The John Burrison Georgia Folklore Archive recordings contains unedited versions of all interviews. Some material may contain descriptions of violence, offensive language, or negative stereotypes reflecting the culture or language of a particular period or place. There are instances of racist language and description, particularly in regards to African Americans. These items are presented as part of the historical record. This project is a repository for the stories, accounts, and memories of those who chose to share their experiences for educational purposes. The viewpoints expressed in this project do not necessarily represent the viewpoints of the Atlanta History Center or any of its officers, agents, employees, or volunteers. The Atlanta History Center makes no warranty as to the accuracy or completeness of any information contained in the interviews and expressly disclaims any liability therefore. If you believe you are the copyright holder of any of the content published in this collection and do not want it publicly available, please contact the Kenan Research Center at the Atlanta History Center at 404-814-4040 or reference@atlantahistorycenter.com.
This interview begins with Mattie Cook describing the construction and entrance to what she calls her brothers wigwam, even though he isnt Native American. Afterward, Mattie Cook describes washing clothes with homemade lye soap. At 4:00, the conversation moves to food preparation and how moon phases helped determine the best time to slaughter hogs. Then to preserve the meat, they salted or smoked it during the winter, and made cracklins and sausage. At 6:10, Mattie Cook describes how her father cut and prepared wood to construct roofs and baskets. She also explains that her father sold corn and cotton because they were the most lucrative. Next she recalls what she ate for breakfast, and at 10:20, that she and her siblings collected unharvested cotton for quilting. At 12:30, Mattie Cook describes her family home that her grandfather built. Then at 14:00, she recalls her family trying to improve milk production by healing a cows hollow horns and splitting its tail. Afterwards at 15:40, she states that her family traveled to church in an old buggy. Charner and Mattie Cook then discuss the best wood for fires and construction at 18:00. In addition, she recounts her father bringing her candy in an Arbuckle Coffee tin. Next Mattie Cook uses racist language to recount her familys relationship with a Black neighbor, Aunt Easter, who served as a midwife and provided churned buttermilk. Easters family managed their own land, but also dug ditches in the Cooks waterlogged land when it was time to plant corn. At 24:00, Cook describes candies her family made such as syrup taffy and candied nuts, and the trinkets they purchased from a general store, some of which indicate racist connotations. At 31:20 Mattie Cook describes corn shucking parties" where men shucked corn while women and girls slaughtered sheep and cooked mutton. If anyone found a blue or red kernel, their sweetheart would reward them with a kiss. Families hosted pound suppers in preparation for Christmas, which included decorating houses with holly and pound cakes, and playing games such as Laugh and Go Foot. Mattie Cook says that she wore overalls instead of dresses to ride toy horses. Next Charner Cook details date activities such as attending box suppers and singings, as well as serenading new neighbors around Christmas. At 42:00 he then tells two stories, the first about pranking a bride before her wedding, and second a scary ghost story. At 47:00, Mattie Cook follows up with another ghost story about her mother, stopping clocks, and cleaning a dead body. At 49:04, Charner and Mattie Cobb explain that midwives were very important because few women gave birth in hospitals. They also talk about superstitions associated with clocks, holding babies up to mirrors, and owls. Charner Cook says that he once cured his feet of frostbite by walking barefoot in his house at 53:06. At 56:00, the Cobbs describe cotton bowl picking parties and elementary school experiences. Starting at 1:03:09, Elmer and Edward Moss play untitled banjo and piano music until the end of the audio.
