In CopyrightThis Item is protected by copyright and/or related rights. You are free to use this Item in any way that is permitted by the copyright and related rights legislation that applies to your use. For other uses you need to obtain permission from the rights-holder(s).
MP3 file derived from WAV preservation master, which was derived from original analog cassettes.
The electronic edition is a part of the UNC-Chapel Hill digital library, Documenting the American South.
An audio file with the interview complements this electronic edition.
The text has been entered using double-keying and verified against the original.
The text has been encoded using the recommendations for Level 4 of the TEI in Libraries Guidelines.
Original grammar and spelling have been preserved.
All quotation marks, em dashes and ampersand have been transcribed as entity references.
All double right and left quotation marks are encoded as "
All em dashes are encoded as —
Transcript on deposit at The Southern Historical Collection, The Louis Round Wilson Library
Citation of this interview should be as follows:
“Interview H-0180, in
the Southern Oral History Program Collection #4007,
Southern Historical
Collection, The Wilson Library,
University of North Carolina at Chapel
Hill”
Ralph Waldo Strickland (b. 1903) was reared on an Alabama farm and served in the navy from 1923 to 1926. He worked for the balance of his adult life for the Seaboard Air Line Railroad. In this 1980 interview, Strickland explores a range of family and working history themes. His father ran a cotton gin in La Grange, Alabama, while the family farm was mostly worked by Strickland and his brothers. Strickland grew up hearing stories about the Civil War from his two grandmothers; he retells several, adding commentary that includes his view regarding the relationship that prevailed between his ancestors and the enslaved persons they owned. He recalls the first time he saw an automobile, and describes his grandmother's ability to "talk out fire," or use words to ease the pain of a burn, and also her ability to pacify bees. In 1921, the family moved to Hot Springs, Georgia, which was soon to become home to Franklin Roosevelt's "Little White House." In 1923, Strickland joined the navy and served nearly four years (his older brothers had served in World War I); on his return from naval service, Strickland joined his brother, a tradesman, working on the Little White House. Strickland recalls Franklin Roosevelt as warm and approachable and "the most brilliant man that I ever talked to or ever saw in my whole life," and relates stories of their interaction. He notes that the local community considered Eleanor Roosevelt as a bit odd but embraced her nonetheless. Strickland's search for permanent employment led him to the railroads, where his brother Paul was a brakeman and conductor. In March 1927, Strickland obtained employment with the Seaboard line in Charlotte, North Carolina, first as a substitute worker and later full-time. He describes the nature of railroad work, the segregation of railroad jobs by race, the role of railroads in broadening access to goods and services, the dangers of railroad work (including an accident that cost a coworker his leg), and the role of technology in gradually improving safety. Strickland, who married shortly after beginning railroad work, describes his wedding, where he and his wife lived their first few years, and how having a family changed his perspective on life. During the Depression, Strickland had a hard time making ends meet but never drew on government assistance, believing that he had a better quality of life as a result. Advancing to better jobs at the railroad, he grew more aware of the injustices faced by workers and joined a railroad union. He recalls the railroad workers' and coal miners' strike of 1946 and President Harry Truman's role in ending it.
Ralph Waldo Strickland grew up on an Alabama farm before joining the navy and later making a career with the Seaboard Railroad. He offers a range of recollections concerning his childhood in the rural South, his encounters with the Roosevelts following their relocation in 1921 to Hot Springs, Georgia, and life as a railroad worker and union member.
[START OF TAPE 1, SIDE A]
When did you say you came to Charlotte?
I came to Charlotte March 1, 1927.
Where did you come from?
I came from Warm Springs, Georgia.
Is that where you were born?
I spent my boyhood days over in Alabama, Chambers County, but I moved to Warm Springs in 1921.
You say you were born in Alabama?
Yeah, I was born August 21, 1903, Chambers County, Alabama.
Where was that?
Just across the state line, a little place called LaGrange, Georgia. It's sixteen miles west of LaGrange, Georgia in Chambers County on the Alabama side. We moved to Warm Springs—I was seventeen years old—we moved to Warm Springs 1921.
What did your family do in Alabama?
My father run a gin. He fooled with machinery. Run a sawmill, and run a gin.
Cotton gin?
Cotton gin, right. He run a cotton gin for forty-five years. He used to gin three and four thousand bales of cotton every year for a forty-five year period. He also owned a farm over there in Alabama. He never did work on the farm much, he run his gin and sawmill, and grist mill and stuff like that. He fooled with machinery. Us boys worked on it. I plowed a mule till I was seventeen-year-old boy.
So you worked on the farm.
Yeah, till I was seventeen years old. I plowed a mule, done regular farm work over there.
What kinds of things did you grow on that farm?
Just the regular. We row cropped back in those days. There wasn't no tractors much. We row cropped. We plowed the mules, we raised usually cotton. King Cotton was the main, our money crop. We raised other, corn, and cotton, and sugar cane, peanuts, sweet potatoes, all the stuff like that.
How many acres did you have?
My father, he owned one hundred sixty acres of land over there. He fell heir to it through his mother, my Grandma Strickland's estate. He fell heir to that.
My Grandmother Strickland, some of that land was given through a land grant before the Civil War. It was given her through a land grant. Some of the land, she bought for twenty-five cents a acre, and some of it she give fifty cents a acre. That was before the Civil War. My Grandmother Strickland was born 1830. She was an old Civil War woman. I used to hear her relate, when she was a young girl, there were still Indians lived all around through that country over there. All up and down those streams, there'd be little Indian huts when she was a real young girl. She used to talk about it. I believe I was seven years old when my Grandmother Strickland died. She was eighty-eight years old when she died.
What other kinds of stories did she tell you? Did she tell you about the Civil War?
She sure did. Absolutely. I was going to tell you a real good story about
on my mother's side. On my mother's side, my Grandfather Dickerson,
Captain William E. Dickerson, he was a captain in the Confederate Army.
He was on General Lee's staff. My Aunt Lula Maxwell in Augusta, Georgia,
she's got a autobiography framed in gold of my grandfather, her father,
my mother's father. My grandfather, William Dickerson, she's got a
autobiography of his tenure of service. Every battle he participated in
and everything. He was on General Lee's staff, he was a captain, a staff
Appomattox?
Appomattox Court House, General Grant granted General Lee's officers to keep their mounts and their swords, their side arms and small arms—pistols and swords—my Aunt Lula Maxwell has got my Grandfather Dickerson's, all of that down at Augusta, Georgia. She's got his Whenever General Lee surrendered to General Grant there at Gettysburg, he allowed them to keep his side arms and his pistol and his mount. Well, my Grandfather Dickerson rode a horse. He lived down here in Troupe County, Georgia, was his home place. He rode a horse. But when he come through down here, he stopped down here in Sumter, South Carolina, and he met Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederacy. The Southern Confederacy had a bunch of gold, and Aaron Maxwell, my first cousin down in Augusta, he this, and this is authentic stuff I'm telling you, every bit of it. The officers met Jefferson Davis down here in Sumpter, South Carolina. They divided. He gave my Grandfather Dickerson a great big hat full of gold. It was coin gold. The British furnished the southern Confederacy that money to fight that war. They were on our side.
He went on back down to Troupe County, my Grandfather Dickerson did. Jefferson Davis—the Union army was in pursuit, trying to capture him—he run off down here in Cuba. The Union army, that's where they captured him. Captured him down here in Cuba. They brought him back here, and he stayed in the Federal penitentiary for two years. After two years, they gave him a pardon. He went out in Nebraska on a ranch and lived twenty years after the Civil War. That's Jefferson Davis.
