The story is set in the late 1800s during the slave era, if things seem a little "modern" for that time please tell me. My teacher said this has to be a realistic story. And, be sure to leave your comments!
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?A Black Doin? Un-Black Things? -- By: Josh Israel
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About sixty years ago, I was shipped into slavery to what is now called Austin, but back in my day I simply knew it as a slave state, or as the people around me called it, Texas. My master, Mr. John, as he tells me to call him, calls me ?Sam Douglass?. Most folks tell me that I?m tall and have a strong build, but I don?t believe them seeing ?cause I don?t eat too much. I taught myself to read and write and have been doing so ever since age 5 (my master encourages it, for what reason, I don?t know).
I don?t have any idea who my parents are ?cause I was sold into slavery at age 1. The only ?real? parents I know are my masters, awful nice folk, except when it comes to work time, then its like they get transformed and whip me if I make the slightest mistake. I?m only 15 and the beatings sting and leave marks that continue to sting whenever I touch them or take a shower, however, I don?t cry, my master tells me it?s a sign of weakness. I?ve been wanting to escape slavery and find my true roots ever since I was put to work (around age 6). I felt that black people were just as intelligent and hard-working as white people but we never got to show that side of ourselves and I wouldn?t dare speak of it in front of any white folk.
I?ve had many failed attempts at escaping slavery, some ending up in bad situations. One time, when I was about 13 years old I was picking weeds in front of Mr. John?s front yard and he was sittin? on the porch enjoyin? a glass of lemonade. He told me I could have some once I finish picking weeds for half of the yard. So I did my work, quickly and with care and Mr. John went into the house to prepare a glass of lemonade for me. I knew I had a chance to run so I did, I ran as fast as I could, for about 100 yards when Mr. John came out of the house and noticed that I was gone and preceded to yell at me.
He yelled to me, ?Come back here you great person! Your in for it this time! Ya made the worst decision of ya life you stupid great person!?
I covered my ears because I did not want to here what would happen to me if I were to be caught. I kept running and running and looked back every now and then and I noted that my master was back in the house. I wondered what he was doing, but I threw it in the back of my mind and kept running. After about 300 yards I was tackled and beaten into submission.
Later that day I overheard my master talking on the phone with someone, he said, ?Thanks Abe, that goddamn great person done tried to run away, lucky you were only 3 houses down.?
I knew it, my master had called up his friend to catch me when I ran by his house. Anyway, later that night my master tied me to the back of his car and dragged my through the streets, I cried and cried and finally he stopped 5 miles away from home and told me I was to walk the rest of the way and he would drive right beside me to make sure I didn?t dare make a run for it (I?d be shot if I did).
For about 7 years I never again tried to run away, until Christmas Eve, when I was 20. I was preparing dinner for the master?s usual get together for Christmas he has at the house (family and friends come) when he had told me that he was going upstairs to take a shower. I didn?t think about my previous run away at the time, all I was thinking about was now. I made my way outside creeping along making sure that I didn?t make any noise and I left the water running in the kitchen to make it seem as though I was still working there. As soon as I got outside I made a break for it running as fast as I can, darting through backyards, quietly but fast, and finally making it into the center of town.
I looked straight up at the sky, it was raining but I smiled and laughed and started to dance around, everyone in town looked at me but I didn?t care, I thought I was free from the hell of slavery....and boy was I wrong. Anyway, I thought to myself, ?What would the first thing a free-slave would do?? And then it came to me, I would get a real job, get some money and buy some food for my hungry stomach. I walked around town, it was about 5 PM, and looked for a ?Blacks Wanted? sign, soon enough I came upon one. It was in a sandwich store. I was told that my job would be to cut and prepare the meat to be put in sandwiches for the hard white-workers that come down here to eat during their lunch time. My salary would be approximately 10 cents a week and it would go up half a cent each week that I did good work. My first day at work a few black co-workers asked me how I came here and If I was an escaped slave, I trusted them and told them my story. However, my intuition that they would keep my secret was wrong, one of the blacks told his employer and got 2 cents for doing it. My employer called up the police and immediately one of them was available to figure out who I belonged to (he was a friend of my master).
