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Transcript on deposit at The Southern Historical Collection, The Louis Round Wilson Library
Citation of this interview should be as follows:
“Interview
H-0064, in the Southern Oral History Program Collection #4007,
Southern
Historical Collection, The Wilson Library,
University of North Carolina
at Chapel Hill”
Eula Durham and her husband Vernon recall their experiences as mill workers in Bynum, North Carolina. The Durhams discuss the integration of their mill in the early 1970s and the failures of unionization, but their recollections of their lives as mill workers pale in comparison to their vivid memories of their childhood in Bynum and the various colorful ways they found to entertain themselves. Eula's memories of the joys of her childhood are more vibrant than Vernon's: she remembers making candy, decorating Christmas trees with popcorn, and snipe hunting; box parties, spin the bottle, and chicken stews; ball games, carnivals, and stealing chickens. This interview will be somewhat useful for researchers interested in mill work, more useful for those interested in childhood and adolescence in the rural South.
Eula Durham and her husband Vernon recall their experiences as mill workers in Bynum, North Carolina.
[START OF TAPE 1, SIDE A]
How did you first come to Bynum?
I was born and raised here in Bynum.
Who were your parents?
J. M. Durham and Flossie Moore.
Had they been in Bynum most of their lives?
Well, my mother had, hadn't she? But my daddy was raised, well, not too far—back in the country about four or five miles.
Did they work in the mill too?
Yeah, he was a—years ago he was a foreman or a spinner. But that was when all they'd get was cotton, a hundred percent cotton.
How did you get your first job in the mill?
Well, I'd go just as a spare hand. My daddy was boss man, and I'd go, just around in the mills cleaning up. Didn't have no air hose then, had brushes and things to clean off, which I started off. Then I learned to doff, and I started doffing. In a few years when I learned the machinery and everything I got to be a fixer and then got to be a foreman of the spinning room.
How old were you when you started?
I was sixteen.
What was that first job like as a spare hand?
Well, you'd do odd things. They had a sprinkler system, but it was out of
date; it just had fans that blowed humidity out. Then in the summertime
we'd have a sprinkler blowing on the alleys and get it damp, you know,
so the work would run better. And you would have to clean up the frames
all under there on the rockers and idlers and all in there.
How many spare hands were there?
Well, I imagine there was about three, three young boys, and we didn't make but, I think it was—what did we start them off at? About fifteen cents an hour?
What?
What was it the young spare hands made? About fifteen cents an hour to start off, wasn't it?
Twelve and a half cents. That's what I made.
Twelve and a half cents. And then the top pay, other than management, was twenty-four cents an hour.
When was this?
Well, it was in the forties, wasn't it? No—thirties.
That's when you first went to work?
I went to work about …
1929.
I worked some in twenties and then I quit and went back to school and then went back to work again.
You were talking about that sprinkler. What did you mean it made the work run better?
Well, it put more humidity in the spinning room. You had to have a certain amount of humidity. If the humidity got out, it wouldn't run good.
What would happen then?
Well, it would just ball up and the ends come down and it would quit running. You have to have about seventy or eighty percent humidity.
You said the ends would come down. That means the threads would break.
Yeah, and they would ball up, lap up. But now they got a new type. They got a air conditioner, and the air conditions itself. Year round condition. Humidity and heat and everything.
And then your next job was as a doffer?
Yeah, a doffer.
What did you do on that?
Well, I had a certain number of frames. I had eight frames, I believe, then. I was by myself, doffed eight frames by myself. Then I finally got ten, and I finally got twelve frames, doffing. Then it was twenty-four cents an hour, top pay, for doffing.
What does that job involve?
Well, it's a full bobbin—when a frame gets full, just pull it right down, and have an empty bobbin that you put on there and take the full ones off. That's what you done. Then it went to the winding room and wound them on cones and spools, and tubes. That's all they had down here, was yarn. They didn't have no finished products, just yarn. Knitting yarn, hosiery yarn.
How did you move from one job to the other?
Well, they seen I could doff, and I could make a little more doffing, so
he put me on that job.
