Not really. A lot of people didn't then. Actually my mother didn't,
either. They didn't pick you up and hug you. They didn't kiss you or say
goodnight to you or anything like that. When Maverene was born, I was
two years old that day. After that I knew I was on my own. Mama said I
would put myself to bed at night. If she looked around and missed me,
she might look for me and I'd be in there in the bed asleep. I'd go to
bed on my own and do for myself. I learned that I had to look out for
myself. I was fairly independent. I grew up to be independent and take
care of my own needs. But, you know, Mama took care of us, but I
remember Maverene sitting on her lap a lot, but I don't recall ever
sitting on either parent's lap, ever. I do recall one time visiting
neighbors. Walked to visit them, that next door neighbors down the road.
This was the black family that lived close to us that we thought so much
of. I played with the little girl named Dorothy. We called her Dot. We
had walked down and visited them. I remember—I might have
been four years old, it's one of my earliest
Page 6memories. They stayed a long time. They would talk about the old times
and we would play. Walking back home Mama carried Maverene and he
carried me on his shoulder. That's the only time I ever remember being
carried—picked up and carried. I did—Mama would go
out in the field and work. We were on our own to entertain ourselves. I
think I might have been four—that's one of my earlier
memories too—just barely remember it. She went out after we
had barned tobacco and she went out in the field to pick peas and I knew
where she was. So I decided I would go find her. It was getting near
night, late in the evening, afternoon. I walked out to the field to find
her and I didn't find her where I thought—she probably went
out to the other end of the row and came back to the house a different
way and I didn't find her. I walked out to the old tobacco barn and I
was tired, so I crawled up in one of those old tobacco
trucks—had wheels on them and they had burlap up on the sides
and I lay down in that wheel truck and went to sleep. So they started
looking me. They missed me and didn't see me, so they wondered where I'd
got to. They couldn't find me. They just knew I was lost somewhere, so
they became frantic. They had all the neighbors looking for me. It was
getting dark. I woke up and I walked to the house. It was a good little
distance from the house. Oh, they were just overjoyed. Where have you
been? I thought, what is all this commotion about? I knew where I was. I
was not lost.
[Laughter] You know I didn't
even take it too seriously because I was not lost. I knew where I was.
That was their problem if they didn't know where I was. I went home when
I woke up.