Sandra Morse interview with Parks Hosey, Lenora Harvill, and G.A. Harvill

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. Note: This recoding contains racist language. This interview starts with Parks Hosey stating he was born in Madison County, Georgia, near Danielsville. As a child he moved to Athens, Georgia, then in 1907 to Atlanta, Georgia. Hosey tells a story called Has Mitchell Come Yet? about an old tramp, a little house in the woods, and talking cats. Next, he tells a story about an African American preacher and a grizzly bear and sings When Summer Comes Again and Old Wooden Bucket. Hosey refers to African Americans with derogatory language in the second story and one of the songs. The interview continues with Hosey reminiscing about when the river in Athens froze during the winter of 1896 and he rescued his brother after he fell through the ice. 12:00: Next, Morse interviews her grandmother, Lenora Harvill from Athens, Georgia. Lenora Harvill tells a ghost story about a murdered man that haunted a house in a cotton mill community near Columbus, Georgia. She then talks about how her grandfather brewed beer with locust, persimmons, and sugar. Next, Lenora Harvill discusses wash day, when an African American woman, who made her own lye soap from hog intestines, would come to wash the clothes and the children would help. The interview continues with Lenora Harvill describing Christmas at her grandmothers house; the family would get together with neighbors, square dance, have a corn shucking contest, and sing carols. The interview concludes with G.A. Harvill, Morses grandfather, telling two jokes. One about a traveling sewing machine salesman and the other about a stable hand. Parks Hosey (1876-1970) married Fannie Erwin Dorsey Hosey (1876-1945) in 1907. The Hoseys had two children, Sarah Frances Hosey Brown (1908-2007) and Robbie Parks Hosey Heston (1915-2004). Lenora Hosey Harvill (1904-1980) was born to Samuel Lee Hosey (1872-1963) and Susan M. Culp Hosey (1877-1932). Lenore Hosey Harvill married Gilbert A. Harvill (1899-1972) and the couple had three children: Mae Sue Harvill Morse (1921-2003), Gilbert A. Harvill, Jr. (1923-2017), and Samuel L. Harvill (1938). FOLKLORE COLLECTING PROJECT Fall Quarter - 1967 for John Burrison Sandra Morse 2042 Silvastone Dr., N.E. Atlanta, Georgia 30329 INFORillNT: Mr. Parks Hosey, age 91. Mr. Hosey was born in Daniels ville, Georgia, in 1876, moved to Athens, Georgia, at the age of 10, and lived there until he came to Atlanta in 1907. .He came from a family of 7 siste Y'S and 4 brothers, and is the sole survivor, except for one younger sister. He worked for the Athens Banner until he was 21, printing billheads and envelopes on a manual press. He later held jobs with Raihmy Express and the Coca-Cola Company. He worked from age 10 to 80. This material was collected at the home of his daughter, Nrs. Frances Brown, in College Park on November 18, 1967. Mr. Hosey's mailing address is: Mr. Parks Hosey 3979 Herschel Rd. College Park, Georgia 'l'RANSCRIPT: NORSE: My first informant is Mr. Parks Hosey. Nr. Hosey, when were you born? HOSEY: 1876. !'lORSE: And where were you born and where did you grow up? HOSEY: I was born in Athens--I mean, uh, Madison County, over near Daniels ville and I grew-stayed there till I was 10 years old and we moved into Athens and I lived in Athens till I was 31 years old. !lOHSE: And when did you move to Atlanta? HOSEY: 19 and 07. I heard a story long time ago 'bout an old tramp. He's gain' through the country. It was rainin' and cold and he's way out in the woods like and he saw a house, saw a light in the house up on the hill, so he went up there and knocked on the door and asked the lady could he spend the night there, said he's (sic) cold and rainy. She told him that she didn't have any room for him, said he'd have to, said there's a little house down on the creek there. He could go down there and spend the night, said there's some wood already in the house and you can make you a fire. So he went down to the little house and built him up a fire and sit there enjoyin' it, gettin' warm, and here co~e a little