Charner Franklin Cook (1901-1973) was born in Pickens County, Georgia, to Robert Wesley Cook (1876-1949) and Ada Lovancia Cook (1876-1958). He had four sisters and completed school through sixth grade. Cook married Ethel Miller (1902-1934) in 1924; they lived in Oklahoma and had three children. After Ethels death, he married Mattie Elizabeth Smith (1899-1986), who was born in Cherokee County, Georgia. They had two children and lived in Canton, Georgia. Charner Cook worked as a grain and cotton farmer, a textile worker, and at a chicken processing plant. Before her marriage, Mattie Cook worked as a clerk and owned a cafe, and later in life cleaned laundry. Elmer Moss (1921-2006) and Lonnie Edward Moss (1929-2017) were born in Pickens County, Georgia, to Omer Grant Moss (1887-1978) and Della Smith Moss (1893-1970). Elmer Moss worked in the automotive industry after he married Lois Mealer Moss (1925-1977) in 1939. They had six children. After Lois Moss death, he remarried and had a seventh child. During the 1950s, Lonnie Edward Moss worked as a pipe fitter. He married Mozelle F. (1928-2014) in approximately 1945, and they had one child together, Lanelle Moss (1949- ). After Edward and Mozelle Moss divorced in the early 1950s, he married Dorothy Moss (1917-2007).
Charner and Mattie Cook are the collector's grandparents, and were interviewed at their home in Canton, Georgia. They have always been known by the collector as Granddaddy and Granny, and will be called this in the report. They have had a tendency to move around from home to home in the past, but have finally settled in their present home. Most of the people in this area are not people who have lived here all their lives, and many of their neighbors are new people who are moving into newly-built homes. Their son and his family live about a stone's throw away, also on their property. He and his wife and three children are good company for Granddaddy and Granny, as well as somebody to keep out a watchful eye. Both houses are frame, neatly painted and surrounded by a multitude of flowers. They have a garden out back where they grow most of their vegetables and some old sheds and lean-to buildings where there once were chickens and other animals. Granddaddy and Granny are both retired and fill their days with pretty much whatever they want to do. Granny is still the hard-working housewife she has always been, and Granddaddy takes it easy quite a lot. Granddaddy was born January 22, 1901, at "the edge of Pickens County" in Georgia. He grew up here with his four sisters while his father ran a country store and farmed a little, too. Life was just "ol'timey" as Granddaddy described it. His father worked hard at the store and his mother did all the chores around the house. He was only able to go to school about five months out 2 of the year because he was needed at home to help with the crops. Their family was very close then, and most of their amusement was found at home or in the church. All of his sisters are still living, and they will say that Granddaddy was spoiled since he was the only boy. Granddaddy lived at home until he married for the first time. He and his wife had four children - two boys and two girls - and his wife died shortly after the birth of the last child. Granddaddy married Mattie Smith on June 28, 1934, and fifteen months later they had a son, the last of their children. Granddaddy just worked "here an' yonder", but worked the longest at the chicken plant at Canton. He would walk to work, and then walk back home in the evenings. He and. Granny lived in several different homes, all of them around Canton, though. Now Granddaddy just sits and roams around alot, since Granny does most of the household chores and Wayne, his son who lives next door, does most of the gardening. He has a slight heart condition, and the doctor won't even let him watch wrestling anymore. He is still tall and straight for a man of his age. He takes pride in being as slim as his sons are. His hair is cut in a short crewcut, now a mixture with more white than blond, and he continually rubs the top of his head. He wears his traditional slacks and shirt, khaki-colored, which he thinks will do for even funerals. It takes a lot of talking on Granny's part to make him wear a coat or a tie for special occasions. Granddaddy drives into town most every day to meet with his buddies in the court yard in Canton. There aren't many left now, 3 only about three, but they sit around in the court yard and discuss pretty much everything there is to talk about, and finally end by trading pocket knifes. Granddaddy has been known to make his share of good and bad exchanges. His greatest worry, though, is that soon all of his buddies will be gone. Granny was born February 17, 1899, at Sharptop in Cherokee County, Georgia. Her father worked as a carpenter to support his wife and six children. Granny had four sisters and one brother, and had a close