Did your grandmother who also lived through the Civil War, did
That's right. My grandmother Dickerson, she was a doctor. She was, we are English. I'm a direct descendant of William Penn, the founder of Philadelphia, on my mother's side. They came from Harlem. My grandmother Dickerson was a great, tall woman, and she relayed it all.
Sherman, he's the man that burned Atlanta, he camped at my grandfather Dickerson's estate a week, a part of his army down in Troupe County, Georgia. I'm talking about my grandfather Dickerson on my mother's side. Sherman camped at grandma Dickerson's place for a week, his army did. Old General Sherman, he's the one that invented this "scorch the earth" policy. Whatever his army couldn't eat and couldn't use and that they took with them, they burned the rest of it. Whenever he left Grandpa Dickerson's estate there, there just wasn't a thing in the world. They burned. There wasn't a livestock or nothing. The first two or three years after the surrender there in '65, they like to starve to death. They had a real hard time. I heard my Grandma Dickerson say she gave seventy-five dollars for a box of matches, and there wasn't but about four, five, or six matches in that box. That was Confederate money that was absolutely no good.
How did she manage without her husband there?
When Grandpa Dickerson left Jefferson Davis down here in South, he rode that horse on back to his homestead.
What did she do during the war?
She was a widow woman. She had some children. My two aunts, my Aunt Lula
and my Aunt Emma, and my Aunt Corrie was born just before Grandpa went
off to the Civil War. When he come back, then my mother was born, and
then she had Uncle Ed and my Uncle William. My Grandma Dickerson had two
sons, then she had one more girl, Myrtle Maxwell. Myrtle Maxwell is the
mother of Bertram Maxwell and all these furniture
Was it on the other side of the family that your grandmother was born in 1830.
Yeah, that's right. My Grandma Strickland, she was born in 1830.
What kinds of stories did she tell you about growing up? Do you remember?
She said, when she was a young girl, she used to talk about the Indians lived all through that Chambers County in Alabama. All through the country there would be Indians. She grew up, and she was a Hudson before she got married to Grandpa Strickland, that's on my Grandfather Strickland's side. Old fashioned woman, she'd sit out there on the porch. She had two mill rocks—I used to go up there when I was just a little boy. She died when I was seven years old.—She had two big mill rocks on the front door, we'd go up there and Grandma Strickland would be sitting up there in the rocking chair. She had a clay pipe and a great big old long cane to the stem. She'd sit up there and smoke her pipe, puff her clay pipe. That was fashionable back them days. She raised her own tobacco. Back then, the people in the country, they didn't have much money, and they raised their own tobacco.
Did she ever tell you any stories about the Civil War?
Not a great deal. Not too much. She had a brother, my Uncle Tom Hudson,
he was in the Civil War. He wasn't an officer, he was some kind of
enlisted man. But Uncle Tom Hudson, he had his musket rifle, he had his
bullet mould, he had a powder horn, and he had his uniform—a
Your wife says for me to ask you about the cow your grandmother had?
Yeah, my Grandmother Dickerson. When Sherman's army camped at my Grandmother Dickerson's estate, when he left there, he didn't leave nothing, but they had a slave girl. They heard that his army was coming, and this slave girl stole this cow and took it off down there on that Chatahoochie River, and hid out. Kept that car hid out until Sherman's army left there, and then whenever they left, she brought that cow, and that's the only livestock that they had on the whole plantation—that milk cow—they plowed that milk cow with some kind of old wooden plow. They cultivated some corn and stuff. He took all the meat and everything. My Grandma Dickerson they'd take the salt out of the smoke house and kept the meat in the smoke house. They'd run water through that salt in order to drip some of the salt. That's how they'd get some salt try to help season up stuff. They'd like to starve to death, the first four or five years. Those were carpetbagger days, right after the Civil War.
Did you say the slave girl took the cow, or did your grandmother tell her to take it?
That's right, she did. Grandma Dickerson tole her to do it. That was done purposely. No, she didn't steal it. Just to to speak, she stole it. She just slipped that cow off down on that Chatahoochie River and kept the hid out. They hid that cow out until Sherman's army left Grandma Dickerson's estate.
That was about a week, right?
That's right. A whole week. They brought that cow back, and that's what they used. They milked her, and plowed her too in a plow. They like to starved to death. They sure really did have a hard time. The first four or five years after the Civil War.
How many slaves did they have?
Grandpa Strickland had twenty or twenty five slaves he owned. He owned Uncle Joe Post, was one of them. After the Civil War, some of those slaves took my Grandpa Dickerson—I'll tell you something else. They talking about going to church, my Grandfather Dickerson used to dress his slaves up and take them to church with him every Sunday. They had a great big place built up in the back of the church, and that's where those slaves would sit back up there in the back of the church. He'd take them to church with them.
He borned the children. My Grandma Dickerson was a doctor. She had a big old—it come from England—had a big old doctor's book, and it was that thick. She got all her information and her guidance. Anything she run across she didn't know about it, she got this doctor's book. She borned the children for them.
Had she had any medical training, or did she just learn it herself from the book?
She didn't go to medical school, she just learned it through practical experience. She could midwife, deliver children, and stuff like that. They borned their children.
Was it putting out fire and bees?
Oh yes. My Grandma Strickland was the one that could do that. Those
Indians, she'd go around. There was an Indian man. A man had to tell a
woman, a woman couldn't tell a man. I don't what the witch-craft about
it, but it was true. Grandma Strickland could talk out fire,
How did she do that?
I don't know. She learned that from this Indian man. There was a Indian man. She learned that stuff from him. I really don't know. I tell you about them warts. What else could she do? She could tell fortunes.
What about the bees?
We were sitting on Grandma Strickland's front porch one time. My daddy
was up there and there was a whole crowd of us up there. It was one
summer day in the warm weather. Grandma raised up. She begin to look all
about, look all about, and all of a sudden, she run out there in that
front yard and grabbed up a plow! What they called a "scotter" plow. She
grabbed a hammer, and she run out across the field. Bang, bang, bang,
bang, beating that plow! Making a hollering and hooping banging on that
plow. We thought she'd lost her mind or something. After a while, she
come on back. She had seventy-five beehives out there in the front
yard—had a long wooden grove—she had these seventy-five hives of bees.
What she did, She had beaten that plow gear
When were your mother and father born?
My mother was born in Troupe County, Georgia.
Where was that?
That's down out from LaGrange, Georgia, near that Chatahoochie River.
When was she born?
My father was born in 1870, and my mother was born in 1873. My father was
three years older than my mother, and they got married—Papa was born in
1870—Mama and Papa got married in 1891. My oldest brother was born in
1893, and my next brother was born in '95.
How did your parents meet?
I really don't know. I never did hear them say.
I know Papa, he lived on the Alabama side. Mama lived over here on, it was just about eight miles from Abbots Ford, Georgia, a little bitty crossroads though it was. It was eight miles across the Georgia line over into Alabama. Horse and buggy days, before they had … I can remember when I was a little boy, the first automobile that ever come to my part of the country. It was a 2-cylinder Brush. A fellow, Elmer Heinz, he was wealthy, had a lot of land and stuff. He was rich, considered rich by everybody. He went over to Atlanta and bough that thing. It didn't have no steering wheel in it. It was a lever. He come driving up. It was just like an old-fashioned rubber tire buggy with a lever, you guide it with a lever. Two cylinder brake, it come up down the road, chug, chug, chug, just a coming down with his lever and everything, just like a buggy. Had on leather gloves and goggles on his eyes, all that kind of stuff. That was 1909, 1910. I was born in 1903. I was quite small, but I can remember. I can remember the things that happened all along since I was four and five years old.