Is that something you'd done and learned as a spare hand?
That's right.
Then how did you become supervisor?
They put on just one shift then. Then they finally put on two shifts. Then finally they put on three shifts. And they put me on the second shift. I was on second shift. Foreman of spinning.
How were you chosen to do that?
Well, my brother was superintendent. That helped some. then my
uncle was superintendent …
It was a family place.
And then my brother he took his place.
What was the structure of supervision within the mill? How many supervisors were there, and who was above whom?
Well, in the spinning room the only one who was ahead of me was Elvin, my brother. He was superintendent. And I had two fixers under me. They had so many frames to look after. And I had to look after two. And weigh in the yarn. We got too heavy they'd change the frames and we got too light they'd change the frames, get it just right. And that's what you have to do. Look after the help. Keep the time, the hours and the time, figured up. Had to do all that. Now they don't have to do that. They've got a secretary that does all that now.
Now what do the fixers do again?
When frames break down they have to fix them. And change them, they have to change the frames. Change numbers. They get a order for a certain number, say, sixteen—they may be running thirties—well, they would finally go down to sixes, didn't they?
They didn't make many sixes.
No. You see, when they'd come and get ordered, they'd take so many frames off.
Tens. They made a lot of tens.
What does that mean?
Ten, and twelve and six are real coarse.
Oh, that's the number for the thread.
And then the twenty, eighteen, and twenty and twenty-two, twenty-fours and thirties, that's fine, fine thread.
So the fixer's job then was to set the frames up to spin the different qualities of thread.
They'd have to have a certain number of gears to put on there to make that yarn.
And a certain kind of traverse. See, each time you change that frame from one number to another you had to change that traverse. It's a little bitty flag that goes on the spinning frame that carries the thread around. And you have to get that traverse right, or it'll cut those threads down.
What was this about weighing the yarn?
Well, you weigh it. You got the guide to go by that, and it's got to hit close to that number. Say if it's twenties, it's got to be around 19.60 to around 20.0. They'd tell you some time, they'd specify how they wanted it, what twist and everything, how much twist and everything. And you had to try to get it that way.
And that was the supervisor's job?
Yeah. And he'd bring the order in there to me and I'd tell them what it was. What gear to use.
How many supervisors were there?
Just one. My brother was the only one.
How many foremen?
Well, they had one in each department, the card room, the spinning room, and the winding room.
They didn't have nary one in the winding room then. The
spinning room was in the winding room then. And now they've got one in
every little corner. And don't none of them know nothing. That's the
truth if ever I told it in my life.
No, they're doing all right, or else it wouldn't be running.
What were your relations like with the workers?
Well, we was all raised up here and I knowed them all. Then, young boys staying around here, they'd learn to work in the mill, but a lot of them don't do it now, they're leaving so much. About half of the help down there now, I don't know them. They're all from other places.
Well, it was just like a big family down there when we was down there.
How do you mean that?
Everybody was raised here, you know, and lived here all their life, and knowed everybody, and was just like a big family. When one of them would get in a hole or something, all the rest of them if they weren't in a hole they'd bunch in together and help them get out, catch up.
You mean in terms of money?
No, in help. In the work. And they'd all catch up and all go outdoors and sing. Have a big time.
How much free time did you have to socialize in the mill?
Just as much as we wanted. John London was one of the best men that anybody ever worked for in their life. He was a manager—plant manager down there—and he loved to see us outdoors. He knowed then the work was running good.
You would go out whenever you got the work caught up?
Yeah. Just go out and sit down. I have gone out and sat down as much as an hour's time. Go back and catch up my work and go back again.
And what did John London think about that?
Oh, he loved it. He said one time he loved to see them set out like that, he knowed the work was running good.
Did you hear him say that?
Yeah! John was really good to work for.
Did you know him very well?
Yeah, I knowed him. He was raised over here in Pittsboro. And I know one
morning a bunch of us was sitting out there—he come in at
eight o'clock, and we went to work at seven—we was sitting
out there in the window one morning when he come in. He come in, and he
stopped and said, "Has the mill stopped off?" And some
of them said, "No," and he laughed, he said,
"I'm glad to see it running good." Said, "All
of y'all out here having a good time."
