“What a woman! I love that woman.”
After the church service, Liz apologized to the preacher for using bad language. The black couple sat on a bench under an open church window and sang along with the congregation. Songs they had heard from their past, coming from the white peoples’ church on the plantation, they had come from.
After the church service the black couple was married by the preacher man, under a large oak tree. Some of the white people from the church stayed for the joining of the couple. Later at home a few people from the neighboring farms came. Mr. O’Reilly had passed the word. He brought all his blacks for the celebration. Fried chicken and watermelons were had all round. A few black people brought their music instruments. Dancing broke out. It was a merry bunch that Sunday afternoon on the Duncan farm.
The next few months were spent rebuilding the cabin. New roof shingles were cut and nailed in place. A new door was built. New glass windows were installed and last the fire place was rebuilt. Liz and Maude made a new feather bed for the cabin. The black couple moved in.
The rest of the summer, the living was easy, the catfish were biting in the creek, the fruit orchard outdid itself, the grass grew tall, the cows gave lots of milk and cream. Butter was churned. The chickens laid so much, Liz and Maude took eggs and sold them in the little village on the east road.
Liz had her companion and helper. Sam had good help and the summer turned to fall. The crops came in and were harvested. The fall turned to winter. The babies came due. Maude’s came first, then Liz had hers. Both women had boys, nice healthy boys. Maude and Joe named theirs Little Joe. Liz and Sam followed with Little Sam. It was joy to the world that winter on the Duncan farm.
Bill O’Reilly had set up a church meeting place on his farm for his blacks and blacks on the adjoining farms. He also found a black fire preaching, preacher for the flock. He had talked most of the farms into letting their blacks attend and the people came. There was a lot of singing. Hal-la-lu-ya’s and a-mens could be heard coming from those meetings. Even the little ones were getting some schooling. Liz had made a difference in the community of the blacks.
Time passed, one year, two years. In the third year both Liz and Maude gave birth to boys again. The blacks named theirs Josh. Liz and Sam named theirs Jackson and called him Jack.
The times had been too good. It just couldn’t last. Sam had borrowed money to keep the farm going. It was getting close to pay back time. A drought had hit and a depression was covering the whole country in the late 1830’s. Sam had to tighten things up. Three more years and he had to go for money to pay on his last loan. It kept building up. He showed a happy face but inside he was hurting really badly. He knew it would come to a head soon and it did.
He drove over to see Bill O’Reilly to ask advice. A mammy ushered Sam into Bill’s bedroom. She said he was feeling poorly. O’Reilly sat up and greeted Sam with a smile. “Not feeling so good,” explained Bill. “Probably don’t look so good, been down for a couple weeks now.”
“What seems to be the trouble?”
“Have a lot of chest pain, and can’t seem to get my breath. I’ll get over it soon. Had it before and it always went away.”
“That’s too bad.” Sam was concerned. “Hope you’re up and better soon.”
“What-ja want-a to see me about?” asked Bill.
“My troubles aren’t yours, I don’t want to bother you.”
“Be my guest, what’s friends for?”
“I’m in trouble with my loan, can’t seem to get enough money together to pay it back.”
“Don’t feel bad Sam, I’m in the same boat, borrowed way more than I should have, can’t get my money together either.”
“You?” Sam said surprised. “I thought you were all set for life.”
“Not hardly, this depression and prices set us all back. I’m in bad shape. I have the whole dang place mortgaged to the hilt, all but my blacks. If the worst comes I’ll free the blacks and to hell with the rest of the world. Sam, some times you have to cut and run.”
“I hate to bother you more,” Sam told him. “I just have my land mortgaged. The tools and stock are free. I’ll do the same with my blacks. This old farming is a hell of a life. Get well Bill. I’ll send Liz over to cheer you up.”
With that Bill smiled. Sam bid him goodbye gave a hug to Mammy on the way out and drove home.
He told Liz about Bill. “He shore don’t look too good. His lips are purple.”
“I’ll go over in the morning and cheer him up, if it’s okay with you?” Liz said.
“You bet, he’d like seeing you. I think he’s been in love with you since the day he met you,” Sam said proudly.
“Sam, I got a letter from my sister, Jane. She married Walter Johnson. Do you remember him ? He did the books for my papa at the docks.”
“I seem to recollect, he was a tall lanky fellow? He never had much to say, at least not to me. He was always well dressed.” Sam was scratching his head as he spoke.
“That’s him. Seems he’s got a job with the government running a Indian reservation over in the nations. He needs help. Jane wants to know if we can come help them run their agency. She says they need help bad. He bit off a lot more than he can chew. We could go over and help if things don’t work out here.” Liz was trying to make Sam feel better. Sam told her he would go in the morning and ask the banker if he would extend his loan.
Morning came, with it bad news. Bill had passed in the night. All who knew this fine man were heart sick. Liz broke down and cried all that day.
The service was short and very sad. All who were there had nothing but good words to say about Bill, his blacks were heart broken, many cried and wailed all during the service.
Bill was a man of his word. He had papers made, that gave freedom to all his blacks. There would no mistake, they were all set free. Most packed their belongings and started walking as a group, north the next day.
Some of Bill’s blacks wanted to stay. The foreman Jon Henry who was Bill’s oldest black, gave a talk to the remaining people saying, “You have to move on, some whites won’t honor Master O’Reilly’s paper. Y-all must go while the getting’s good.” All the rest of the blacks packed and headed north walking to the free states.
Sam rose early. Hardly had anything to eat for breakfast. He rode one of the mules to town to see the banker.
The meeting turned sour almost immediately. Sam could feel the hostility in the room, as soon as he entered. He had known and heard talk that some people had desires on his place. The banker turned on him in a belligerent voice saying, “Duncan, your loan is past due. You got no more time. Get out now or I’ll send the law to put you out.”
The man’s manners and harsh words had Sam boiling mad. If it wasn’t for Liz, he would give this son of a gun a bad beating but he just shook his head in disgust. As he started to leave, he turned back and said to the banker, “We’ll leave, I only have the land mortgaged, not our tools or stock. We’ll be out in a few days. You keep away until we’re gone or so help me I’ll be back and it won’t be very damn pleasant for you, you low down money grubber.”
He turned on his heels and stormed out. On the way home he cussed the banker and said to himself how people with money think they own the whole damn world, he never said cuss words where Liz would hear him.
At home he came in, dropped into his rocking chair, put his face in his hands and said, “Liz I’ve made a bad mess of things. They won’t give us more time. We have to get out. I’m sorry Liz, I know how you loved this place.”
She could see he was hurting. “It’s not so bad.” She was very sympathetic. “It’s not the end of the world, lots of folks have had to let their places go. I hear folks are going west to homestead all the time.”