Did all of you children work on the farm? Did your sisters work on the farm as well as you and your brothers?
That's right. When we were young coming along, we all worked on the farm.
My oldest brother went over to Augusta to the Academy of Richmond
County. My Aunt Lula Maxwell—she was a wealthy woman, and all that lived
in Augusta—when Lee was sixteen years old, he went over there and went
to school with Allen Maxwell, my first cousin, Aunt Lula's son, at the
Academy of Richmond County. He finished that, and he went to Southern
Shorthand Business College in Atlanta, and finished there. My
Why did you decide to join the Navy?
I didn't have anything to do, and I didn't want to farm. That farm was pretty hard, tough work back them days. I got tired of the country, and tired of the farm. I wanted to go out and see the world, so I joined the Navy. Took my training up here in Norfolk, Virginia.
That's pretty near where
Hampton Roads, that's where I joined the Navy in 1923 and was paid off December 26, 1926. I put four years in the Navy. I took my boot training in Hampton Roads. I went to that burning school in Philadelphia Navy Yard. I was on a brick-testing outfit for about eighteen months testing fire brick for the Bureau of Navigation. When I was transferred from that testing plant there in Philadelphia, I was put aboard that U.S.S. Cincinnati. That was a scout cruiser, that was between a destroyer and a battleship.
Did you like the Navy?
Oh yeah, I sure did. I joined the Navy as a third class fireman. When I was paid off, I was paid off as second class petty officer, second class ward attendant. Done right well. I had a good time, never was on report, never was up to the mast a single time, made a good mark and a good record. I got a honorable discharge setting in yonder now to show for every bit of it.
What were some of the places you were stationed, or where did you
When we went on board that Cincinnati, we went on a shake down cruise, first trip I ever made at sea. We went from New York to New Orleans to that Mardi Gras. They had a Mardi Gras down in New Orleans. U.S.S. Cincinnati and her sister ship, U.S.S. Concord, two American cruisers, and two British cruisers was down there for that Mardi Gras in 1924 was when that was. Visit that Mardi Gras and all that. After that, we went to Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. We called that the southern drill ground. We took all of that rifle target practice, torpedo practice and all that stuff. After that, we made a cruise the first of 1925. We went through the Panama Canal to the Pacific Ocean. They had that mimic warfare. The year 1925, we stayed out around those Hawaiian Islands all that year in a mimic, both fleets. That was way before Pearl Harbor, and they had all those old battleships was in commission. We had an Admiral, Admiral McCain was aboard that Cincinnati. We had Admiral Porter. All those old battleships passed—he was Admiral of the fleet—they passed in review. The Arkansas, and all those, Texas, and the Oklahoma, and the California, the S.S. Washington, all those old battleships, they were in commission and on that maneuver. There was the Atlantic and the Pacific fleet; it was a combined maneuver in that mimic warfare. All of them maneuvering all around those Hawaiian Islands. We'd go out for a week on maneuvers and have practice and all that. Course, there's a whole lot of that. It's the high admirals, those observers. I was ward attendant, and I'd stand my steaming ward and going top side. I didn't know what was going on a whole lot of the time, but that higher up, that Admiral, they knew what was going on.
Did you get to visit the islands?
Yeah, we gave liberty on five of the islands. Let's see if I can remember
it. Oahua. That's the city of Honolulu is on it. It's
I think it's amazing that you remember.
Sometimes I have a slight mental lapse. I'm seventy-seven years old now. There's five of those islands we gave liberty on.
What did you think of those?
Oh fine, fine. We just gave liberty there in Hilo, Hilo. That's the one the volcano's on. The volcano's on Hilo. Us sailors, we charted one of these little old mini-buses. They tour the islands. We went all through them mountains. That's high country in there. All those old volcano craters, they've got craters all through around in that country there where they had an eruption in past years. We went, took all that in. There's a beautiful, what they call Rainbow Falls; that's the prettiest water falls I ever saw. Now on Honolulu, what they call the on Diamond Head. That's another high range of mountains up there from the city of Honolulu. Going down and look into that ocean, us sailors would stand up there on the side of that mountains and that high cliff, and we'd throw our white hats, throw them off…
[END OF TAPE 1, SIDE A]
[START OF TAPE 1, SIDE B]
We left the
What did your family think of your going away? Were they sad to see you go?
No, they thought it was a grand experience for me. I wouldn't take
nothing for my Navy experience I got in the Navy. If it hadn't been for
that, I might of still been down there on the farm plowing the mule. But
I did get some real good experience in the Navy. I tested bricks for the
Bureau of Navigation for eighteen months, sure did. That's very
important. At the time I went in the Navy, they was converting all those
old battleships. They were coal burners. They was converting those
battleships into oil burners. All those man-'o-war's, they was
converting them from coal burners to oil burners. That's the point that
they sent a bunch of us boys to that oil burning school. They were
having to relign those boilers with those firebrick. They got to
withstand a lot of … Commander Norton was in charge of that oil burning
school. He put me on a brick testing outfit there. I'd take an oil
atomizer and shoot 48,000 btu right against those bricks, that
tremendous amount of heat. I had an optical perometer and I'd take
readings every thirty minutes, go around and take readings. I'd record—I
had a log—I'd record all that tremendous amount of heat and find out at
that fusing point where the bricks would begin to melt and give way and
melt down. A yard photographer used to come up there and take pictures
of the walls after I tried to burn them and melt them
Did you say one of your brothers went to college? Which one was he?
My oldest brother Lee. He went to the Academy of Richmond County. He finished that, and then he went to the Southern Shorthand Business College in Atlanta and finished that.
Then what did he do?
He come back home. That was right before World War I when all that was going on.
My brother Paul and brother Lee both, my brother Lee, he joined the Navy. He put four years in the Navy, and brother Paul, he joined the army. That was before World War I. He was on the Mexican border right before World War I. They was having trouble on that Mexican … old Pancho Villa and that crowd. Mexico was having trouble, and the United States maintained an army on the Mexican border. Well, Paul was down there for a while. Then after that, they went overseas. My brother Lee, he stayed overseas twenty-two months, and brother Paul, he stayed over there eighteen months. They were older than me. My brother Lee was ten years older than me and Paul was eight years older than me.
Did they tell you about what they saw?
Oh yeah, they told me all about Argonne Forest. Brother Paul, he was a quarter master sargeant. He rode a motorcyle. He was carrying messages and stuff from back of the line back to the headquarters to and from. He rode a motorcycle.
Did they write you letters? Did you hear from them a lot while they…
They wrote my father and mother. I was a good big boy. I was twelve, or
thirteen, or fourteen years old when World War I come on.
Why did you decide to go to Warm Springs?