He's still head up there.
But now, you can't even stick your head out the door. They don't even want you to talk to the one next to you.
They got it leased now to Tuscarora Cotton Mills. I don't know how that is. But John's still got a lot to do with it.
How about Arthur London? Did he ever come in to the mill?
That was his daddy.
That was his daddy. Oh, do you mean little Arthur?
No, I mean John's father.
Yeah, he come in. He was another good old guy.
Yeah, he was a good fellow.
One time me and this girl friend of mine went across the river over here.
Had a spring over here in the edge of the woods and we caught up one
morning and we walked over there and got us some water and sat down on
the ground and was hunting four-leaf clovers. He drove along and
stopped, said, "What y'all doing over here?" We told
him we come after a drink of water and found some four-leaf clovers. And
he brought us on back to the mill and we went on and caught up. And he
started leaving we was back out doors again. He said, "Y'all
back out again?" We said, "Yeah. Come on and carry us
and get us a co-cola." He said, "You mean you want me
to carry you to get a co-cola?" We said, "Yeah, carry
us to get a co-cola." He brought us over here to Durham's, got
us a co-cola and brought us back to the mill.
Do you remember any times in particular that he did get mad?
When he didn't talk, you knowed he was mad. When he didn't have nothing to say you knowed he was mad. But most of the time he was a pretty good old guy.
What would he get mad about?
Well, work or something or another. He didn't ever get mad at the hands much, it was always the niggers that worked in the yard most of the time or something like that. He would have a spell. But most of the time he was a pretty good old guy.
What type of work rules were there in terms of how much time you had to be in the mill, freedom to leave?
Well, long about then, they didn't have any rules. At all. Not when I was working there.
They didn't have no lunch room then like they do now.
No, they didn't have no lunch room then.
Little joint up here, a piece of walking from the mill, was the only place you could get drinks or things. Didn't have no box or nothing in the mill.
And when I first was working there you didn't have water in there. We had a cooler, and we'd go up to the well and get a bucket of water and put in that cooler and get us a chunk of ice and put in.
Where was the well located?
Right there above the mill. Had some good old times down there.
How did people handle—you know, if they had complaints about the work?
Well, they'd usually go to the foreman, the one that's ahead of them, in the spinning room or carding—the department they was in. Sometimes if they didn't think they was doing like they should do, they'd go over them and go to the office out there. If he thought his boss man wasn't doing like he ought to, he'd go over him. Go to the head man, and see what he'd do about it.
Did anybody ever do that to you?
They have done it, haven't they?
Yeah.
But that's changed now. I don't think they want you to do that much. They told them down there not to do that no more, didn't they? Wade Barton told them not to do that.
I never did go to my boss man or superintendent or nothing about nothing. Not till this company took over, and we didn't get along at all.
That wasn't his name, was it?
What?
Wade.
Wade—Gardner.
Oh, Gardner. I said Barton.
What was wrong that you didn't get along?
Cause they didn't know nothing. And you couldn't tell them nothing. They
learned theirs by books, and I learned mine by
Have there been any other changes under this new management?
Yeah, they have rules to go by—I believe they still got them, I don't know.
You got a certain time to go eat, you got a certain time to take a break, you got a certain time to do anything—to smoke. They've got you timed.
In the winding room every two hours they have a break, a fifteen or twenty minute break. And they're supposed to clear out of the lunch room when they're… There's so many of them when they all go in at one time. They're supposed to have a break of their own and they fill the lunch room most of the time when they go in. Every two hours they have a break.
But I'm telling you I took my break when I got ready. I told them I had been working in there and never had to call on nobody to help me. I kept my work up, and I had sense enough to know how long to stand, and how long to stay away from my work, and I'd go when I got ready. And me and him had a fuss about that one day. I said, "Well, when you catch my sides balled up and me a-setting in here then you can come after me. But if my sides ain't balled up, don't you come in here after me." I said, "Cause I've been here a whole lot longer than you have." He never did come after me no more.