kinship especially with her other sisters. She, like Granddaddy, came from a country family that did not have much money. They grew a lot of their own food, and all the children helped out in the house and the garden. Granny said their house was always clean and warm even though it never was fancy much. She lived at home and worked at various jobs before she met Granddaddy in her cafe in Canton. She later sold the cafe and she and Granddaddy married after a short courtship. She inherited a ready-made family, but was used to big families and said she like it that way. Granny is still very active around the house. She cooks, cleans, sews, does gardening, and still has time to put up preserves and baby-sit for her new grandbaby next door. Granny's short and heavy and is almost Always dressed in a homemade dress and an apron. She says that all the women on her side of the family were heavy, and she puts up with a lot of kidding from all the family. Having visited Granddaddy and Granny since the original collecting, they have expressed their delight in recalling for 4 me some of the old-timey things they used to do. They were eager to help and in doing so remembered pleasant memories of traditions that seemed to fade as years went on. They said the world is just moving too fast nowadays, and because of this, children are not satisfied with the simple things they used to spend their leisure time doing. They have so much, that there is no need to think up things to do that don't cost anything. Like Granny said on tape, "to us it was happy, happy days". Note: In the tape, Ricky is their 12-yr. old grandson from next door. Bill is my husband. 5 Charna: Okay, Granny, I want you to tell me about old-time shucking parties. Granny: Well, we would go out an' invite 'em - they'd all come in - the boys an' the girls, an' the of women with their longtailed dresses on, they'd git in the kitchen an' they'd do all the cooking. They'd kill a mutton an' have a big to-do about it an' the girls they'd want to be with the boys a lot an' they'd slip an' go out to the barn under the shed an' help shuck corn. Granddaddy: to the crib . . . Granny: Now, you shut up . . . an, uh, if the boys found a ear of corn with a red grain in it, or a blue grain in it, he'd quit shucking then an'. grabbed his girl an' hugging an-' kissed her. So that would be over for a little while an' then here way back over in the crowd this big circle sittin' around the shucks, another boy'd find a ear an' he'd proceed to hug an' kiss his girl. So all that went on an' so suppertime come the old women'd call 'em in to supper an' we'd have a big to-do. Our fathers back at that time would kill a mutton an' we'd have a big supper an' eat all we could hold an' then we would - the old women about that time'd have the quilt out an' then we'd come then with the homemade candy, made outa' syrup, an' we'd pull it an' pull it, an' the boy'd git, uh, have a long stick of it pulled an' twisted an' boy'd git on one end of it an' the girl the othern an' they'd eat on that candy til they met, an' when they met on that piece of candy, then they kissed agin. Charna: There was a lot of kissing going on, wasn't there? Granny: Yeah, I think that was mostly what it was fer was the kissin'. An' then Pound Suppers, we'd have Pound Suppers. My daddy always let us have one ever winter. An', oh, back at that time in the country the unpainted houses) but we'd have 'em clean an' we'd git holly and decorate and put "Merry Christmas" on the table an' pound cakes'd come in an' ever thing. Well, the boys'd git 'em a girl, ya know, a partner, an' come in and they'd eat together an' then they'd, when they got through, they'd go off in the living room or whatever you'd want to call it back at that time an' they'd play games. Charna: What kind of games? Granddaddy: Laugh and Go Foot. Granny: Laugh and Go Foot er Spin the Bottle. Charna: Is that what Laugh and Go Foot was? Granny: No. Charna: Well, tell me what Laugh and Go Foot was. Granny: Well, Laugh and Go Foot was, now I was gonna come later on that, but that's whar one school spelled agin another. Well, we'd have Laugh and Go Foot, too. We would line up on each side and one could outspell the othern would haf to go foot if they's at the head, if they spelt that word an' they come along an' missed it. They'd haf to go foot an' it made you feel mighty bad when you had to go footin'. I'd ruther stayed ahead. So back then, well, in our schoolin' we didn't study too many books but I 7 always liked my spellin' the best. An' I turned down one whole row one time on 