Papa had an interest there at Warm Springs. He had a ginnery outfit. He run a ginnery. The gin over there at Chambers County burned up, and my sister Callie, she got sick. Papa had another gin down there at Warm Springs. We moved from Chambers County down to Warm Springs in 1921. Roosevelt come down there at Warm Springs in 1925. You know the reason he come down there? He begin to take those baths. At Warm Springs, that was a big public pool. Water pumped right out the foot of that pine mountain there. The government test is ninety degrees temperature, and the spring flowed at twenty-two hundred gallons a minute at ninety degrees temperature. It had a great big public pool there. Roosevelt, he come down there. At first, my brother Lee and Al Person, and Papa met that southern train come on from Atlanta. Little old private train run from Atlanta to Columbus, Georgia. Roosevelt come down there on that train. He was in a wheelchair, couldn't walk. He had steel braces on both legs. He had to go in a wheelchair. He began to take those baths, and they done him so much good, till he turned around and went back and got his mother Sarah at Hyde Park, New York, and they come back down there and bought Warm Springs from a fellow, old man John Davis. He owned that public pool and old colonial hotel up there on the side of the mountain. Four hundred acres of land, they gave old man John Davis eighty thousand dollars for that property. He was Assistant Secretary of the Navy during Wilson's administration. He had this polio and got crippled. Anyway, that's the reason he come to Warm Springs.
After he bought the place, he come on back down there and formed a
Doing what?
Electrician. When I come out of the Navy in 1926, I went back down there. They were living there at Warm Springs. I helped my brother Lee, we wired the little White House there. He was an electrician and a plumber. We wired that little White House. Al Person, and Lee Strickland, and I done some help for them. I didn't know much about it, I just in the Navy. But my brother Lee was an electrician, and he put in all those fixtures and wiring, wiring that house. We's down there one time, I's digging a trench to run a underground line out, and Eleanor, Mrs. Roosevelt, Mr. Roosevelt was sitting there in the living room, sitting in there. My brother Lee was out there installing meter box on the back porch, and Eleanor come out there and asked him, says, "Lee, are we going get any lights in this house tonight?" Lee turned around and looked at her and sort of aggravated, I guess, says, "Mrs. Roosevelt, I got to go to Manchester. If I can find a part for this meter, you'll get light, but otherwise you won't." She sort of riled up there and said, "Well, looka here, I don't want no if's, and's, or but's, I want to know if we going get lights in this house tonight!" I never will forget that.
Did you think at the time that you were talking to the future President of the United States?
Didn't have any idea, didn't have any idea about it.
What did you think of them? What was your impression of them?
Roosevelt was the most brilliant man that I ever talked to or ever saw in
my whole life. He was a perfect man, he spoke perfect English, and it's
What was his name?
Judge Revel. Susie knows him; my wife knows him. She can verify every word I say. Emmett Williams and my father, that "Roosevelt for President" Club was started right there at Warm Springs. It sure was. My father was the third man that signed that petition, that "Roosevelt for President" Club. Sure was.
What did you all think of Eleanor?
Let me tell you a joke. Now this is fact. They had a little town hall up
there at Warm Springs—Warm Springs about five, or six, seven stores
there, and Southern Railroad—they had a little old town hall. She told
me a joke. That was after Roosevelt was President. He used to
What I was trying to tell you, Mrs. Roosevelt pulled a joke on herself.
Mrs. Roosevelt really did like the colored people. Out there in
Merriweather County, she had a lot of colored friends all around out
there in Merriweather County. During the time, she got up on the stage
and give a little talk, and she told a joke on herself. She telling
about there's a Nan Briggs that lived over at Chipley, Georgia, a
colored woman, her friend. She'd get in—she had an old car. I believe it
was some kind of old Hudson car—she'd drive all around out in the
country, visit among those colored people. She went out there one Sunday
afternoon to see Nan. She drove up there and
What did people around there think about Mrs. Roosevelt being so close to colored people? Was that okay, or did people…
They was raised in New York. Mr. and Mrs. Roosevelt was married in the
White House. He was Assistant Secretary of the Navy
When did you leave Georgia? How did you eventually get to Charlotte?
I joined the Navy. I was seventeen years old when we moved to Warm Springs. Papa was running a gin there in Warm Springs. I was there in the country. Wasn't no work, I couldn't find a job. I decided I'd just join the Navy and see the world, so I joined the Navy.
Then after you were out of the Navy…
I got paid off at Brooklyn Navy Yard December 26, 1926. I went back to Warm Springs. My people still in Warm Springs. Stayed around there two or three months, couldn't find no work, no job. I told mama, I said, "I believe I'll make the Navy a career." I was second class petty officer. I'd just make the Navy a career and ship over. I bought me a ticket from Warm Springs to Portsmouth, Virginia, and ship over in the Navy. I had a brother over here in Hamlet that I hadn't seen in four years, brother Paul. The only train coming this away to Portsmouth out of Atlanta, I begin to think. I'm going right through Hamlet on Seaboard Railroad, and I hadn't seen him in four years. I asked the conductor, I says, "Conductor, I got a brother in Hamlet, how about me stopping off here two or three days? Can I use my ticket?" He said, "Yeah." He just punched my ticket, give it back to me. Said, "Yeah, you go ahead and see your brother." In fact, he knew brother Paul. He was on the railroad at that time.
Paul was? What was he doing?
He was a brakeman and a conductor on the railroad. He was already working
for Seaboard. I stopped there two or three days. My brother
Right down here where?
Right down here on Tryon Street, that old passenger station on Tryon
Street, 1100 block of North Tryon Street, Seaboard Passenger Station. I
got off that train there. I knew who I was looking for, and I asked my
mama, "Where is Mr. Tom Campbell, general yard master?" Someone pointed
him out to me, said, "There he is." I went up there and introduced
myself to him and told him that Mr. C. H. Sauls had sent me
Did they just teach you by…
That's right. They talked to me, showed me and talked to me. I picked up a whole lot of it, just from observing them, following them around from time to time.
Were you getting paid then?
No ma'am. While I was learning, I had to learn the yard and learn the work. I stayed over here about ten days, then I went back to Hamlet and took my train rule examination. Then after I got my train rule examination, then I come back over here and marked up on the extra board. The first day I made after I marked up, then that's when I got paid.
What does that mean, "marked up?"
Marked up on the extra board.
What does that mean?
The extra board, there's about five or six men. It's a seniority
question. All the seniority men that stood for regular jobs, they
Did that mean that you worked real irregularly then for a while?
Just whenever they needed me, I'd fill a vacancy. They worked that extra board first in, first out. They had nine switch engines on the Charlotte yard at twenty-four hour periods at that time. Those crews, there were three men to the ground crew. They had a conductor and two switchmen, then they had an engineer and fireman. In 1927 when I come here, they had that sixty pound rail. That's that small tee, real small, light rail. The next year, 1928, they had those ten hundred's. That was four drivers, coal tender and water tender was slant and tight. It was just a little, bitty old steam machine was all they had. That next year, 1928, they took that sixty pound rail up, and put the ninety pound rail in, the fall of 1928. Then they sent them eleven hundred's over there. That was a larger, heavier seams in it. Had that butterfuly fire door, and reverse lever and the valve gear on the side and all that stuff. Pulled many more more cars than those little old steam engines. When I first come on, they had them ten hundred's, and they couldn't pull but twelve, fifteen cars.
What does a conductor do exactly?
He goes along and instructs his switchmen. He does the work and—switchman helpers, they call them—they help the conductor, watch him. Whenever he calls the move, they go ahead and make it. You walk around with a yard conductor. He classifies trains and sets those trains up in station order.
What does that mean?