How does that compare to the way it used to be?
It just ain't no ways like it used to be. No ways. When you worked then
it didn't run bad. That cotton was altogether
Mostly now it's synthetic blends, polyester, acrilan.
When it balls up that filter can't take care of it as fast as it'll come out there.
What do you mean by "balls up"?
The end will break and you see the end goes through some rolls, goes through the rolls and mashes that thread out just like foam or something. Sometimes it'll be a pile that big. And that old blower come along right down and sometime will tear down a whole side end, if you're not there to catch it. It's a mess.
They have pneumafils now that catch it before it falls, and sucks the waste out into the waste box. And sometimes it gets stopped up, it gets so much that it'll just cause a lot of ends to come down.
A cloud of dust.
But it used to, the old frames had revolving scavenger rolls—what they call a scavenger roll, most of them called it a lap stick then. They'd just catch the end and they'd go around the lap stick. The spinner would have to come along, take that thing and strip it, and put it back. They've changed that new frame so they're not that way.
Yeah, but I like them lap sticks better than I do these old things.
And they're spring-weighted now, the drag system on the spring where you
got so much weight on each roll. There's three top rolls and there's
three bottom rolls, steel ones. And used to be a strip
Didn't none of them know how to weight it down, though.
So you think that most of the problems of the work running bad is because of the synthetic material:
Yeah, and another thing I think …
If they get top grade of it …
If they get good grade of stuff, it runs pretty good. But they ain't.
If they fall off and get the lower grade of some kind, it'll make probably a little more profit out of it. But I believe what they say, they're trying to run a good grade of fiber in there.
Well, I ain't been down there since last February.
They have some yarns that have so much cotton in it, 85/15, 50/50, sometimes different blends. Whatever they specify they want.
If they put all cotton back down there again I'd take a job. I don't like
that mess. It's something. Long back yonder when work was running, his
brother whole lot of times he'd catch up, his brother would go to the
house. And his daddy had an old Model A car. He'd go to the house and
steal that car, run down there and we'd load up. And had a road that
went down, you know, down by the river, come out over yonder on Mount
Gilead Road. And we'd load up in that car and
How old were you?
Fourteen. He said, "I want every one of you back in that mill right now." He marched us back in the mill. Well then, they had an old elevator, that you pulled ropes and would carry you up. Well, we studied after we seen his feet go up in the spinning room. One of the boys got up on the platform—and the winding room was down in the bottom, we walked up on the platform to go out there. He got up on there and whistled, motioned that he'd gone upstairs. And we took off again. TomHearne, poor soul, he was way I was winding and he was weighing up yarn. He said, "I tell you right now, you kids about to worry me to death." Said, "You can't keep you in here to save your life." Said, "The man's coming back there getting ready to kill every one of you."
Was that soon after you went to work? How old were you when you first went in the mill?
Yeah. Well, I was thirteen, and I would be fourteen in August, when I went to work.
What was your first job?
Winding. And I went from winding to spinning. And I spun for years and years and I went on third shift—they put a third shift on down there—and I went to doffing. Then I doffed a while, then they got another new man down there on third, he put me a section hand, running a section. And I run that, six months.
What is that?
Keep all the frames, you know—bad rollers and things that the
hands would take out—put in, and something the matter with
the end or something they couldn't make run, they'd break it back and
you had to fix it. All the dirty work. Then that new company took us
over and they hired all them colored people, hadn't none of them been
nowhere but in a cotton field. And you talk about a mess, honey, I had
to learn all of them. Lord have mercy! Some of them would learn it; you
didn't have a bit of trouble in the world with them. And some of them
you could stand there and show them till judgment day and wouldn't know
a bit more what you said than he did when you started. There was one old
big fat colored woman down there. She'd been down there about four weeks
and she never had got to where she could put up ends. She told me one
night, said, "What's the matter with me?" I said,
"I don't know—me or you one is dumb, I don't know which one it is." She left, she never
did come back no more. But some of them made good hands, and they're
still down there.
When did blacks first start working at the mill?
When this company took over—when was that?
