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Uncle Willie would fill the bucket with water and then drop it from about six feet above the ice to break it up. It never froze too hard for this.
Once a week he would build a fire under the wash tubs and fill the tubs with water. Aunt Minnie would do the wash but Uncle Willie would lift the clothes from the boiling water with an old broom handle. They were too heavy for Aunt Minnie. Uncle Willie had many other duties as well. He slopped the hogs, fed the chickens, gathered the eggs, took care of the horse and buggy, and helped Aunt Minnie in any way he could.
Many evenings, especially in the winter when it got dark so early, he would lay on his cot and tell me stories about when he was younger. Since many people of color did not read or write, everything about their heritage was passed from one generation to another by word of mouth. Some of the stories were tragic and yet there was something of a vision and hope that always came through.
Uncle Willie was the kindest, most easy going man I ever knew. He never said how he came to work for Mr. G. but it was evident he had been with him for a long time. Uncle Willie told me his parents were slaves.
One of my favorite times was when we would all gather in the wagon and go the store on Saturday afternoon. A small community had grown up around the general store. It had most everything anyone could ever need. There was even a small post office in one comer of the store. In addition to the general store there was a livery stable and a home where a doctor had his office. Uncle Willie said we were very fortunate to have a doctor because there were many communities like ours that didn?t.
There were no children, other than Rosa, who lived near us, however when we went to the store the place was filled with children, both black and white. We played together, oblivious to the differences we would face later in life.
Many times there would be music on the porch by a strange gathering of banjos and fiddles.
Some of the black men and children would dance a jig in front of the store. How they learned to play like they did amazed me. Black men always seemed so happy. I heard one of them tell Mr. G. if he could be black for one Saturday night he would never want to be white again.
The kids were treated to a snack of some kind and usually it was the same thing. They would take a RC cola, or a Nehi orange, take one swig and then fill it with salted peanuts. Once I tried it I knew nothing could ever be as good. We also were allowed to take a few crackers right out of the cracker barrel. It was always kept near the store owners though to make sure we didn?t get carried away.
One thing I will never forget about the old store was the smell of kerosene. Even though it was pumped on the front porch the smell filled the entire store. It was here I saw my first automobile. It belonged to Dr. Smith.
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