In station order, from Charlotte, you go over here to Mount Olive. That is, they set the cars up classified in station order. Whenever they cut off from the main line, come over here on the freight house, they wouldn't have to hold but maybe one or two cars. Next to the engine, they'd always be in station order. They'd have a solid load and want to set off up there. They wouldn't have to get way back in the train. Always that car would be up there next to the engine. That was what they called station order, they classified in station order. That's how they done that.
They had six passenger trains in and out of Charlotte in a twenty-four hour period. They had pullman service from when I first come in 1927, 1928, 1929, all along in there, they had pullman service between here and Wilmington. Over at Charlotte, this is a Monroe subdivision. It's a subdivision from Monroe to
To where?
They connect with the CC&O Railroad up here at Boxtick yard. That's where all that coal come from West Virginia, all them coal mines. That CC&O Railroad brings it down up here to what they call Bostick yard. The Seaboard connected where we had a joint yard up there. We'd go up there and get that coal and bring it down here.
A lot of coal being handled. There wasn't no such thing as a diesel back
in them days. Wasn't nothing but hand-fired engines and later on they
got the stoker, and they got the butterfly fire door. But before that,
wasn't nothing but just the hand-fired engines. That was a bad job. I
tell you the truth, there wasn't a white man that could hardly stand up
to being a fireman on the railroad. They hired them engineers back
yonder 1900. They used to hire a man, pretty smart, and those colored
men about the only thing
A handful of what?
Dough, a handful of waste. It wasn't a rag, you know what waste is. His britches leg along there would be so hot, he'd grab some waste and rub the fire off his leg keep him from burning and scorching the cloth. Them overalls he's wearing, he'd rub that fire off his leg, standing there rake that fire.
That was them ten hundred's. They had the 1037, and the 1051, and the 1098. Then they had the 97 and the 96; they had two other engines, larger.
[END OF TAPE 1, SIDE B]
[START OF TAPE 2, SIDE A]
They had them little ten hundred's, them little four driver ten
hundred's; that's the hand-fired engine. They had the old chain door.
Them eleven hundred's come, they had that reverse lever, steam reverse,
and butterfly fire doors. They were much better engines and easier to
handle and easier to work with. Them little old engines, that was a job.
They had a big Johnson bar, engineer sit up there aside that engine and
whenever he wanted to reverse his engine, he had to get up and stand up
and get that Johnson bar with both hands and pull it
Was most of your work staying there in the yard, or did you ride the trains too?
To begin with, I switched down there on the yard, a switchman. I worked down there about seven, eight, or ten years, just switching. After about seven, eight, or ten years, I was promoted to conduct in Hamlet in 1940 and promoted to conductor. I hired out and started working as a switchman. Me and a fellow Stevenson, sent us to Hamlet to the superintendent's office. You had to go to the superintendent's to take your train rules back in them days. They were very particular about it.
What kinds of things did you learn there?
You got to learn all those operating rules.
What are some of them?
Over on this subdivision, we operated under manual block rules. You had
an operator from the station. We had the rule book, and we had a
standard watch. I've had this since I've been working. That's a 992,
twenty-one jewel Hamilton, adjusted to five positions. I've had that
watch since the day I started. My brother had this watch and he gave it
to me when I first started. I've had it fifty three years. That watch
right there, I know it's fifty-three years, and it might be a little
older than that. I don't know just when he got it. My brother Paul there
in Hamlet give it to me when I first started over here March 1, 1927.
What kind of watch is that?
It's a 992, twenty-one jewel Hamilton with a Montgomery dial, adjusted to five positions.
What does that mean, "adjusted to five positions?"
The heat, magnetism, they demagnetized your watch. It'll lose time, this heat and cold weather. They'll gain and lose time or that variation, but it's adjusted to take care of that, that position.
Did everybody have one of those watches?
All the men in the train service required. That's one thing you had to have. They wouldn't accept anything but a sixteen size, twenty-one jewel. Railroad company wouldn't accept anything less than a twenty-one jewel. You could either Elgin or Illinois. I had a Hamilton. That Hamilton is very common, but there's several standard watches that they would accept. But they wouldn't accept just any kind of watch, not in train service. You was in train service, you had a rule book and time card and all that stuff.
So everything had to be real precise and on time?
That's right, be precise, especially on that time element.
We had first class trains. We had six baggage trains in and out of
Charlotte in a twenty-four hour period. We had a twenty-one and two from
Hamlet to Royalton, that was one train. That was two right there. The
turn around job that goes in and out, go in, and turn around and come
back. We had twenty-one and two, then we had a thirteen and fourteen,
then we had a
Did you ever do that?
Yeah, sure did.
Can you describe what that trip was like, riding that train?
That's a passenger train, one of them old smoky trains. They were dusty, and a lot of smoke and everything. I'd ride the pass—I was working then—they gave you a trip pass. Now, I've got an Amtrak pass now. You got twenty years service, railroad service give you an annual pass. Me and my wife both is got an Amtrak pass now. My home road don't cost me anything. Course, if I ride on the southern or any foreign road, I have to pay half that.
What was your home road?
Seaboard Railroad. Now it's the Seaboard Coastline. They consolidated,
they merged. Seaboard Railroad merged with the Coastline Railroad. Now
it's all under one big operation from Jacksonville, Florida. The
railroad company is being run from Jacksonville, Florida. Our
headquarters is up here at Raleigh. The superintendent division, our
division point is in Raleigh. Most all that operation is from
Jacksonville, Florida. Old man Rice, he's chairman of the board, Osborn,
he's president, Hastings, general manager in charge of operations. They
got all those big hierarchy. That's down here in Jacksonville, Florida.
That's the general office down there. While the Seaboard was operating,
the general offices used to be in Portsmouth, Virginia. That C. H.
Sauls, the man that hired me, he was
Did you maintain contact with him after…
No, not after he got on up. What he used to do, he had a private car when he got to be general manager and assistant vice-president. Back those days, all those big officials had private cars. He'd come over here, and us fellows had been over here in the private car. Us fellows out here on the yard switching. He knew Cleve Richardson, Charlie Bass and the old men. He knew me too. He come out there, "Hey boy, come here." He called you up to him, shake hands, glad to see you and all that stuff.
Did he ever invite you aboard his private car?
I went aboard it one time to ask the cook for a sandwich one time. Mr. Sauls' car was parked on the pullman track. I was walking along there the cook sitting out there along the back. I said, "Hey, boy, I'm hungry. How about you fixing me a sandwich." He went in there and fixed me a nice ham sandwich you ever saw, give it to me. I walked on up through the yard eating my ham sandwich.
What did those private cars look like? Did you ever see the inside of one?
Yeah, they were real nice.
Can you describe it for me?
It was a business car. Mr. Sauls, he was general manager. He had a private secretary, men, you know. They had business car. They carried on all kinds of business. He come here to Charlotte and meet this traffic bureau here in Charlotte. Charlotte was one of the best feeder lines that Seaboard has. They got a lot of freight business out of Charlotte, way back them days.
When are you talking about, in the 30's?
That's right, 30's, and 40's, along in there.
What kind of freight would be going out?