Yeah, on the inside. First time they worked on the inside. They had some on the yard, but that was the first time they went on the inside.
What year was that?
It was 1973. 1972 was when they took over. 1972.
Some of them was good and some of them—well, they still got some good ones down there that was leanred, you know, when the mill started.
Frank worked with one or two up in the opening room before they come in, but in the spinning room—no, they never done spinning.
Oh yeah, Lois Wilson, you know, she was the first colored woman that come in there to work. And they put her to sweeping.
When was that?
About '72, weren't it?
'72 was when Tuscarora signed the lease for it.
Well, this here was before Tuscarora took over, when this gal come to work.
Yeah, they started putting them in, because John started working some. Equal rights—equal opportunities—they was going to complain about it.
How did the rest of the people in the mill react to that?
Well, they done pretty good, didn't they?
Yeah, they done pretty good. Never did have no trouble with them at all, as I know of. I don't know of any of them ever had and trouble with any of them. They was nice, and all the whites treated them nice. They got along good.
Did any of the whites complain?
No, I never heard none of them complain at all. Got along mighty good, I think.
Yeah, and they do now, down there.
Well, I tell you, that's a pretty good bunch of black ones that works down there. All of them. A pretty good bunch.
Where do most of them come from?
Around Pittsboro, around in the country.
Don't any of them live around here in Bynum, do they?
No, they all come from out on Siler City Road, and around Pittsboro, and back up here in the country toward Chapel Hill.
So most of them are driving in, I guess?
Right. They're oh, pretty good, I think. Never had no trouble with none of them.
Well, let's go back to your job as a supervisor …
A foreman.
I mean, as a foreman. What were your relationships with the workers outside the mill like?
Well, outside the mill, they got along all right, I reckon. They all knew one another and was raised up together and we was just like home folks. We got along all right.
Did the… Let me cut this off for a few minutes.
[Interruption]
Where did you live at that time? Were there any special houses?
We lived on the hill a while, about two years I believe, wasn't it? The
company they had owned these houses all the way down the hill. We didn't
have nothing but the… My brother built
Were there any houses that were reserved for the supervisors?
Yeah, they had one over here close to the mill, top of the hill close to the mill, for the superintendent.
How about the foremen?
No, they didn't have any specialized for them.
Did any of you live close together?
Well, I lived over there on top of the hill and my brother lived in the superintendent's house down here close to the mill. That was about as close as we ever did get.
We were talking about people's complaints. Was there ever any talk of unionizing?
Yeah, they started once or twice, but never could go through with them. Never did.
Weren't some people fired for that?
[END OF TAPE 1, SIDE A]
[START OF TAPE 1, SIDE B]
They knew damn well if she did everything else. I remember that.
He's taping that. You might say something, only he's taping that.
Good.
Who tried to organize the union?
Who was it? Somebody from …
Silk mill. Pittsboro.
First thing I heard of it was they had a meeting up here at the old schoolhouse one time.
It started from the silk mill right near Pittsboro. That's where they started the union over there. And they come down here trying to start one.
Do you remember when that was?
We lived up the road didn't we?
Yeah …
It was down here in '51, wasn't it?
It was '36 or '37, weren't it?
They didn't get nowhere with it.
They tried to unionize one time during my lifetime, I know.
That was when we was up the road, about '36 or '37 one.
I wasn't born in '36 or '37.
Well, that was the second time, then.
They tried several times. It was up in the fifties when I was…
Was 1936 or 37 the time they had the meeting at the school?
About '37, weren't it?
Were there any workers from the mill who were involved in the organizational effort?
Yeah, there was a few, but …
Not many.
How was that meeting set up?
I don't know who started it.
I don't know either, 'cause I didn't go. Didn't want to give up my freedom for a union then.
It was exactly the opposite.
They never did go through there, never did go. They still don't belong to no union down there.
How did you feel about it?
I wasn't never boss man then; I was just a regular hand. I just went with the crowd. I just go along with the crowd up there. I don't know what all they—I don't even remember who they were—the leaders were, that started it.
What did you think about it?
