The history of our family.

TALITHA LEWIS

1852 - 1958

Talitha was born in Goldsboro, North Carolina in 1852 and died in Pine Bluff, Arkansas on December 25, 1958 at the age of 105 (I was 15 years old). She was married to Kinchard Lewis and they had a son named Jesse James Lewis (1878–1935). Jesse married Louisa Burch (1876–1949). They had 3 daughters: Mary Jane (1904-1994), Tibbie Ann (1907-1985), Winnie Mae (1908-1981) and a son. One of the daughters, Tibbie Ann married Edward Parks and they had one son, James Henry Parks (my father). Edward was one of 4 sons and 2 daughters born to William Henry Parks and Roxie Ann Tolefree.

During the years of 1936 to 1938 the WPA conducted interviews of ex-slaves and individuals that remembered “Freedom” (the Emancipation Proclamation). Approximately 3,500 people were interviewed in 20 states. These interviews, (in their own words), are in the Library of Congress (Search Arkansas, record #409).
Below is Great-great grandmother Talitha’s narrative in her own words recorded May 31, 1938.

Lewis, Talitha
300 E. 21st Avenue
Pine Bluff, Arkansas
Age 86

IN HER OWN WORDS!
I should say I was born in slavery times! Now if you ask me something I don't know, I couldn't tell you, honey, 'cause I believe in people tellin' the truth.
In a way I know how old I is; I give what my white folks give me. They told me I was born in 1852. Yes ma'am, my young missis used to set down and work on me. She'd say, 'Get it in your head' 'cause I ain't got no education. I 'member my old missis know her name as good as I do mine. Name was Maria Whitley.

After old master died, his property was divided and Jim Whitley drawed me and my mother and my sister. Yes ma'am, it was my sister.

Goldsboro, North Carolina is where I was born, in Johnston County.

Do I 'member anything 'bout peace declared? I should say I do---'member long time 'fore it come. I seed so many different regiments of people I didn't know which was which. I know the Yankees called ever'body Dinah. They'd say to me, 'Dinah, hold my horse,' and my hands would be full of bridles. And they'd say, 'You got anything buried?' (The white folks had done buried the meat under my mother's house.) And say, 'Is they good to you?' If they hadn't a been we wouldn't a known any better than to tell it. I 'member they found where the meat was buried and they ripped up my mother's feather bed and filled it full of hams and shoulders, and there wasn't a middlin' in the lot. And kill chickens and geese! The got ever'thing and anything they wanted.

There was a battle-field about four miles from us where they fit at.

Honey, I can't tell it like I know it, but I know it."

Old master was a good man. You had plenty to eat and plenty to wear And on Monday morning all his colored folks had clean clothes. I wish I could tell it like I know. He was a good man but he had as mean a wife as ever saw. She used to be Nettie Sherrod and she did not like a black fact Yes ma'am, Jim Whitley was a good man but his father was a devil. If Massa Jim had a hand he couldn't control, he sold him. He said I wasn't goin' to beat 'em or have 'em run off and stay in the woods. Yes'n that was my master, Jim Whitley. His overseer was Zack Hill when peace declared.

How long I been in Arkansas? Me? We landed at Marianna, Arkansas in 1889. They emigranted us here. They sure said they had fritter trees and molasses pond. They said to just shake the tree and the fritters would fall in the pond. You know anybody that had any sense wouldn't believe that. Yes ma'am, they sure told that lie. 'Course there was times when you coul make good money here.

I know I is a slave time chile. I fared well but I sure did see som that didn't. Our white folks had hands that didn't do nothin' but make clothes an sheets and kivers. Baby, them Ku Klux was a pain. The paddyrollers was bad enough but them Ku Klux done lots of devilment. Yes ma'am, they done some devilment.

I worked for a white man once was a Ku Klux, but I didn't know it for a long time. One time he said, 'Now when you're foolin' around in my close cleanin' up, I want you to be pertickler.' I seed them rubber pants what they filled with water. I reckon he had enough things for a hundred men. His wife say, 'Now, Talitha, don't let on you know what them things is.'

Now my father belonged to the Adkins. He and my mother was married with a stiffcate 'fore peace declared and after peace declared they got a license and was married just like they marry now.

My master used to ask us chillun, 'Do your folks pray at night?' We said 'no' 'cause our folks had told us what to say. But the Lawd have mercy, there was plenty of that goin' on. They'd pray, 'Lawd, deliver us from under bondage.' Colored folks used to go to the white folks' church. I was raised up under the old Primitive Baptist feet washin' church. Oh, that's a time, baby!

What I think of the younger generation? I don't know what to think of 'em. I don't think--I know they is goin' too fast.

I learned how to read the Bible after I 'fessed religion. Yes ma'am, I can read the Bible, praise the Lawd!"