They had local freights back them days. They had that LCL stuff, that's "less cargo lot." Had these check locals. Course, they had solid car too where there'd be a private load of freight going to a place. They'd always set that off. They had what they called a check local. The conductor had his way built, and he go along up here at Mount Holly and Lincolnton and Cherryville and all them places. If you had a piece of freight, they had one boxcar, a pile of gear, a keg of nails, a bale of cotton or whatever it was, he just set it off there. Go over there on the platform and set that stuff, just deliver it. Back in them days, they didn't have no trucks and these super highways. The railroad companies, they done practically all that freight business. That's before they had these automobiles and these super highways. Now the trucks, they've got it now. Back them days, same way with passenger trains. When I first come here, they had a traveller's aid. They had a colored woman that helped the women with the babies. All these people around, they come from Monroe and Hamlet and all these little towns, they come to Charlotte and shop, come up here and spend the day. Twenty-one get here about 11:00 in the morning, then there'd be 5:30 or 6:00 in the evening, he come going on back yonder. They'd come go to Charlotte. Back in them days, Duke Power had the streetcars on here. There was only 43,000 people here in Charlotte when I come through Charlotte. It was just a little old town. You could get ten blocks from the square up town. Either way, from the and side streets, you done run out of stores. You done run out of business, you'd be out yonder, residential section, virtually in the country. There wasn't only 43,000 people here. This was a small town.
What did this traveler's aid lady do, the lady who…
Martha Worley was her name. These ladies come in, they
Were you friendly with the streetcar conductor…
Yeah, I used to know some of them boys that worked on that. I knew Oscar Miller. I knew several of those boys, conductors on the streetcars. Trolley cars, they had the wire and everything.
In the switching yard, I take it that that job could be kind of tense in that everything did have to be very precise.
Yeah, it did, that's right. That switching job, you got to kind of have
to watch your step. Them wheels'll get you. They'll cut you, but it
ain't no respect of person. If you ever fall or make a miscue or step in
front of there, they'll cut your leg off. I'll tell you a fearful story
if you don't mind. After I was conductor after a long time, a fellow,
Dick Robinson, here in Charlotte. The Seaboard railroad give him a job
as operator. Anyway, me and Dick was up there at the top of the hill
switching one day, and a brake wheel broke off, one of them Ajax brake
wheels. The thing hurled out, right in the hub of the wheel. Dick had
both hands on that rim of that wheel, and when it hurled out, he wasn't
holding nothing else but the wheel. He fell right backwards
Seaboard had a surgeon?
Yeah, he was a Seaboard surgeon. Dr. Neal, they called him and he come
running. He knew me; I know Dr. Neal. He says, "Has he lost much blood?"
I said, "I don't know, Dr. Neal. His lower leg is spouting blood. I
really don't know." Then he turned to the nurse. I had my tourniquet on
and holding it all the time. They went and got a hospital tourniquet and
put it on his leg and stopped that blood. Then he begin to order blood
plasma. I told him his leg was cut off just below his knee, about six or
eight inches, about halfway I'd say. I says, "Dr. Neal, is there any
chance of you saving that leg below his knee?" I knew. He shook his
head. He said, "I don't believe so, Strick. I'm going to have to …" He
did. He cut his leg off above his knee. The boy lives right over yonder
right over there next to that mint museum is where he lives now, Dick
Robinson. He got over it. He was real strong, young
Do you remember what year that was?
Around in the 60's sometime, about 1955, 1960.
Do you remember way back when you first started working for the railroad. Were there more accidents then when you were first working for the railroad.
I think so. The railroad companies, they changed a lot of their rules. We
used to have to—had a stick, big old pick handle we called it—we had to
go up top them go on top and tie them cars down, put a hand brake on
them. In later years, they won't let a man go up on top of a car now.
They arranged that braking system, that hand brake on the end where you
won't have to go on top. The work's much safer than it used to be. It's
altogether different too. They've got a different method of switching
now than it used to have. We used to get a birch stick and had an old
oil lantern—didn't have no electric light, we call them "hay
burners"—you'd walk up there on that lead, that conductor be standing up
there. As soon as you show up, be in sight of him, he'd cut you off four
or five jobs. As you
When you first came to Charlotte in the late 20's and 30's when you were working, how many people would be out there in the yards? What times would you be working?
When I was on the extra board, different hours. They had that shift around the clock. They had that first shift job. They usually had two switch engines to a shift. The first shift job would be from 6:30, not later than 8:00 in the morning. The second shift job would be from 2:30, not later than 4:00 in the afternoon. Third shift jobs would be from 10:30, not later than 12:00 at night. They had three shifts. Sometimes it would be three switch engines to a shift. Sometime when the business was light, they'd maybe cut off a job. They had nine regular jobs when I first come here, nine regular switch engines.
How many people would it take?
Five men to a crew. They had a fireman—that's the coal burner—they had a fireman and an engineer. They had a conductor and two switchmen. One of those jobs down there, they had a conductor and three switchmen. One or two of those jobs there had a third man, that is on Charlotte yard. Some of them jobs in Hamlet, they'd ride them cars around the yard down there in Hamlet. They got ten, twelve, fifteen switchmen to a job on a This yard over here, we didn't have all that much to do.
When things were slackwhile you were at work, what jobs…
Whenever we get on the spot, we'd just get on the spot. Go to the
station, go around there to the spot house and drink coffee and the
train come in. When we get our work done, we'd be sure to get everything
done and carry out the yard master's instructions and his orders.
Whenever hewouldn't come out there with the switch list and tell you
something, you'd go around the spot house and sit down. Sometimes you'd
get to stretch out. You'd get a hour or so spot. The first thing you
know, you'd be out there, you'd be covered up in boxcars.
What would you all do to pass the time?
We'd tell jokes and drank coffee, do all that kind of stuff. Talk railroad. We'd have a rule meeting down there, train might come over here. Have a rule meeting and discuss the rules.
What were some of the rules?
There's operating rules. You had to know how to handle train orders.
The local trains would be what you call inferior trains?
Second class and inferior class trains. First class trains, most of them,
they operated—you got a time card—when they due at each station, they
got the time set out. Right therewhere you could tell, where at 22, due
by
But you out over here switching some plant, then you know what time he's due to leave. I copied many a 19 train order, a "run late" order. If he running late or just delayed, they put out time on him. They put out maybe twenty or thirty minutes. They'll send you a train crew and give you a 19 where #22 run twenty, maybe thirty minutes late. You've got your watch, you know what time he'd due to leave Charlotte, and you figure that thirty minutes in addition to that, and you keep on working. You got to be in the clear for ten minutes in order to comply with that 19 train order.
What were some of the stories that you all told while you were sitting around? Do you remember some of those?
We just talked about general things. Talk about good times, picture show
up town. Back them days, that Carolina theatre down on Pine Street—what
we used to call the ten cent movie—we'd go up there. Walk from the
station there on Tryon Street that Carolina theatre, go to a ten cent
movie. All that kind of stuff, different things we'd talk about.
Railroads, we'd sit there and drink coffee. Any kind of subject that
come
When you first went to work with the trains, were you allowed to ride the trains for a reduced rate?
When I started working, you got a pass. The first five years, the superintendent's office, the train master, they give you a trip pass. You want to go anywhere on company business, they give you a little old blue trip pass. You didn't have to pay nothing. After five years, then they give you a division, annual pass. It's good for a whole year. Then after ten years service, they gave you and your wife a system annual. Now you can ride any train on the whole entire system. They usually dated them, make them good for a year, and sometimes, they'd extend that one you had for another year. But they give you an annual pass. I got an Amtrak pass, my wife does. We can ride on our home rome. I can go over here at Hamlet on that Amtrak pass. That Silver Star that had that wreck up here at Raleigh the other day—I'm sorry, that's kind of a —they tell me that that doggoned James Burke was running that Silver Star. It was a school bus that distracted him. He run a—that's in the automatic block territory, signal territory—he'd run a caution sign. They claim on account of that school bus. He missed that school bus. He missed that school bus by five feet, almost hit it. There was children on that school bus too. He come around that curve, there was his block signal up there with that yellow caution signal. He was excited and didn't observe that caution signal. Whenever you hit that yellow, you supposed to break your train down and get it under control. Two miles, you got another head block and that might be double red.