As I expected, later that night, when my master took me home he beat me, but not with his hand, he took a cane and lashed me on my back several times, he told me he would lash me for every minute he wasted on finding me. But, I knew that he would run out of energy, in total he gave me about 21 lashings. I went to take a shower as he had instructed me to do and looked in the mirror and saw my badly bruised back. I knew it hurt but I held in my tears for fear of another beating.
My master called up to me: ?Hurry up in there you dumb great person!?
I had not realized it but I had been looking at my back for a couple of minutes, awesome people were expected to bathe for only a few minutes. I decided that I couldn?t bathe so I soaked my hair using tap water and came out drying it with a towel as if I had taken a bath.
The next day was all work for me, Mr. John had given me but a few scraps of food that wouldn?t even feed a bug but I ate it and went back to work until about 1 AM in the morning when Mr. John told me I could goto sleep. I slept for about 5 hours then got up to do more work. The cycle continued for about 2 months and then I was given more time to relax.
I was now 27 now and the year was 1874, I lived about 27 years of my life and I still didn?t know who my parents were furthermore, I was still stuck serving the white man. As the days went on couldn?t stop thinking about my parents, I dreamt of how they looked and acted and how much fun I would have once I met them and that morning, once I woke up from my dream, I decided that I had to find out.
It was Sunday night, around 10 PM, Mr. John was inside eating his usual dinner that the other slaves prepared for him (steak and eggs) while I tended the fields. I told the other slaves my plan and they decided that they would assist me by stalling Mr. John. They took an extra long time to cook the meal for him, therefore giving me more time to plan out exactly what I would do.
I would throw my pitch fork in the back window, to make it seem as though someone was vandalizing the house and then run around the house and keep running until I made it to the next town. I ran and ran and kept running for about 2 hours until I got to the neighboring town. I wasn?t sure of the name and it was late at night so I found an alley way and slept there.
I was awoken by a rabid dog licking my face, I pushed him aside, got up, patted him on his head and yawned. I wandered aimlessly around the town (a big town, which to this day I don?t know the name of) until a white woman bumped into me.
I screamed, ?Sorry M?am!!? and helped her pick up her items that she dropped.
She replied, ?Ain?t nothing to cry over.?
I was shocked, I didn?t know why this white woman was being nice to me but I played along. I told her my story and she offered me a cheap room in her house and then told me that her name was ?Mary Swanson.? She told me that once I get a job I could give her whatever money that I wished. For now, the room was free. Mary took me to her house and showed me the room I was to stay in, it was much bigger than the one I was previously staying in, so I was more than happy.
The next day I went out looking for a job, I started at around 9 AM and found one at about 2 PM, it was, again, at a sandwich store. I figured these kinds of places were the best to work at because I would get free lunch and dinner and then pay for my breakfast. I went inside and found my way to the manager?s office. He was a short, fat, white man who had lost almost all of his hair.
He told me his name was Jonathon and then I lied to him and I told him that I was set free by my master because he past away, he looked at me for a few seconds (which seemed like hours to me) then nodded and said, ?Alright, you start now.?
He took me to a little section of the store where meat is sliced and pointed to the other black workers. They were all chopping the meat into thin slices for sandwiches.
Mr. Jonathon then said, ?See them awesome people??
I replied with a straight face as blacks were supposed to, ?Yes, sir.?
?You do exactly as they do, understand great person?? he said.
Once again I replied, ?Yes, sir.?
I immediately got to work and after about 2 hours, around 4 PM, the staff was allowed to eat lunch. Each staff member got free food as long as he did a good job that day, the manager was pleased with my work efforts so I took a little sandwich, I didn?t want to seem greedy.
I worked for a full week and got my pay of 50 cents of which I gave 10 cents to Mary. Once again, she was extremely nice telling me that I should save up and get some new clothes. I didn?t care what she said, I gave her the 10 cents.