bitty 'ole cat come in. The cat walked in there and looked at him and went over to the fireplace and scratched out a coal 0' fire and chewed on it and s\;allered it and went over in tne corner and sit down and looked up at the man and says, "Has Mitchell come yet?", and the man says, "No, Mitchell ain't come yet." So he sat there a while longer. He's lookin' around and here come a Qreat big 'ole cat come in. He walked in and he looked at the old man and went over and scratched out t,;o coals 0' fire and he eat them. He sit down b./ the other little cat and turned around and asked him, says, "Has Mitchell come yet'?", and he said, no, l!Jitchell hadn't come yet. 2 The old man looked and looked. Directly here come a great big 'ole cat, dang nearly as big as a calf. He come in and he scratched out three coals 0' fire ,md he ate them and sat down by the other two cats and said, "Has Mitchell come yet?", and they said, no, }'Jitchell hadn't come yet. So the old man, he got up and looked around and held his hands in \A.liJ-,~j) If ) ,J" I] front a' the fireplace and looked around again and says, ""iell, tell A Mitchell when he comes that I was here, but I'm gonet" MORSE: O.K. The name of that one was "Has ~Iitchell Come Yet?" Do you remember where you learned that? HOSEY: Oh, when I ,las a boy in Athens there. I don't know where, who taught it to me, but I learned it. I haven't told it right, I don't guess, but then that's about the way I remembered it. MORSE: Alright, the next one one you're gonna do is called "Grizzly Bear". Are you ready for that one? nOSEY: Yeah. "GRIZZLY BEAR" An old nigger preacher, he got up one Sunday mornin , and he decided he'd take a walk out in the woods and so he decided he'd carry his gun along with him. He went on walkin' around in the woods and he met a great big 'ole grizzly bear. The bear started after him and it scared 3 himso bad that he dropped his gun and run and climbed up a 'simmon.tree and the old bear come a-jumpin' up and jumpin' up. lie got scared and he said, commenced prayin', he says: "011, Lord thou delivered Jonah out 0' the mouth 0' the whale, Delivered Daniel out 0' the lion's den, And, oh Lord, if you' can't help me, II For goodness sake don't help that bearl (This is a cante fable, with the last four lines being sung) MORSE: Do you remember where you learned "Grizzly Bear"? 1I0SEY: That was in Athens,' too, but I don't know where I leArnt it and how I learnt it, but us kids had a "hole lots 0' stories told and one tiling and another and that's l<here I learnt it, in Athens >Jhen I l<as a boy. (I tried to get him to tell me something about these storytelling sessions, but he said he didn' t'remember enough to tell about them.) NORSE: The next one is "A Nigger From Tennessee." HOSEY: Alright. "A NIGGER FRON T.ENNESSEE" c tt\'t There's a nigger from Tennessee, as black as he ~Quld be. To church and Slmday school he'd never go. Well, they asked him to reform, Cause they said that he l<ouldn' t live long. 4 And he broke up the congregation when he said: I'se gI'ine-a live and-a how lmtil I die. I kno,J this life I'm a-livin' am mighty high. You can take sticks and stones, break on m' bones And I know you're gonna talk about me when I'm gone, ')0111\ (t, But. I' se[a-gwine ~Jlive and a-how until I die1 HOSgy: I got a cold1 MORSE: You said you learned that one at a minstrel show. Is that ripht? HOSEY: Yeah, a minstrel sho",. I learnt that one at a minstrel ShO>I when I ",as a boy ill Athens, there at the opere house. MORSg: Alright. The next one is "Hhen Summer Comes Again". I once knew a maiden of tender grace, Laughing blue eyes and a winsome face, Also a youth who was springing with truth, Got married one day in spring. Through the hot summer they knew no fear. The mills all closed down and the ",inter gre", near. Then ",hen the lad was gloomy and sad This is the song he'd sing: 5 Sweetheart, fond heart, from your side I will never part. We will be together, love, in sunshine or in rain. Don't be repining, what is the use of complaining? We will be happy, love, when summer comes again. }lORSE: Do you remember where you learned that