We never had much contact with people of other races when growing up. The town of Huntington had a lot of black people and most lived very poorly.

Dad had planted a large field of beans with intentions of selling them to the cannery in Fort Smith. When they were ready to pick, Dad went to Huntington and hired about 20 people to harvest the beans. There were a couple of men, and the rest were women. There were two boys about my age, and we started playing together. We were supposed to pick beans, but play was more fun.

Finally the other people placed an older lady in charge of the kids to keep them out of their way, and I was asked to stay out of the field.

Since the boys were not picking beans, the lady in charge told them to go to the stream nearby and fetch some water for the other people. I told them that there was a well at the house that had cool water and the water in the stream was not clean.

The lady did not want to go to our house, and acted as if she was afraid. I kept telling her that it was o.k, and she agreed to go with me to get water, if my mother agreed. I was shocked that she was afraid to go to our house, and couldn't understand why. She just said that she was "Colored". It did not made sense to me.

When we got to the house, Mom helped the lady get the water, and they talked by the well and seemed to enjoy it. The lady told Mom how the boys and I were playing in the field, and Mom would not let me go out there again.

The black folks worked for three days in the field to gather the beans. Mom had talked to the lady, and the second day she and a couple of others came to the house and fixed food for all the bean pickers.

The two boys did not come back after the first day, but there was a girl a little younger than I, and I said she was pretty. Everyone laughed, except the little girl. She was embarrassed.

I don't remember there ever being a discussion about other races in our house. We just sort of believed that "They have their place and we have ours". So it was "They" and "Us". Now that I think about it, it seems stupid.

There were stories about a local merchant who's wife was THE social Who's-Who around town. Mr. "X" was well thought of, but seemed to have little to do with his wife. Gossip had it that he kept a black lady on his estate.

I worked for a man who furnished coal to the public, and helped deliver a load to Mr. "X". He lived in a big house surrounded by a high fence, with several out buildings, one of which was a dwelling of fair size, having at least 4 bedrooms. It was a single story building, and had been added on to several times. It was a rather nice house.

Mr. "X" lived in the big house with his wife and had no children. The black lady had 7, and every one looked just like Mr. "X", except they were dark skinned. I realized that the stories had an element of truth.

When Mr. "X" died, he left the big house and a little money to his wife, and the rest of the estate he left to the black lady and the children. They continued to live as they had before. The two ladies seemed to be close to each other.

As I grew up I came to wonder about a society that would prevent the happiness of two people that obviously loved each other. Mr. "X" had found a way, but I wonder how many others did not. As I said years before, that little girl WAS pretty, and her color had nothing to do with it.

I remember going to a large coal mine that had an elevator run with a steam engine. The operator was a large white man who was drunk and sleeping in a shed, and a young Negro was running the elevator. This was obviously common practice, since the white man had a bunk set up in the shed that anyone could see was well used. I thought at the time that the mine could save a lot of money if they would fire the white man. The Negro was getting $3.55 a day, and the white man was getting $10.00 a day