Strange Family Folklore
Strange Family Folklore
Mom: Margie, Land & Skin Tone
In this episode, I interview my mother about her older sister, Marjorie, who they called “Margie.”
Teresa Roberson
My great grandfather, Jesse Strange, was born a slave and freed in his 20s. His 12 children were born free, and referred to as "The First Freeborn Generation." In this podcast series, I interview Jesse Strange's descendants in order to document our stories. This is Strange Family Folklore.
In this episode, I interview my mother about her older sister, Marjorie, who they called “Margie.” At first, Mom was hesitant to talk about her.
Velma Roberson
That's okay.
Teresa Roberson
Well, Mom, you mentioned it, so go ahead and tell the story about you and Marjorie having a rocking chair.
Velma Roberson
We had a rocking chair alike, so we would do everything together. And we loved cheese. Mother would always give us cheese. So, then after Marjorie died, I would sit and rock in her rocking chair. Mother'd give me cheese. And I say, "Oh, I want to save some for Margie." So, Mother would take what I want to give Margie. I guess she ate it or somebody ate it. But she wouldn't tell me Margie not coming back because I didn't understand death. Although I saw her in the casket, but I thought she was just in a nice bed, you know, and I wanted to get in there with her. So, Mother would always ship me out somewhere. So, I wouldn't be, you know, around her asking about Marjorie, when she coming back and all this.
Teresa Roberson
So, you were about three when she died?
Velma Roberson
Yes. But see, I can remember all that stuff. You know, it's only little stuff that you can remember when you're a little kid. You probably remember too. Just bits and pieces.
Teresa Roberson
Yes.
Velma Roberson
And I remember the day that she got burned. I remember before then when Grandma, Daddy's Mother, came down and they all, these ladies out in the yard sitting in, you know, coming down because they got this new house. So, Grandma, Daddy's Mother, was holding Margie. And I wanted her to hold me 'cause I'm the baby and so I just went around her chair, just kept walking around and around. Grandma never would say, "Come here, baby. Let me hold you." But she kept holding Margie. So, Mother say Margie was her favorite. So that's why she came back to get her. You know, in olden days, they always think there was a reason for everything. So, Mother felt like Grandma came back to get Margie cause she was so fond of her. But the truth was this guy that helped Daddy in tobacco, well helped him on the farm, he was crazy about all of us. And he knew we liked the fireplace. So, he said, I'm gonna build a fireplace for my children. He'd call us his babies. So, he ended up drinking himself to death. Because he knew he was it was his fault that Margie caught on fire. Because nobody in the house with me, Margie and Herbert. So, Herbert was the oldest. And he told Margie to run outside. So, the wind just covered her with the fire. And when Mother came home and Mother's about to have a hissy, she just hollered and crying. Margie say, "Don't cry, Mother." Say, "I'm fine." She was burned so bad, she didn't even have any feelings. And they took her to the hospital and she died in the hospital after a few days. But I remembered her hair, you know, had burned. She had burned so bad until she just didn't have any feelings. And Mother saw her and she cried. And she said, "I'm gonna be okay." So that's why every time you say something about her, Mother would just have a fit she would just have to leave and cry.
Teresa Roberson
Was she's still outside when Mama Bea came back?
“Mama Bea” was what we grandchildren called my mother’s Mother.
Velma Roberson
I think we were, to my knowledge, I think we were.
Teresa Roberson
Had Herbert gone to get them? Were they working in the field?
Velma Roberson
You know, I really don't know where they were, but I don't know if Herbert went to get, no, I think the three of us were outside. So, I you know, just seemed like everything happened real fast.
Teresa Roberson
Oh, Mama Bea and Papa were outside nearby?
Velma Roberson
They were working in the field, but I don't know how long it took them or who went and told them or what. All I remember we were outside after Herbert told us to run outside.
Teresa Roberson
And now people know to stop drop and roll, but he didn't know that.
Velma Roberson
Right, well see kids didn't know all that stuff back in the day. All you thought about is getting out the house. He didn't think about getting a blanket or something and wrapping her up.
Teresa Roberson
Well, Herbert was probably about eight himself, right?
Velma Roberson
Okay, if I was three, Margie five, yeah Herbert about seven or eight. So, really see we weren't supposed to have fire in the fireplace because Mother and Daddy never wanted one there when nobody there but us. But this man knew that we loved the fireplace. We loved to stand in, you know in the hearth, stand in front of it. We were supposed to kept warm by the kitchen stove.
My father, Karl Wayne Roberson, who’s sitting beside Mom, chimes in.
Karl Roberson
He wasn't in his right mind because he was drunk.
Velma Roberson
Well, he probably had a hangover 'cause I'm thinking it was, might have been a Monday morning.
Teresa Roberson
Mom, if he's an alcoholic, they start off in the mornings.
Velma Roberson
Well, no, he wasn't drunk then. But I say he probably had a hangover from the night before. No, I think he was a good worker. I don't think he got drunk until weekends.
Karl Roberson
Did he have any education, Velma?
Velma Roberson
Wayne talking about did he have any education. Nobody had education back in the day. You went to elementary school and that was it. Uncle Jug didn't even go to elementary school.
My Great Uncle Jug, Mama Bea’s brother, was actually named “James.” Something I didn’t know until I was well into adulthood, given our family’s love for nicknames.