one? HOSIW: Walter Conway, the preacher's son, he-both of us was workin' on the Barmer. He was a young man (Some men were putting1:a heating unit and were drilling at this time and the tape is unintelligible) HORSE: This one's called "Old Oaken Bucket". "OLD OAKEN BUCKET" How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood When fond recollectionSpresents them to me. The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wildwood, And the old wooden bucket which hung in the well. The old oaken bucket, the moss-iron bound bucket, The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well. (I'm not sure how "l"olky" this one is, but he wanted to sing it) (The next two stories are personal anecdotes. He seemed to remember more of these than he did stories and songs. The first one is about one year when it got cold enough in Athens for the Oconee River to freeze. The second is an example of folk honesty in the old days.) 6 }!ORSE: You were tellin' me a story about one year when the river froze over in Athens. HOSEY: Yeah, I can't remember the exact year it was, but round about 18 and 96, somewhere along there, the river froze plumb over there in Athens and us boys 'ud go out there and play on the river and skate up and down and so forth. My brother, he got into a soft place and fell ;,'1, ,,) tbrough./\ lJionder I hadn't-a fell ill with him, but I pulled him out. He 'us cold alld we 'us about a mile away from home, so he had to go home, had ice on his clothes when .,e got home. V,e had a time and when I'd go to work every mornin , I just run across tt~ river instead 0' gain' across the bridge. HOSEY: I remember when I was a boy. I reckon I ",as about 8 years old, somethin' like that. My mother and I went to Mr. Scott's. Mr. Scott owned the house we lived in. They lived about a mile from us. V,e went over there and I 'us playin' ",ith George Scott and Hill Scott alld they had a harp. They played the harp and they layed it down and we played around alld so when there wasn't nobody lookin' I stuck: the harp in my pocket and got home and I went out behind the barn, commenced playin' it. My mother heard me playin' the harp and she knowed where it come from. 7 She called me in there and she made me carry that harp back to ScottI shouse. It was late in the evenin'. It was nearly dark and I had to run all the way up there and back before dark. ( He is referrin" to a jew's-harp in this story.) (I had recorded Mr. Hosey previously, but erased part of the tape. I introduced the songs on the tape because of the previous session and because he tended to forget to give tbe name of eacb piece before he began. ) IN FOHMANT: Nrs. Lenora Harvill, age 60, my grandmother. She was born in Athens, Georgia, in 1907 and lived there until she came to Atlanta in 1919. Her mother was half Seminole Indian, and she had two sisters, one of whom is still living. This material was collected on November 19 at her home in Atlanta. The mailing address is: Mrs. G.A. Rarvill 1842 Marlbrook Dr. N.E. Atlanta, Georgia THANSCRIPT: MOHSE: This is Mrs. Lenora Har'fill, my grandmother. I'mna, when were you born? HAHVILL: In D07. r10RSE: And where were you born? HARVILL: I was born in Athens, Georgia. MORSE: O.K. You were FOlma tell me a ghost story. HAH'fILL: Alright. About a mile from where my grandparents lived in the country there was a small cotton mill community. You know, the people in cotton mill commurdties as a general rule are very super stitious people, and I was fascinated I'ith a !'host story the older people, the ones I'ho had lived there a long time, used to tell. They said that a man had killed another manl/dol'n there. In fact, IV) I cd tk'Q ))o,JSe f ; he had cut hi.s throat Hith a razor. And so they saidth<:. that blood II on the floor--the floors of Course Here unpainted at that time-- and they said no matter what they did they could never remove those blood stains that "as on the floor. And so shortly after this murder Has committed, 'Ihy they said that they could see this murdered man sloHly Halkin' around the house after dark. And so every time a new family Hould move into the neighborhood, Hhy that Hould be the first thing that these people Hould tell' em. They'd tell them not to move into that house loeca use it was haunted. And so the house stayed vacant until finally the mill officials ordered the house torn dOlm. Did you ever see the chost? HARVILL: I never did see the ghost because I--that hadlJ2appene~.years before and VIe j dst heard about the stoq from th~,.p:;oplet,!