'stomach'. Charna: Stomach? Granny: S-T-O-M-A-C-H. You know back then they didn't have too many books to study, but I thought I's doing somethin' great when I turned the whole works down an' got back up ahead. Charna: Well, did you play spin the bottle just like kids play it now? Granny: Yeah, we'd all circle around an' somebody'd spin it an' when ever it pointed at, the boy got to kiss that girl. Charna: What if it pointed to a boy? Granny: Well, the girl'd kiss the boy. Charna: What if it was a boy spinnin' the bottle and it pointed to a boy? Granny: Well, they'd do it over. Charna: Well, that's a pretty good idea. Granny: Well, that's about all I can tell you about that. (Omit 87-112) Granny: Hand me my can. Charna: Granddaddy, I want you to tell me about how ya'll used to play Laugh and Go Foot. Granddaddy: Well, a bunch of us boys and girls'd git us a partner an' git to facing one another an' two'd come on each, girl on one side an' boy on'tother an' tell 'em what to say, ya know, an' what they's saying if they laughed they'd haf to go down to the foot agin an' then they'd have to come ro back up agin, after the . . . Charna: What kind of things would you say? Granddaddy: Well, just whatever they told us to say, it didn't matter what. Charna: Was it nasty stuff? Granddaddy: Well, no, hit's just . . . Charna: Funny? Granddaddy: It was just funny, that's it, and if you laughed you had to go, you and your partner had to go down to the foot an' if they'd come back agin an' some more'd laugh they'd haf to go down. Charna: Did you used to play any other kinds of games besides those and Spin the Bottle? Granddaddy: No, well, danced a little. Charna: What kind of dance? Granddaddy: Square dance. Charna: Okay, tell me about square dancing. Granddaddy: Huh? Charna: Tell me about square dancing. Granddaddy: Well, I's a straw beater part of the time. Charna: Straw beater? Granddaddy: Yeah, fiddler player, you know, fiddler be a playin' the fiddle an' I's beating the straws. Charna: Oh, what did you beat on? Granddaddy: We'd run two sets at one time. Granny: Beat with a straw brush. Granddaddy: You had to git that straw out there and beat it just 0 right. Whew - - I beat the straws one night 'til I give out. An' the guy pullin' the bow across the fiddle, he went to the jug one time too many, an' I's glad of it. I was gitting tarred. Charna: Well, did ya'll have square dances very much or was that just at parties? Granddaddy: Gosh, yeah. Charna: Did you use to play your banjo sometimes at square dances? Granddaddy: No, I didn't have time. Charna: Too busy dancing? Granddaddy: Yeah, there's one of guy he, he played , he played the fiddle an' he had a fox race on it. I caught the trick on him. He'd be a playin' that fox race an' he'd git ready to quit, he'd holler just as keen an' loud an' it'd knock shoe heels off. I knocked some off, but I learned when he went to playin' that I'd brace myself. I knowed what was a'comin'. Everbody'd stand there and they'd jump. Even sprinkled flour on the floor. Charna: Why? Granddaddy: ;,Then you's goin' around, if you wasn't careful, down you'd go if your toes'd hit the side of the wall. Yeah, we had lots of fun. Charna: What else did you used to do? Granddaddy: Huh? Charna: What else did you use to do for fun? Granddaddy: For what? Charna: For fun. Did you use to have movies back then? 10 Granddaddy: Movies? I didn't know what they was. Charna: What would you do when you went on a date with a girl? Granddaddy: Go to a singin'. Charna: A singing? Tell me about those. Were they at church? Granddaddy: Yeah, an' then they'd have singin' schools. Charna: What's that? Granddaddy: Well, learn to sing. I'd work hard all day an' walk three miles to a singin' that night. Charna: What, did you meet your girlfriend there or did you walk? Granddaddy: There was a crowd of us would go along. Go to box suppers. Charna: What did you do at box suppers? You had to buy the supper? Granddaddy: Well, buy a box. Didn't matter if they knocked it off fer ya. Didn't matter what it cost. I paid from thirty cents to three and a half fer a box. Charna: Three and a half dollars? Granddaddy: Yeah. Charna: Whose box was that? Granddaddy: Huh? Charna: Whose box was that? Granddaddy: Well, it's one of my cousins I bought. I didn't know whose box I was buying. Granny: Git him to tell you about the serenade. Charna: Tell me about serenading. Granddaddy: Huh? Charna: Tell me about serenading. 