Crows, Bats, Bear (G. Adams), Bear (J. Cook), Snakes, Turtles, Florida
As you drive down the gravel roads just off the black-top, you enter a different world. You discover that people still live on and off the land. Now this terminology may sound strange, but when one lives "on the land" it is more than just having a house in the country. It's all about "being and belonging". You (or they) have strong ties to the area, to the community and a dependence on one-another. And living "off the land" is taking from the soil a harvest well in keeping with nature. This reminiscence is about Ben Minor and his some 90 years of living.
Roark Bradford in his "Old Man Adam and His Children" or Chandler's "Uncle Remus" stories try to put a romantic spin on the harsh life. While they tell a good story, they miss the real flavor of why it is so hard for a person living on a farm to give up living there and prefer the hardships to "city" livin.
Ben Minor was once a "nigger". Does that shock you? Ben would be the first to admit it. Let me explain as I introduce you to Ben and his life. Ben was also colored, but while he would admit that his skin was black, this terminology was just as foreign to him as was the classification, Afro-American. The latter term was offensive to Ben. You see Ben Minor was an American.
BEN'S SNAKE(S?)
Ben kept a large black snake in his house (or at least sometimes it was in his house). Often times it or perhaps just another snake that looked like Ben's would be in the corn crib or in the garden. Ben's snake was fully employed in ridding the place of mice and other small critters. It was claimed that the black snake would hold its own against other snakes and would aggressively defend its territory. Now snakes have few natural enemies. Probably man is the most predatory. But feral and domestic pigs seem to view a snake as "natures" own variety of a hot dog, properly presented and just right for eating. Other than that, the snake population is best controlled by the supply and demand for rodents, etc.
I believe that one reason that Ben kept this particular snake was that it was well known that the snake was in his house and no one was about to go in there unless Ben was home. Sort of a "watch-snake".
Ben told my daughter how he killed copper-head snakes. "When I'm eye-to-eye with mister snake, I just leave him alone. That way he thinks he's boss and will crawl away. When he starts, I grab him by the tail and spin him round and round till he's stretched straight-out. Then when I've got him just right, I give him a quick snap, an the ole snake's head just goes a flying."
MZ MARTHA AND THE NEWSPAPERS.
Ben's house was as open to the elements as it is possible to build a
structure and still call it habitable. Centered in his front room (call
it a living room if you like as it contained all the necessary
furnishings for day to day living, including a couple of cane-bottomed
chairs, a large trunk and an old bed with wire springs) was the tin
stove. This stove glowed cherry red when properly fed with discarded
fence post and gave off so much heat that sometimes when the outside
temperature would be well below freezing, the front door would be open
to let in fresh air and dissipate the heat. Now to start a fire in the
morning the best that can be had is newspaper. And since we subscribed
to a number of local papers, we always had an abundance which we shared
with Ben. Ben always seemed to be out of paper and would come
calling for an extra supply about once a week. Martha finally just had
to find out why Ben needed all this paper. So she asked. "mz Martha",
Ben replied, "I read them." Now here's an old colored man, 90 plus years
old and he apparently had taught himself to read. From that day on, Ben
got his newspapers/magazines, &c. on time.
"I GOES WITH THE PLACE"
When we bought the farm in West Tennessee from Rufus and Alma G., Rufus
said that Ben Minor lived in the old house and he would like for him to
stay there. So, after we had completed the deal, I went by to see Ben.
He came out on his porch and I introduced myself and told him I had bought
the farm. He replied, "I goes with the place." I said, "Ben, now I have
to charge you rent. That way you know the house is yours, as long as you
want to stay and as long as you pay the rent. What do you think is a fair
rent?" He said, "My government check isn't very much and I've got
high-blood so my Doctor's expenses are high, but I could pay $10 a
month."
"OK, my Daughter will come by at month's end, you pay her.
And, make sure she gives you a receipt."
That was the end of it, Ben came with the place.
THE HAM
One day I saw the sheriff's car down at Bens. That afternoon I walked
down to be sure everything was alright. Ben as usual was sitting on his
porch enjoying the day, but he was more talkative than usual. Seems that
that morning he had walked over to the store (down the gravel road about a
mile and back) to get some groceries. When he got home, he discovered
that someone had stolen the ham that he had hanging in the barn.
He knew just who that someone was and so had walked into Brownsville,
about
8 miles away to the Sheriff's office and reported that "that nigger
Evans" had taken his ham. So one of the deputies gave Ben
a ride back home to check it out. Ben was not about to let this matter
go. The deputy went to the house where the offender was staying, told him
to either give back the ham, pay for it or buy Ben a fresh one right
then or there or go to jail. After some strong denials that he knew
anything about Ben's ham, the deputy was given a ham which he took
over to Ben who was more than a little troubled. Seems the ham that was
stolen weighed no more than 15 pounds and the ham the deputy brought back
weighed at least 30. Ben couldn't explain how his ham had doubled in size
in just a couple of hours, but it had and so he was satisfied that all was
right.
NIGGER BEN
Now the term nigger was special and only used by Ben to describe someone
that was beyond redemption and just a no-account. Ben told me that back
during the war when he worked in the sawmill he had been hurt and
couldn't work "no more". The war he was talking about was of course the
second world war which means he had been hurt sometimes during the 40s and
here it was some 40 plus years latter. Before he was hurt, Ben had been
quite the ladies man (a fact acknowledged by some of the other neighbors)
and he had ranged over three counties. Getting hurt changed Ben
(according to Ben), and he at least for a time, got religion (this didn't
mean that he went to church, I think the only time Ben was in Church was
on the day he was buried.) At any rate, from that time forward, Ben was
no longer a "nigger". But it didn't change his appreciation of the fairer
sex, which you will see from the following events.
One day, I got a call from the social worker who looked in on Ben from time to time. One of the neighbors had called because Ben was sick. An ambulance was called and after at trip to the local hospital, they decided he needed more care and transported him to Jackson Tennessee for treatment. Ann said she thought Ben was going to die.
Well after a week in the Jackson hospital, Ben announced he was going home. No amount of persuasion could convince him otherwise. Seems he didn't like the food, no privacy and he was concerned about his dog. Nothing to do but let him go home to die, so they loaded him back into the ambulance and delivered him to his house. Ann thinking it was in Ben's best interest arranged for a young widow woman who had a small child to stay with Ben. She was right. Within a week, Ben was sitting on the front porch with the young lady and child, just a grinning.
THE ROAD DEPARTMENT
Ben didn't have many quarrels with others. They mostly recognized that
they would lose. However, it seems he had a running feud with the local
road department. It all started when he discovered them picking
"poke-salat" greens from the area by one of the ponds in the early spring.
Ben considered that patch as his own personal property and resented that
they would steal them. He came up to the house and told mz Martha and she
put an end to their activities.
Well this was just the beginning. The county decided to raise the gravel road bed and installed a culvert to carry away the water, what they didn't reckon with was that in a big rain the culvert wouldn't handle the water and it would back up into the area along side. Sure enough, it rained, it flooded and worst of all, the water found its way into Ben's well. Now the well was what we call a "board well". That doesn't mean that it was bored, instead it was lined with cypress boards carefully nailed together to form a neat square shape and the boards were lowered into the freshly dug well. Since the boards stayed wet, once in place the well lining was serviceable for years (this well was probably a hundred years old). Now Ben was mad. He went straight to the top of the management pyramid (spoke to ms Martha). Within the day, the county had a truck on site, they pumped out Ben's well and things were back to normal. From this day forward, the road department always made a wide path around Ben Minor and his place.
ABOUT Joe Wortham