Why, I didn't… They come in there and told me to come on and I said, "I'll not do it. I can go outdoors when I get ready and come in when I please and I ain't paying that union nothing." Several got mad about it. I didn't care.
Did a lot of people feel that way?
Yeah. The biggest majority of them.
They didn't really understand it, did they, Mama? They didn't understand what the union was all about.
Well, they had a bunch of dumbheads trying to tell you. The union's a good thing if you had somebody, you know—but the ones that come over here messing with it from Pittsboro, they had just started in to that union and they didn't know what they was doing.
What did they tell you when they tried to get you to come in?
Lord, I don't know. They had the biggest rigamarole, that you could do this, and that you couldn't get fired, that the union would stand by you, and they'd do this—you ain't never heard such a meeting.
How did John London react to that?
He didn't like it at all.
Did he ever say anything to you about it?
He didn't say nothing to me about it. I know he didn't like it. He run them away from there one time.
Some of the organizers?
Yeah, They come down there and set out down there. He come in there one day at dinner—he run them away.
Did he ever say anything to the employees about it?
Not that I know of.
How did the superintendent and the foremen react?
My uncle, Edgar Moore was superintendent then. My brother he was a foreman, a supervisor on the second shift. My daddy he was a foreman in the spinning room. They didn't go along with it. They didn't go along with the union at all.
Did John London ever say anything to them about it?
I don't know whether he did or not. I imagine he did, though. Course they weren't for it noway.
Do you remember how they felt about it? Anything they ever said?
They just didn't like it. They didn't want it.
Do you know why they felt that way?
I just don't know—whether they thought it might hurt them in the long run, or what. I don't know.
That was the first attempt. When was the second?
That was just before Mr. Moore retired, weren't it? Well, I believe that was a bunch that second time…
Well, I didn't know much about that …
I didn't either 'cause they kept that quiet.
I was foreman then, and they didn't let me know nothing then.
Do you remember about what year that was?
I sure don't.
Just roughly?
I don't. Do you?
No, I don't. They went around and told certain ones. It was kind of a secret. Just told certain ones, you know. They thought they could get, you know, so many of them and then the rest of them would have to join.
We were talking about people getting fired a while ago. Did people lose their jobs if they got involved?
I don't know.
No, they might have threatened, sent something around that they might happen something if they got involved, but I don't think they ever fired anybody, do you?
No, I don't know if they ever fired anybody. I never heard tell of it.
Were there ever any strikes?
Yeah, they struck down there, but it didn't hold up either. I don't think they ever went through with it, did they? They broke it.
The doffers struck.
Yeah, they'd just go out and sit down. And then the winders and spinners struck one time. It was when Uncle Edgar was there.
Do you remember when any of those strikes were?
It was in the thirties, weren't it?
No, they's been one since then.
Well, have they had any trouble like that since this new bunch…
No, I don't know.
No, I don't believe they have.
Not when I was working down there.
Oh, since this new group has come in they're making better than they ever have.
Why did those people go out on strikes?
Probably wasn't making enough, or overworked, or something. Didn't make enough for what the work they did, or something.
Were either one of you involved in either one of those?
No.
Did they win?
I don't think so. I don't believe they did, did they?
Naw. No, I know one time, the spinning room went out there and wanted more money or something, and John told them he'd shut down before he'd give any more, and they went back to work.
They make good down there now. More than they ever have.
It ain't like it used to be.
Were there any hard feelings among the workers after some went out and some refused?
Yeah, some of them got kind of ticked out about it, but didn't take them long to get over it. They come around and wouldn't speak or nothing, but it didn't amount to nothing, cause sooner or later they had to call on them. Didn't amount to nothing.
What do you mean they had to call on them?
For help, or something.
You mean the other workers in the mill?
Yeah. I know one woman she went out with that bunch of strikrs down there one time. She come over to me, said, "Come over here and help me—I ain't never seen such a mess as I'm in. Please help me some." I said, "I'll not do it. If you'd been in here like you ought to have been instead of out yonder striking," I said, "You wouldn't have got in a mess." And she went for a long time didn't speak to me, Lizzie Neals.