11 Granddaddy: Serenading? Charna: Yeah, singing to your girlfriend? Granny: Goin', you know . Granddaddy: Oh, we'd go serenading somebody new move into a place an' we'd serenade 'em. Charna: Oh, like when they just moved there or when they were just married or something? Granddaddy: No, they'd move from someplace to anothern, an' go'n serenade 'em. An' shoot dynamite gun an' we'd ring bells an' beat pans. Granny: How 'bout that war with wax - wire - to make a racket to sceer 'em. Granddaddy: Oh, that there's a - you'd make a dummy out some,wheres an' wax, take bee's wax an' a string an' saw it an' git 'em sceered. Charna: What, were these people that you knew though, weren't they? Granddaddy: Yeah, they wouldn't do nothin' but just stand in the house an' holler, some of 'em. Granny: Well, how 'bout that time you went disguised in, an' this woman tried to git aholt of you. You had on a dress. Granddaddy: Oh, that was Christmas time. I had on ol'-Santy's wife suit, 'nother feller he had on of Santy's suit. I had all the suits. I got in the house. They's in the bed. We'd go through the beds through Christmas time, go in the house. An' this woman reached fer me an' she just, I just did get back, keep her from grabbin' me. 12 Charna: Why was she trying to grab you? Granddaddy: She knew who I was. Charna: Oh. Granny: Tell 'em how . . . Granddaddy: I'd get home about two o'clock of a mornin', an' sceer folks 'n kids around me runnin' so fast. (Omit 247-270) Charna: Ya'll didn't use to have church weddings back then much? Granny: Didn't know what they was. Granddaddy: Didn't need 'em - cost too much. We got by cheap back then. Charna: Didn't cost much back then. Daddy told me that it used to just cost a quarter to go to a movie. Granddaddy: Two fer a quarter. Granny: That's the only time . . . Granddaddy: Me and Granny, first time we ever went to a show, it cost, we got in two fer a quarter. Granny: He wouldn't take me, only when it was two fer a quarter. Granddaddy: That's right. We hadn't been together but a time or two. We went together three weeks an' we married before we found out one another. Charna: Would you still have gotten married if you'd found out one another before? Granddaddy: I don't know. Granny: You take an' of widower, though, an' an old maid their lives, there's no tellin' what they're liable to do. (Omit 29)4-355) 13 Granny: My mother way back yonder they was a bunch of boys and girls an' she never was afraid, she never was afraid of ghosts ant one of their neighbor women had died an' her an' her two sisters was gonna go ant sit up that night with the dead, an' on their way there, that was back when the old rail fences was in style. Well, there's a man lived on that road that had a whole an' one of them women loud an' they thought ghost, an' she holler, says it ain't nothin' she had to pull'em to bunch of cattle and sheep an' all, grabbed Mother and screamed real she's gonna die, said she seed a =d and Mother says you didn't do it, So they went on, kept a'goin', get'em to go on with her, an' when they got there, Mother stopped and looked over in the fence corner, there's a little sheep'd layed down had raised up, hit'd got up, hit'd been laying down, an' it was white an' that's what that woman'd seen an' it sceered her, sceered her to death. Charna: Did ya'll have any, used to have any old customs that you used to do when people died? Did you used to cover up the mirrors with black? Granny: No. Granddaddy: Stop the clock. Granny: Stop the clock. Charna: Why did you do that? Granny: Well, that's a custom yit. I know when MaMa died over t Felt an' Stellers the night she lay a corpse, Felt stopped the clocks. 14 Bill: Why? Granny: I don't know that's the way they done 'em way back yonder. Bill: Custom? Granny: Yeah. But back yonder they didn't have funeral homes, you know, an' way back yonder they didn't, an' when a woman would die the neighbor women'd go in an give her a bath an' dress her an' they would set up thar at the home with 'em, but as for funeral homes there wasn't no sich things. My mother's helped dress and lay out a lot of 'em. Bill: You mean the women would . . . Granny: Bathe the women. If it was a man, the neighbor men would bathe the men an' dress 'em. Bill: Is that right? Charna: You know back a long, long time ago, too, ya'll didn't use to have babies in the hospitals. A lot of women had . . . Granny: No, they had midwives. Charna: Did you know anybody that was a midwife? Granny: No. Granddaddy: Yes. Granny: Well, yeah. That Stancher woman was a midwife. Granddaddy: Oler Aldrech. Granny: Oler Aldrech was a midwife, an' she got perty good pay fer it. She'd go around along with the doctor an', well if the doctor couldn't go, she'd