to try to win a football game so badly that they're going to inconvenience a whole school full of kids in order to get it." He said, "I don't even want to be bothered with fanatics like that." He said, "No, I would not touch it." He said, "I don't want it. And you can say that." All right, well I did. I wrote the column, wrote the story, and said, "Explain it." The community accepted it. No disturbance or whatever. They just simply accepted it. | 25:58 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And I think probably they accepted that from me, honestly, I don't think they would've accepted it from a White reporter the same way, because my community trusted me. And when we were negotiating about the double sessions and all that kind of stuff, I had to attend these board meetings and I had to write these stories in the paper from the proper perspective so that they were believable. And so as a result, we had no major disturbances in Ocala. And we went through something, major, major changes. | 26:44 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | And I felt that, in retrospect, and I've thought about that, as long as our people believed that we were being treated fairly within the context of the whole thing, that they were okay, they didn't get violent, there were no protests, that kind of thing. And so things went pretty smoothly, Ocala during that time. One the few places in Florida where made it smoothly. And I'm not accepting responsibility for it. But what I am saying though, I think that communication, that clear communication, so that the community understood what was going on, I think that had a lot to do with it. | 27:33 |
| Paul Ortiz | Do you think that the Black media continues to play that kind of role in the same way that you played it as a young writer, considering? | 28:29 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Well, some newspapers, yes. One of the things that we in the Black Crest have to guard against is irrationality. And that is lashing out, being upset, being irrational and unreasonable in the way we react to things. And sometimes we can be incendiary, so to speak. I think we have a responsibility to react responsibly, because a lot of times our readers look to us for leadership and a lot of times they take their cues from us. And so it's important that we are credible, because when we're always lashing out, we are anti-White, or just always lashing out at people, suddenly we're going to lose our effectiveness and then suddenly we become a voice that nobody listens to. | 28:47 |
| Paul Ortiz | And how did you come into starting the Capital Outlook? | 30:02 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Well, I didn't start The Capital Outlook actually was started in '75, 1975 by guy named Steve Beasley, who was a photographer, still is a photographer. He never really intended to have a newspaper. He looked at it as a moneymaking opportunity. He said he'd go to these parties and everything. He said, well, if I print all these people's pictures and everything, I could sell a lot of papers. So in time, I make some money. And so basically was it. But then it went through a couple of hands and then in '91 I got an opportunity to purchase it. And it was at that point that I decided that I wanted to make it a really serious newspaper dealing with issues. And that's when it took on the character that it has now, in terms of the editorial pages, dealing with the issues, challenging government, the whole thing. | 30:10 |
| Paul Ortiz | You at times look to pass African-American newspaper men, such as Emory Jackson, people like that for kind of a spiritual guidance or do you see yourself as part of a heritage of Black newspaper editors? | 31:22 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Absolutely. And actually the two that I look to are John B. Russ-Warren and Samuel Cornish. And they started the first one at 1827. And I often think about that first editorial they wrote and they said, "We wish to plead our own cause, too often others have spoken for us. And I laid out misdeeds out while ignoring all the good things we do. We have an obligation to educate, to be advocates, to inspire." And that's where I get mine my direction. Yes. | 31:44 |
| Paul Ortiz | And if you were writing your autobiography and you coming to perhaps the conclusion and trying to think of the inspiring points in your life or inspirational things that have really kept you going and helped you transcend barriers that you engaged, what would be some of those things? Be person, historical figure, saying? | 32:34 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | I think they are basically two things, other than the obvious, in terms of a family that kind of, I mean things are given, I think. Okay. But beyond that, I think that I teach because I love it. And I've often said that the two things I would do if even if I had won that a hundred million dollar lottery, the two things I'd continue to do is teach and publish this newspaper. And that's because I love them. And to have students 5, 10, 15 years after I have taught them to tell me that I was a positive influence on them, that keeps me going. And to have people to write, to call, not to say we really need the Capital Outlook, that keeps me going. That's what I do. And if there's a demonstrated appreciation for that somehow, some indication that it's doing some good, then that kind of stokes the fire that makes me want to continue. | 33:11 |
| Paul Ortiz | Well, Mr. Wilson, certainly thank you for sharing your time. Do you have any other stories or remarks to share that we didn't touch on earlier? | 35:00 |
| Roosevelt Wilson | Well, I guess, what I have a problem right now, in that— Sometimes I wonder if we've put and made progress when we can have a situation like this gay situation and when just on a strictly racial, along racial lines, people don't see anything wrong with what this guy said. In fact, suddenly the victim becomes the perpetrator. I mean Senate— Now, these students who were victimized by this mean statement, now they are the problem. Because I articulate how misinformed the guy is. Suddenly, I'm denying this guy's academic freedom. This is 1994, so we can talk about Jim Crow, but where are we in 1994? That's my concern. And I guess that's why I'm still out there struggling because I wonder if the issues have really changed, or if the faces have just changed but the issues remain the same. That's what concerns me. | 35:28 |
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