Do you remember any other instances like that?
No, I don't believe I do. But this she got so mad at me that day, she went up in. Well, she didn't even want to join the union. Well, she had a lot of curiosity, and she wanted to find out what was going on. She was a big old fat woman and she couldn't run no sides noway. She nosed around out there till she ain't never seen such a mess as she was in. And I was helping around that day. "Come on over here and help me some. I won't never get out of my hole." I said, "I'll not do it." I said, "Cause if you'd have been on your sides like you ought to have been instead of out there nosing around, you wouldn't have been in that mess." I said, "I ain't going to do it."
How long did the strikes last?
They didn't last long.
About an hour or two.
Oh, is that all? I had the impression that they lasted much longer than that.
No! About an hour or two.
Did John London usually come up and say something?
No. I don't know whether he did or not, cause I never was out there.
Uncle Eddie was superintendent down there, wasn't he?
Yeah, he was superintendent then.
We were talking about the thirties. Do you remember the general strike in 1934?
'34?
Yeah, when I think the mill workers all over North Carolina went out on strike.
Oh. Well, I don't remember anything about it.
I don't think they did down here.
No, Henderson Cotton Mill over here, they had some bad trouble over there with striking, but didn't have no trouble around here then.
There were groups called flying squadrons that went from mill to mill to try to shut them down. Did any of them come to Bynum?
No, I don't think so.
Not that I know of.
This might not have been a large enough concern down here for them to visit. But they really played havoc over here at Henderson Cotton Mill.
While we're in the thirties, earlier you said something about the NRA. How did the mill run in the depression?
Well, we'd go to work at six of a morning and work till six at night. Get a hour for dinner. And I was spinning then. And I was making twelve and a half cents an hour. And when NRA come in, they raised me to thirty-four cents.
When NRA come in, it was thirty cents. Forty hours, thirty cents an hour.
Yeah, I thought I was rich. I wound when I first went in there, and some of them would work six days. Now we worked till dinner on Saturday.
We worked sixty hours a week.
Yeah. Worked six hours on Saturday, and it was about five or six of us winding girls, we'd count up what we'd made on Friday night and if we'd made five dollars we didn't do nothing Saturday morning.
Before NRA come in, there was a depression. It was on short time down there.
Yeah, I know it.
And President Roosevelt come in and he changed it, put it over on forty hours a week, thirty cents an hour. And all over forty hours paid time and a half. So, that's what caught them napping. We was working they didn't do it then, but eleven hours a day but the depression come on, they went to working eight hours a day—like you was on a vacation. Just being to eight. But during the depression, things was bad.
Lord, yes.
How bad did it get?
They come down to about ten cent an hour, and on short time at that. You done good if you made seven or eight dollars a week. We weren't on unemployment insurance—no, we didn't have any. But now, if things get dull now—if they don't make as much as twenty-four dollars a week, they can draw unemployment.
How did that affect people working in the mill?
What—the unemployment?
Yeah, when they cut wages and hours back so much.
Everybody like to starved. That's the truth.
How did you make it through it?
I don't know. Just survived some way or another.
A company house on the hill, only was about fifty cents or a dollar a payday, rent.
Oh, the three-room houses was fifty cents, and the four-room houses was seventy-five, and the five-room houses was a dollar. That was every two weeks. That was what they paid for rent every two weeks. And they paid that till this company took over. They paid that until it was sold—no, I believe it went up to two dollars on the houses, didn't they?
Might have went up some then.
Yeah, and then after this company bought them and took over, then they sold the houses to the ones that wanted to buy them. The ones that lived in them and wanted to buy the house, they sold them to the ones that wanted to buy them. And the ones that didn't want to buy them, then they rented them. But the most of them that lives in them over there now, they own—bought. And there's some man had bought a lot of them houses over there. Yeah, Wolf. And he bought a lot—about three.
Four, counting that other one.
And there's two girls over there that works in Chapel Hill, and go to school or something, live in one of them. And the house where they live in was fifty cents a week, and now he charges one hundred and twenty-five dollars a month.