go herself. She could wait on 'em. She was kinda trained fer that. Charna: Did she have a license or anything, or did she just . . . Granny: I imagine she did. I don't know. 15 Granddaddy: Yeah. Charna: Did people pay her for this. Granny: Yeah, she made her livin'. Her man never would work. He'd stay on the bank a fishing an' she had to get out an' do something for a livin' - raise her children. (Omit 438-489) Ricky: I heard that in the families there was a certain kind of clock and they'd wind it once a day and if it stopped before the night was over somebody in that family would die. Bill: Before the night was over? Ricky: Before the night was over. Bill: What was that you said about the owls? Granny: The hootin' owls? Bill: Yeah. Granny: Oh, yeah, back yonder when we lived in the country, we'd have a farplace, you know, and burn wood. An' a hootin' owl git close around, my mother, if she didn't do it some of us children would, grabbed a shovel an' stick it in the ashes an' it'd hush. But if that didn't stop it, why just tie a knot in the bedsheet. Bill: And that would stop it? Granny: The corner of the bedsheet, an' it'd hush. Bill: Is it bad luck for an owl . . . Granny: It's bad luck fer an owl to holler close to the house. It's a sign of a death. (Omit 52)4-570) Wei Charna: Did you use to follow the signs? Granny: Well, yeah. Bill: Tell us about it. Granny: I know when Bobby had his operation fer appendicitis, well, I wanted the signs to be right. If the signs is in the feet, you don't have as hard a time, you don't come as near bleeding to death. It's better for the signs to be in the legs or feet on any kind of a operation. (Omit 58)4-624) Charna: Ya'll tell me about the cotton bowl picking parties now. Granddaddy: Well, they'd just pull off the bowls. An' get out an' pull off bowls an' have a bowl, have 'em in the house, a crowd come in that night an' pick 'em. Of course, they wasted lots of cotton ere you got through with it. Charna: What, did ya'll save it all up? Granddaddy: Yeah, they'd call it rat tail cotton an' take an' sell it. I went to a cotton pickin' one night, a crowd of us did, an' I couldn't, it's dark going home that night. An' it's dark cause we didn't have no lights with us. Way in the night, we picked his cotton off fer him. I got home an' there wudn't nothin' cooked to eat, an' I had to go to bed hungry that night. Charna: Well, did you ever go to any Granny? Granny: Cotton pickings? Charna: Uh, huh. Granny: Yeah, me an' Vera we run a cafe an' we had been in it about three year an' hadn't had no rest so, we sold out 17 an' we went up to your Grandmother, other Grandmother's an' stayed a week. We got out there an' ice spewed up an' picked off cotton bowls to git up a crowd of young folks thar that night, you know, pick cotton on bowls in the house, an' we kinda had atacky party too. f put on some britches open behind instead of front an' put my left shoe on my right foot an' my right shoe on the left foot. Brother, we just had a time. (Omit 683-752) Granny: We thought back then that was the good of times. Wasn't such things as wars and young men going gitting killed; to us it was happy, happy days. (Omit 763-921) Edward and Elmer Moss are the collector's uncles. They were taped at their sister's home in Tucker, Georgia, while visiting there. Neither of them really lives in a country atmosphere now, although they were raised on a farm, but they have enough of the old-time tradition left in them to really play out some tunes. Edward was born July 29, 1929, and Elmer was born August 25, 1922, on a small farm in Talking Rock (Pickens County), Georgia. There were five children in all, and the farm grew almost as the children did. More rooms were added to the original threeroom house. In fact, Grandpa says that when he and Grandma married, they were given a cow, some quilts and a bed; they had to build the house themselves. Their father, Grandpa, was a postman, delivering mail in a horse-drawn buggy, while Grandma took care of the home and garden. They also raised chicken, with a few pigs and cows. The tract of land on which the farm was and still is located is several acres and is covered with pasture lands, trees, and streams. There were outbuildings for storage of hay, for cover of animals, for dairy purposes, and for outhouse purposes as well. Both Elmer and Edward lived and grew up on this farm. Tradition took a step down the line when the two brothers learned to play musical instruments. Elmer plays the banjo, the spoons, bangs on cardboard boxes, and makes music out of just about anything he