}tfJ; had lived there, because the hOl;se had ""en torn dOim when I VIas a little girl. MORSE: NoVl your mother was part Indian and you Here tellin' me a story she used to tell about a parrot. HARVILL: Uh, my grandmother lived in Columbus, Georgia, when she "as a little girl, and she told about this family that had a parrot and they had ordered a load of cordwood. People back in those days used wooden stoves so they had to have the \,ood for the stove. So they had ordered this corcll'ood and they had gone away. And so when the man came with the cordwood, "hy he says, "Hello" like people in the country usually do. And so a voice says "Hello". And so he says; lI1lJe have brought your ,.ood. And so the parrot says, "Hell, just thro,l it off out there." And so when the man came in to collect his money, I'lhy it I,as nobody there but the parrot. HARVILL: 'IJhen I was a little girl my grandfather used to make beer. And he made it lVith locusts and persimmons and he made this beer in a great bi" 'lOoden keg and everybody would come for miles "ith their steins to dralV this beer. And the lVay he made it, he "auld use a layer of !locusts"and sugar and a layer of persimmons and so and then on and on like that till it made the beer. And I remember drinkin' some "hen I was a child and it lVas real good. NORSE: O.K. You "ere tellin' me about lVash day. HARVILL: When I "as a little girl lVe had a colored "oman that used to come to our house to lVash, and "e had to wash out in the back yard at that time and "e had to use big iron pots and had to use a rub board and used lye soap. vJe \)sed to f'et O,Jr lye soap from our grandp<lrents "ho ahlays made lye soap at home. And uh, lVe--this eolored woman "hen she came to "ash for us, "hy she'd bring all of her children--she had about JJine--and she lVould come and tney would all have to be fed in the mirldle of the day r-IORSE: And hOI' did they make the lye soap? HARVILL: "Jell, when they killed hogs out in the country, why they would take the fat from the intestines of the hog and they would boil that down and they would use lye, put lye in this fat and that I s how they made lye soap. And it was notLing else that you could get really back in those days except lye soap because everybody made their own soap. MORSE: You Were tellin' me 'Jhat you remembered about Christmas when you were a little' girl. HARVILL: We always went to my grandmother's at Christmastime and of course besides all the food eats and thi.ngs we had. at her house .'Ihy the people in the neighborhood and. all vJould have get-togethers e$ and. they usually had square danc:krf' and corn shuckins' and. all those (t\~)Y-f!U\') o{t/S t!,.Iould 30 kind. of things and we would g~ down the road to each person's house . and we'd sing Christma s ca rols and th:i.ngs like tha t and then the people ,Iould ask us in. They'd Give us-,-everybody of course had pies and cakes and all sorts of things like that and it was lots of fun. MORSE: What did you used to do at the corn shuckins'? HARVILL: Oh, the women didn't usually participate in that, but it was the men. You know, they would have so many ears of corn given to each one and the one that could shuck the most corn, it was a prize given. And then usually that would, uh, a big square dance would accompany the corn shuckins'. INFOHMANT: Mr. G.A. Harvill, age 68, my grandfather. between \'linder and Jefferson, Georgia, in came to Atlanta at the age of 10. He has both of whom areliving. He was born 1899, and two brothers, This material was collected on November 19 at his home in Atlanta. His mailing address is: Mr. G.A. Harvill 1842 Harlbrook Dr. N. F.. Atlanta, Georgia TRANSCRIP' : MORSE: This is Mr. Harvin, my grandfather. Grandaddy, "hen and where were you born? HAR'!ILL: Borned in '99 and out from Winder, Georgia. ]V(OHSE: O.K. You "ere gonna tell me a joke about a traveling salesman. HARVILL: Hay back long about 19-05 I was a little kid 'I, 6 or 'I years old. There used to be a travelin' salesman with the Singer se,Jin' machine '1'!Icc\': people; drove a buggy and on the back of the buggy he had this sewin I rna chine. I heard him tell my Dad one time, he "as laughin' abOllt--he was way out in the country and the horse throwed a shoe and he went up to this man's house. 