A hundred and fifty. Somebody told me a hundred and fifty dollars a month.
No, Carrie LEE said, that lived in front of them said she said that they paid a hundred and twenty-five a month. And the house used to rent for fifty cents.
We were talking about the depression. What did you do to keep from starving, if wages were that low?
Well, you had to scrimp and save, just eat anything you could get a-hold of, that you could make a meal off of. Most of them though worked out in the field, you know, for people and farmed, worked in the fields, and most of them had gardens and things like that. They all got along pretty good. But NRA come in. I know one man—he's dead now—that lived over there. He said that weren't such a thing as milk gravy. He said he eat Hoover gravy. He said that finally somebody had a cow and he'd buy a quart of sweet milk a week from them. And he said that he'd eat so much milk gravy till every time he seen a cow he said, hello, lady, how are you? But he said he eat water gravy, and he hoped he'd live long enough to see Hoover eat water gravy.
How did people around here feel about Hoover?
Well, I don't think they thought too much of him, cause you see, everybody had, you know, just a pretty good living. So he come in and starved everybody to death. I don't think too many people nowhere liked him.
What was the reaction to Roosevelt?
Oh, they loved him. Boy, he pulled them out of the ditch. They loved him to death. Well, everybody everywhere I've ever heard say anything about him—well, it wasn't only in Bynum neither. It was everywhere. Everybody was in the same ditch everywhere. I know I heard a friend lived down here below Pittsboro down here in Asbury—old woman—and she said that if she hadn't had a good garden and if she hadn't had her own pig and cow that she didn't know what in the world she would have done. She sold milk at ten cents a gallon and butter fifteen cents a cake and she said she had some hens, she sold eggs. I've forgotten now how much she said she sold the eggs for. And said that's the way she dressed her younguns to send them to school, from what she sold.
Did people pull together and help each other out?
Yeah.
What type things would they do?
Well, if they had a lot to eat or anything, they'd divide with other
people. And Bynum's always been good about that. If anybody here ever
gets down or sick or disabled to work or anything, they've always been
good to chip in and help them out in every way they could, give them
money or give them food. Bynum has really been good about that. I've
been here about all my life and I don't know of nobody here that ever
would have sickness or anything like that but what somebody would chip
in and help them out. There was a lot of old people here then, during
that depression, that weren't able to work at all. And I've knowed the
younguns around to go clean out their yards and help them clean the
house, and do things like that, where they didn't have no money to hire
Were you ever involved in anything like that?
Well, no, I went to work at the mill all along then. All I had to do, I had to work. Cause there was twelve of us. I had to work, but I had a sister that did. She done a lot of helping out, you know, around, different people and all. She was younger than I was. But they all been mighty good around here about helping out each other. That depression got everybody. I know my mama, along then I said I didn't know what a new dress was, nor a pair of shoes till I got old enough to go to work. I wore hand-me-downs, cause there was twelve of us, and whenever one would outgrow anything mama would—she could sew, and she'd take that thing and cut it down and fix it so the younger ones could wear it. And when they got where they couldn't wear it and they hadn't wore it out, she'd patch that thing up and fix it up and the one down below you got it. I told everybody I didn't know what a new dress was, or a pair of shoes until I went to work.
Did you get to keep some of your money when you went to work?
When I went to work, my daddy give me twenty-five cents payday out of my check. Well, they didn't pay off in checks then, they paid in money. And he'd give me twenty-five cents and I thought I was rich.
What did you do with it?
Law, this old man live up above us and ran a little old store. When I'd
get my quarter on Saturday morning I'd run up there and I'd get
me… Then they had, Oh Boy chewing gum, come in a long stick
about that long and about as wide as your two fingers. And they was a
penny. And Mary Janes, they come in a long thing then, weren't them
little short things. Come long, about like that, you know. They
The ants knew your hiding place!
Yeah, they just eat my candy up, and my Oh Boy chewing
gum! Boy, when you got a big piece of candy then, or chewing gum, you
was really setting pretty. Got an old doll, one Christmas—the
only thing I remember in my life getting as a kid. An old doll, about
that