[END OF TAPE 2, SIDE A]
[START OF TAPE 2, SIDE B]
Where did you live when you first came to Charlotte?
When I first come here, that was before I got married.
Were most of the people that lived there Seabord…
Yeah, all of them railroad men. Trains coming through here, 89, them trains coming into Charlotte. We had several jobs that come in here. Crews coming from Raleigh, they come in here. They boarded there with her. I stayed with Mrs. Keys the first six months out here. Working the extra board, hauling all hours of the day and night. Whenever they needed me, I was there to stay on the job. Somebody getting sick, it'd be 2:30, 3:00 in the morning, I'd have to go and finish the day. That was when you were on the extra board. After I got to where I stood for a regular job, then you're assigned to a regular job. Then you didn't have to report, only to your job. The assignment, the hours your job worked.
How long did you have to work the extra board?
About ten years. Nineteen-twenty-seven, 1928, 1929. Nineteen-twenty-nine is when they had that stock market crash in New York. They had that bank holiday and all that stuff. They got down to where they didn't have but two switch engines down here in a twenty-four hour period. Railroad business was real bad. The younger men, the men that didn't have the seniority, they got cut off first. They started from the bottom man, and worked on up.
Did you get cut off?
I got cut off May 9, 1931. I stayed cut off. I worked emergencies from
time to time. Sometimes they'd be a whole lot of them off at once.
They'd give me emergency day. I worked down at the round house. I was a
grease monkey down there. I watched the
Did you have another job at the same…
NO, back them days, you couldn't hardly get a job nowhere.
How much money were you making a week?
I wasn't making too much. That switching job paid you $6.62 for eight
hours for the switchman job. Now they're paying so fifty dollars a day
down there now for eight hours. When I first come in, the switching job
paid me $6.62. Sometimes I'd make one or two days, and sometimes I
wouldn't make no day at all. Jack Tush was round house foreman. He give
me a job down there filling up the water cooler, side rods on those
engines, lubricate her, get ice water and everthing, do all that stuff.
Clean the fires, help, put water in the water tank, get coal in the coal
tender.
Were you still living in the boarding house then?
After I come here, about the first year, I went on back home in Warm Springs. Me and my wife got married. I was already working on the railroad, and I went back down home. She and I fell in love the year before. I went on back down there and we married. Down there at Warm Springs where we got married.
Did you get married in a church?
Sure did. Methodist Church down there at Warm Springs. Got married at the parsonage at the Methodist Church.
How many people came to your wedding?
Her sister, she had a bunch of girlfriends who lived up a place called
Raleigh, about two miles above Warm Springs. There was
Did you go on a honeymoon?
Sure did. No, well, the next morning, we caught that Southern train and come to Charlotte. We went down on Tryon Street and stayed at Mrs. Keys' boarding house for three or four months. That was the latter part of 1927, 1928. Business was good. I was making pretty good time there. I'd get up maybe four, five, six hundred dollars there and carrying it around.
A month?
Yeah, a month. Sometimes you double, come back on your rest. You paid your $6.62 for eight hours. They had time and a half day. In 1916, World War I, was railroad coordinator World War I. They went from a twelve hour day to the eight hour day, 1916. They paid you time and a half after eight hours. When I first started, first two or three years, up until 1931, I got to work pretty good. I made fairly well. $6.62, you draw seventy five, eighty, or ninety dollars a half, a fifteen day period. You'd walk down on Tryon Street old man A&P Store for three or four dollars and buy enough groceries to last you for a week.
Were you able to cook there in the boarding house?
No, Mrs. Keys, she run the boarding house.
Did you eat there?
Yeah, we eat there, roomed and boarded there. We didn't stay there very
long after me and Susie come to Charlotte. We didn't stay there but
about two or three months. Then I went up town. Didn't have much
Where was the house?
Above Mrs. Keys' boarding house.
You mean it was in the same building?
No, it was a different building. Old man Charlie, they owned three or four houses back up there behind her boarding house. In that block, they own those houses.
Who owns it?
Old man Charlie Key, Mrs. Key, they run that Seaboard cafe and boarding house.
Were they connected with the railroad?
No, they just run that Seaboard cafe and the boarding house. That's where
I first started. We stayed around there about a year, then I moved from
her place up on Tenth Street. Rented some rooms up there, six or eight
months or a year I lived there. Then I moved down there on Tryon Street,
stayed down there on Tryon Street between the underpasses on Tryon
Street for about seven or eight years. Then I moved from Tryon Street to
Ninth Street, Ninth Street to Davidson Street, Davidson Street to Pegram
Street. I stayed on Pegram Street and raised my family, lived on Pegram
Street for thirty-five years. My oldest girl, Mary Sue, she'd fifty-one
years old; my next one is forty-nine, Carlos. I had one girl and two
sons. My youngest son is thirty six years old, my youngest baby. My two
oldest children are older than that. Mary Sue's fifty-one, Carlos is
forty-eight or forty-nine. We moved over here on Sheffield in 1974. Been
living over here about six years. We moved over Pegram Street, we
What did most of your neighbors over there do? What kind of work did they do?
Lynn Hopkins, he was captain on the fire department, and Mr. Hill, he was sargeant on the police department, various occupations. Some people worked in the cotton mill, lived long there on Pegram Street. We moved over there 1940 or 1941. There wasn't anybody over there but white people. There wasn't a colored person on that street nowhere. Now, I think there's probably one or two white families and all the rest of them is colored people lives over there now.
A lot of your neighbors at first were textile people?
Yeah, they were textile, worked the textile. Some on the fire department, some on the police department, some of them, cross the street, they were carpenters, bricklayers, just common ordinary working people lived all along there. I was a railroad man.
Your wife was a nurse's aid?
She worked at Wesley nursing home, that's right.
When you first moved here, did she work then?
No, she didn't. She stayed at home when I was working on the railroad. I
had a regular job, and my children was coming along. She stayed at home.
Later years, she went to work. She established her social security. She
worked about four years over at this Wesley nursing
How did you all make it through the Depression?
It was pretty hard, lady. I got cut off May 9, 1931. That was right
during the real, sure enough, heart of the Depression. I'm going tell
you another story from Roosevelt. This is from the horse's mouth too. My
brother Lee worked down there at Warm Springs. He worked for Roosevelt,
wired all them houses down there. I helped him wire that little White
House. When Roosevelt took office, that was right during the worst part
of that Depression. The very day that he was sworn in and took his oath
of office. He went in the blue room there and called his cabinet
together. See he got steel braces on both his leg and one crutch and a
walking stick. He improved so where he could drag his legs around. The
day he was sworn in, he called his cabinet together nad had a big table
in this room. They was all sitting around on that table, and he told Lee
out of his own mouth the absolute fact. He called his cabinet around and
says, "Gentleman, I want to tell you. This country is really in a real
state of emergency right now. We got good honest, sincere people
standing in these soup lines and bread lines in this country. There's
thousands and thousands of good honest people that's umemployed and
can't find work. We're right on the verge of a revolution." He got up
there on the side of the table right away and begin to beat on the top
of that table and looking at all his cabinet members. He turned to Mr.