gets ahold to. He learned to play the banjo from his father, W who played at country dances and get-togethers. Grandpa says that he learned to pick the banjo from his father, who made and played them. His father would kill a cat and skin it, using the skin t over the hoops and then would buy brackets from an outside source. Edward played the piano, the jugs, and improvised on a juiceharp. He learned to play the piano from his Grandma, and his mother, Della, before him. They had an old upright piano in their home, and still do, and spent many evenings playing hymns and singing. His mother also played the piano for the church just up the road. Both Edward and Elmer played by ear and neither ever learned to read music. They just played songs that they heard and learned at home. Their home was a country home, and they both worked all day in the fields before relaxing inside with their music at night. Edward would play the piano and blow the jug, Elmer would pick the banjo, and other children would bang on cake pans and beat on cardboard boxes. This was their recreation, and in getting together to try to recreate some of this for the tape, they really enjoyed themselves. Their home was much in the country style. Their mother religiously followed her religion and the signs, made her own medicine, her own butter, and just about anything else that was found in the home other than the furniture. Both Elmer and Edward participated in the old country get-togethers before they married and moved away. They say that now that all the children are gone, these get-togethers just faded away. 20 Elmer married and had six children, he and his family living in more of a city atmosphere. He worked at various jobs in the appliance line before he settled down to a job as manager of an appliance department for the southeastern region of a large department store. He has since remarried, his first wife having died, and his children are all married and away from home. Edward and his wife have one child, married and living in LaGrange, and they have a new home in Cartersville. Neither Elmer or Edward are living in the country atmosphere in which they grew up. The traditions that were so closely knit in this family have faded, but remain much brighter than most large families. There are still many reunions at the farm, where their father still lives (Grandma died in June, 1970). When asked about this tradition of music-making, they said that when they married and moved away, they became involved with the lives of their own families, and didn't have the time to get together so often. They both continue to play instruments, but gradually moved from old-timey tunes to more contemporary ones as their home days grew farther away. They said that as the world goes on, they have just moved with it, but still like to remember days on the farm. The kind of lives they live makes it hard for them to live in a style that is so long removed from them now. John: This is just a note to tell you how much fun it was to get to know something of the old traditions of my own family. I know that I enjoyed it as much or more than my relatives themselves did.
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Professor John Burrison founded the Atlanta Folklore Archive Project in 1967 at Georgia State University. He trained undergraduates and graduate students enrolled in his folklore curriculum to conduct oral history interviews. Students interviewed men, women, and children of various demographics in Georgia and across the southeast on crafts, storytelling, music, religion, rural life, and traditions.
As archivists, we acknowledge our role as stewards of information, which places us inaposition to choose how individuals and organizations are represented and described in our archives. We are not neutral, andbias isreflected in our descriptions, whichmay not convey the racist or offensive aspects of collection materialsaccurately.Archivists make mistakes and might use poor judgment.We often re-use language used by the former owners and creators, which provides context but also includes bias and prejudices of the time it was created.Additionally,our work to use reparative languagewhereLibrary of Congress subject termsareinaccurate and obsolete isongoing. Kenan Research Center welcomes feedback and questions regarding our archival descriptions. If you encounter harmful, offensive, or insensitive terminology or description please let us know by emailingreference@atlantahistorycenter.com. Your comments are essential to our work to create inclusive and thoughtful description.