He took his lunch out from the others and stay somewhere. 'Til they came back.
Karl Roberson
Under the oak tree.
Velma Roberson
And when they came back, he come on walked home with them like he been to school all day. And see the teachers, they not gonna tell your parents. Back in the day they didn't even, I'm wondering if they did roll call. But they didn't tell your parents anything. But see Uncle Jug just had a mind to do things, but he had no education. I don't think he had a first-grade education.
Teresa Roberson
So, his children would read contracts and stuff to him?
Velma Roberson
Oh, he got other people to read stuff to him 'cause he and his wife separated before the kids even finished elementary school. He and his wife separated. But Uncle Jug was a very nice guy, I tell you. He saw to it that his sisters all were, you know, being treated fairly. That they all had what they needed. Go visit them just about every day like he was their keeper.
Teresa Roberson
Mom, tell me about how we got land from the former enslaver.
Velma Roberson
Okay, my Daddy's Father, Jesse, his master gave him land. Did you ever go down to where Jean and them used to live off 58? I know a truckload of them went down there. And visit their land. Did you ever go?
Teresa Roberson
No, you mean during the hay rides?
Velma Roberson
They just took a trip down there sometime during the family reunion. I didn't go. But it's where Jean and them used to live. The master gave Grandpa that land. Then Grandpa bought that land up in Cascade where we were.
Teresa Roberson
You just don't hear of enslavers giving their former slaves land. I mean, sometimes you hear that they give them a little money, but wasn't this unusual?
Velma Roberson
I don't know. All I know is he gave Grandpa that land down there and Grandpa was very courageous himself. So, after he got that land, he came up to Cascade and bought that house that Uncle Daniel lived in. Bought all that land and see that land was, you know what the wooden school is up there?
The “wooden school” Mom’s describing was actually called “Cascade Elementary School.”
You know the wooden school told you I went to elementary school?
Teresa Roberson
I know you went to elementary school, but I didn't know what it was called.
Velma Roberson
Okay, that wooden school is where I went to elementary school. Okay. The land across from there it's where my Grandfather's land started. From there, all the way down to where, what's his name? Lawrence. You know my cousin, Lawrence Strange and Sonny Boy?
Teresa Roberson
Yes.
Velma Roberson
You know where their houses are down. Sonny Boy got a mobile home. Lawrence got a house. Okay, it went all the way down there. That's what Grandpa bought up in Cascade. So, then he moved up to Cascade and that house where Uncle Daniel lived.
Teresa Roberson
Now Mom, isn't “Sonny Boy,” Ted?
Velma Roberson
Yes. We were always used to calling him "Sonny Boy." So, Grandpa bought all that land. Then they divided it among the children. But see, Uncle Jessie had that down the first house, but then when they divided all the siblings got their share.
Teresa Roberson
Mom, do you know the former enslaver’s last name? And do you think that he gave your Grandfather land because he was his son?
Velma Roberson
I don't think he was his son. I'm thinking he was just a good worker. And when they set the slaves free, he just gave him the land down there off 58.
Teresa Roberson
That's just an unusual story, especially if we were not related to him.
Velma Roberson
That's what I heard.
Teresa Roberson
Was your Grandfather light-skinned?
Velma Roberson
No, you know Jean's Daddy, Jessie, right?
Barbara Jean and my mother are first cousins since their fathers were brothers.
Teresa Roberson
I can't picture him.
Velma Roberson
Well, you know Jean's son, Brian.
Teresa Roberson
Yes.
Velma Roberson
Well, Brian’s same complexion Uncle Jessie was just about like Alec.
Alec, one of my nephews, is half Nigerian.
Teresa Roberson
Skin color is craziness because you have, even within Jean's family, they have a range of colors.
Velma Roberson
I know.
Teresa Roberson
Within their siblings. Yeah, from the very light that don't even look black to unmistakably black.
Velma Roberson
And see just like my brothers, we are three different shades. Olander and Marjorie the same shade. Herbert and I about the same. Clarence and Floyd about the same.
Teresa Roberson
Right. You just went from darkest to lightest.
Velma Roberson
Right. Yeah, we had three different shades in our family. Dad's Mother was light. And the Daddy was like Uncle Jessie, but you don't remember Uncle Jessie, do you?
Teresa Roberson
I do. The one who always dyed his hair.
Velma Roberson
Oh no, that's Uncle Jug.
Teresa Roberson
Oh, you know what? He's a memorable one. He really is. Every time you say “Uncle Jessie,” I picture Uncle Jug.
Velma Roberson
Uncle Jud had that beautiful hair, girl.
Teresa Roberson
All hair's beautiful, Mom. See, we're going to disagree now.
Velma Roberson
It was Uncle Jessie, Aunt Nanny, and Aunt Berta had nice wavy hair. Mother's hair was like a natural Jheri curl, but she didn't like it that way, so she always pressed hers.
Pressing hair was one of the first methods black people used to straighten the naturally thick, coarse texture of their hair. This was accomplished by using a hot comb also called a “pressing comb,” which was a heated metal comb that had a wooden handle.
Teresa Roberson
I'm glad the hot comb days are over.
Velma Roberson
Hey, how about that?
Transcribed by https://otter.ai