Andrew Mellon was Secretary of the Treasury, he said, "Mr. Mellon, how
much indebtedness can this country stand?" Mr. Mellon told him that they
had eighty million dollars ready cash money that they could stand to
spend right now. He looked at all of them
During the Depression, did you have friends who would help you out, lend you money or anything like that?
Yes. No, I didn't have that. I must have been pretty lucky because Jack
Tillis, the round house foreman, he give me work. I watched the
crossing. I worked for $1.80 a day since I been in Charlotte. Just
anything, but like I say, you could take three or four or five dollars
and go up there and buy enough groceries to feed. I got a year behind in
rent. Joe I was renting two rooms upstairs down there on Tryon Street,
lived down there about seven years. I got over a year behind in rent. I
just went to him and told him, I said, "Joe, I'm cut off and I haven't
got no job and can't find no job. I got that furniture and we're trying
to get enough groceries to get by to live on someway or another." He
said, "Forget it, Ralph." He was engineer on that Southern, Joe was. He
said, "Just forget that out rent. We'll take care of that in a brighter
day." So he's good to me. I did got some help, but it was pretty tough
going. I guarantee you there's people standing in these soup lines, I'm
talking about good people too. Roosevelt, he knew what was going on.
That's what took place. He put these people to work. My brother's cut
Did you ever try to get a government job like that around here?
No, I picked up enough emergency days on the railroad. They'd call me
down there sometimes might be every two or three months, I'd get two,
three, or four days of
Your daughter had been born by that time, right?
Oh yes, Mary Sue and Carlos, my two oldest children. Mary Sue was born
November 11, 1928, and Carlos was born May 20, 1931. Right in the head
of that bad Depression is when I cut off, May 9. Carlos was born—my
oldest boy—born May 20, 1931. I stayed cut off three or four years
there. I worked a little bit at something all along, not too regular. I
got behind in that house rent, but I kept body and soul together till I
got back on the railroad. I'm glad I stayed down there. I come out
better by staying on the railroad that I would have done anything else.
I know and realize that. Railroad comapny was good to me. I left down
there with a real good record. I put a plaque down there in the railraod
station. You can go in, I got a bronze plaque down there. I'm
responsible, me and my crew. I got a safety car handling aware. The
general manager—the headquarters in Portsmouth—they issued that. It's a
big bronze plaque and it's hanging down there in the waiting room at the
Seaboard station now. I don't know if it's still down there or not. I
haven't been down there now. I haven't been down there. I retired in
1971 and I haven't been down there but three or four times. I don't know
When you were working, did you ever think you should get more money than you were paid?
Back yonder in World War II, wages going up, everybody's getting increase in wages. We had a strike in 1946. All railroad employees went out on strike. That was what we striking for were higher wages. We won, and we got our higher wages. I belonged to the Brotherhood of Railroad Trainmen for years and years. I got a cigar box full of trainmen receipts. I paid my dues, union dues.
When did you join the union?
Way back there. When I first started down there, 1927, 1928. Wasn't too long I went over to that 643 lodge in Monroe, I went over and joined the trainmen.
Did everybody have to join?
More or less. We didn't have a closed job, but they expected you to. You
felt a whole lot better if you belonged to the union. The people you
work with, everybody else belonged, so you didn't want to be a loner, so
you had to go along with that crowd. We didn't have no
How much were your dues?
Not much, sometimes three or four dollars a month. They never did get
more than three or four dollars a month.
At that time, there weren't very many other workers who were unionized. Did you ever catch any flack from people because you were a member of the union?
No, not on railroad. Those maintenance second foremen and all that, some
of that railroad labor was organized. Cross watchmen, maintenance I
don't think they had a union. Men in the train service, they had a
union. They got that union in 1916 is when the eight hour day come in.
In other words, the unions got eight hours and ice water they used to
talk about. You furnish your ice water on the job. That was a great
improvement. We got from twelve hours a day to eight hours, and we also
got ice water on the job. We had a ice cooler full of ice water. They
had to drink spigot water before that time. But in 1916 is whenever they
got that eight hour day and the ice water too. So the union, they were
climbing and getting more fringe benefits. Now, Lord have mercy, men
with twenty years service… They get thirty days vacation, and I don't
know what all they do get. Time and double time. Eight paid holidays a
year. If you don't work, you still get paid for them. You get a
guaranteed wage. I don't know how much they got. Vacation with pay,
hospitalization, that Traveler's Insurance Company, they pay your
hospital bill. I was in the hospital two or three ti es. I hurt my back
down there one time. I had an acute sprain and went in the hospital.
Stayed in traction in that hospital fourteen days. When I come out, I
owed them
Were you kept informed as a member of the union about what kinds of negotiations were…
Yes, that's right. We'd go to lodge meeting. We belonged to 794 in Hamlet later on. We'd go down at lodge meeting and the general chairman, local chairman, they'd tell us what was going on, what grievances they'd take. Local chairman, he'd go to the superintendent's office with a bunch of grievances and a bunch of tickets, infractions, railroad company violated the rules. Boys would claim time for it. He'd make an appointment with the superintendent's office, go up there and handle grievance. Sometimes they'd agree to pay them, sometimes they'd agree not to pay them. We kept informed. Local chairman, they kept us informed, told us what was going on.
What was some of the grievances, particularly in the 20's, 30's and early 40's?
Different things. Sometimes the crew clerk could call the wrong man. You
worked first in, first out on the extra board. Sometimes,
What were some other grievances?
That was one of that. Sometimes they'd get in an argument about who's going to catch what job, extra job. One time they had a work train down there. Our contract read that if a work train was in yard limits, if the total day's work was within yard, a yard crew would man it, but if it's a part-time road, part-time yard, the road would man that crew. Sometimes they'd run a work train in over here and work it all day in the yard. We'd find out about it, a conductor and two switchmen or a whole yard crew would claim time. Find out they worked that work train in the yard and didn't run him outside the yard, they'd claim time. They'd argue about that a whole lot. Sometimes they agreed to pay it, and sometimes they wouldn't. They just any number of infractions they claim time for.
What led up to the strike in 1946?
That was a wage agreement. That was a nation-wide strike too. Truman was President. That was the big four organizations. You got the engineers, the firemen, the BLE and the BLF, the Brotherhood of Railroad Trainmen, and the ORC, the Order of Railroad Conductors. They called them the big four, operating unions. They pulled a nation-wide strike and every railroad in this country was stopped.
What was it like here, what happened here?
We stayed on strike four days. President Truman, he got on the radio and asked the Brotherhood to call this strike. This country was still in war. We still in war 1946, we pulled that strike. He got on the radio, Truman—I never forget the night—he come on radio and said, "I appeal to each and every railroad worker in this country to return to work immediately. You're striking against your government. A government still at war." That's the very words Truman said, "You're striking against your government, a government still at war." The next morning, the Brotherhood, our heads—Al Whiteney was president of railroad trainmen—they sent wire messages, and they called the strike off. They negotiated. They created a fact-finding board. They granted us … we got a raise in pay. We got some raise and some change in some working conditions, so we benefitted by it, but it didn't last but four days. We had every railroad in the United States shut down at that time. Back in them days, you stop all the railroads, you do that now, and if somebody go hungry, it'll be a state of emergency right quick around here, if you try to stop every railroad in this country for just a few days. Those people around Washington, New York, and all these metropolitan areas, somebody'd go hungry.
END OF INTERVIEW