'here ,JaS an elderly couple there and he wanted to spend the night and so the farmer told him, says, well, says, "You'll have to sleep with the baby." And he says, "IVell, that's alright." So the old man, he got ready to go to bed. He went out and got a bi" ole long 8-inch board, put it beb;een there, says, "I'm gonna put it between here so the baby "wn't bother you." So he slept, he never paid 1'0 attention to the baby; baby didn't bother him or nothin I. Got up and they had breakfast and he went out to look around at the chickens and here come a girl up the path beside the fence alid her hat 'blml off. The old man jumped off the wood pile there and "lent to pick up her hat. She said, "Never mind, never mind, old man/)says, "Mlybody can't get over an 8-inch board at night can I t jump no, can't climb no lO-rail fence 1" MonSE: O.K. You were tellin' me a story about a man that stuttered at the ridin' stable. HARVlr,L: Down here in DeKalb County there was a man who had some horses, had a groom there that would saddle the horses for the Agnes Scott girls and all down there. So one day several of the Firls come down and he had one horse was bad about SHellin' up "hen you'd try to tighten the saddle girth on him ar,d every time this girFud go to mount him, why he'd let the wind out and the saddle Hould twist. So this girl told him, said, "Now it's funny to me you can't tighten that tidlt enough:', says, "Put it in the last hole." So this old man says, "ltIell, I-I'll try the best I c-c-can." So he put it j 1st as tight as he could get it and this girl asked him, says, "\\Tell, did you get it in the last hole?" "N-n-no Warn. I d-d-didn't get it in the l-l-ast hole; I put it in the hole next to the l-l-ast hole 1" (This last sentence is obviously a play on words, but he .,as afraid to say it too clearly because he thought my "professor wouldn't like it". I assured him I "anted obscene folklore, too, but this is all he'd give me.) get it in the l-l-ust hole; ] Pl1t it j,I! the hole next to the l-l-ast holcl ll (T1)ls l~jst ser~tHnce 18 obviously a play 011 words J b'ut he \-ldS -'"lfr;;l:id to say it too clearly bec(]use he thotL':ht my ll pro fes30r h'ouldn I t like i.t". J, a;:;8 red him I HdLted obscenC:'; f{}lklore, too, but this is all he'd (~iv0 me.) :, 'I These pictures were taken on November 26 near Hog Mountain in Dacula, Georgia. I had leads on two informants, but they claimed not to remember any stories or anything I could use. Mr. Cecil Green di.d p;ive me some information about his property and alloNed me to take some pictures of' him and his house. The house no,1 belongs to T,veldon and Cecil Green, age 67 and 69, respectively. The house Nas built room by room, from 1908 until 1912. All the property around there used to belong to the Patton family. The early settlers were the Pattons, tlie :lllrrells, and the Pucketts, Nho drew lots and homesteOJded the land. Weldon told me about an old schoolhouse that used to be on their property and which they used as a kitchen and then as a cotton house and a barn. The Green brothers still get their ,later from the well in the picture, and the well doesn't even have OJ pump. In the kitehen they have an old wood stove, which I took a picture of. They no longer use it; they have two electric stoves besides it. The other picture is of a Mrs. Mahaffey. The Greens told me she might know a lot about the history of the area, but she said she didil' t remember anytiling that would be "interestirli'". A PDF transcript exists for this recording. Please contact an archivist for access. 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.