Yes, and in a minute or two she brought a Negro over, a young man, who
was the Pastor of the Negro church in Marianna, and she said to me,
"He might be able to help you." He and I talked in
subdued tones for several minutes. I told him what I was trying to do,
and I asked him if he thought he might help me and he said he didn't
know. And I said, "Will you meet me at the church, would you
meet me at the church maybe with some of your elders, or just by
yourself on Sunday afternoon?" (The following Sunday afternoon,
it was a weekend). And he said "I'll try to be there."
When the time came for me to go to the church . . . now something told
me . . . I have a little bit of woman's intuition . . . not to go in my
car, to walk there like I was taking a late Sunday afternoon walk, and
when I got there nobody was there, no lights or anything of that sort,
and I decided to stay on the outside of the church. And just about dusk,
cars began to come up the road into the church yard. Now, how they knew
I was around there, I don't know, but they did. There was a ravine that
led from the church down to Marianna. The church was up on a kind of a
hill, and the ravine was full of briars and bushes and everything. They
were looking for me, and they had flashlights and the lights from their
cars, and there wasn't anything for me to do but crawl down the side of
the hill to that ravine. I had told one of the Negro porters at the
hotel what I was doing. I thought I could trust him. Had to trust
somebody, and I didn't dare go in the front of the hotel, so I went
around to the kitchen and he was there and let me in, and he took me
upstairs, washed me and fixed me up, and then just as soon as I changed
my clothes, I went down and spoke to the clerk at the desk, you know,
and then went out on the front porch, just as if nothing had ever
happened. But if they had laid hands on me that night, it would
Page 37 have been the last of me. I am sure of that. The
next morning a fellow, a filling station operator where I traded, from
whom I bought the picture of Neal hanging on the limb of the tree, I
bought it from him . . . when I went over on Monday morning he said,
"You better get out of town, they are looking for
you." He didn't have to say it, but in a matter of thirty
minutes I was on my way to Nashville.