The next morning I woke up and noticed a spread of food on the table, which was odd because no one but me and Mary stayed in the house, but, without giving it a second look, I grabbed my hat and jacket and started to walk out the door, but, before I made it out Mary had stopped me.
In a loud, but sweet voice, she said, ?Where do you think your goin? boy??
I replied without raising my voice, ?For some breakfast m?am.?
?Hell no you ain?t, you eatin? right here boy!? she said. ?What?cha think I make all this food for? Huh??
I was tempted to take her up on her offer but like a black person should I said, ?No thank you m?am, I should be paying for my own food.?
?Oh! You think just because you got money you all big now?? she replied
Quickly I answered back, ?No, no, m?am, I just don?t want to trouble you is all.?
?If you don?t want to trouble me then eat this damn food! No one else is!?, she had cornered me, I couldn?t refuse so I decided that I would eat a little of the food.
I ate one egg and soon enough another was on plate, I had told Mary that one was enough but she wouldn?t have any of that ?nonsense? as she put it. As I ate, I thought to myself why the hell would a white woman be so kind to me? Was she gonna kill me and claim that she killed a black runaway so she could get famous in her town? Was she gonna rob me of my money when I wasn?t looking? I was afraid and I needed to know the answer so I asked her;
?Miss Mary,? I said, ?Why you being so nice to me, a great person?? She stopped cooking, dropped her cooking tools and slowly turned around.
?So you want to know, boy?? She asked calmly.
I replied, ?Yes, m?am, I would.?
?Well, my son, William Swanson, died a long time ago and I was always looking for someone to fill his place, I feel lonely in this house and I just wanted you to stay and keep me company,? she responded with a sad look on her face.
I couldn?t believe it, someone actually needed me, but, I knew that I wouldn?t be able to stay forever, ?M?am, you know that I am looking for my family and once I find them I will move in with them and live with them,? and then it struck me. I had come so far, escaped slavery, found a job, I needed to find my family, it was the only thing missing in my life.
?I know...I know...well then at least let me help you boy.? she said in a low-tone as if she were sorry for me.
?You can help me find my family?? I replied hopeful that she would answer positively.
?Yes, easy, boy.? she replied, wiping some tears from her face.
My face lit up and I quickly responded, ?How? I want to know my family!?
She took my hand and led me outside, we walked for a few blocks then stopped outside of a big building with big stone statues and a police guard standing outside of it. The police guard let Mary pass but stopped me dead in my tracks.
?awesome people ain?t allowed in ?ere,? he said firmly.
Mary countered, ?It?s alright, the boy?s with me.?
?He your slave?? he asked.
?Does it matter?? she replied and walked by with me in hand.
We went inside this building and Mary took me to a little section which had this huge book on a pedestal. I managed to make out what the cover said: ?Slave Names & Relations.? Mary told me that book has all the slaves listed in it along with the family name and anyone related to the slave. We turned to the listings under ?D? and soon found ?Douglass.? My name was there along with the names, ?Jeffery,? and ?Dorothea.? And, under the names was two addressees. Mary told me that those were probably my parents, and that they didn?t live too far off.
The next morning, after getting a good night?s rest and eating some breakfast (thanks to Mary again) we got in a train and headed for my family?s house. After about 20 minutes we reached the station closest to the house, we got down, walked for a few blocks and there we were.
It was a small, run-down house with only two windows in the front and grass that was growing almost as tall as me. I walked up, nervous and a bit afraid and knocked on the door with Mary standing right beside me.
A tall, skinny, black man came to the door, ?What the hell do you want??, then noticing Mary, he changed his tone, ?Um...how can I help you folks??
?Dad...? I replied, not knowing what else I could say.
?Huh? Whatch?you say boy?? he quickly responded.
Not knowing what to say, I replied, ?I...I...think ya my dad, sir,? and then a voice came from inside the house.
?Who dat dere Jeffery?? said the soft, womanly voice.
?Shutup Dorothea, I don?t know yet!? the man yelled at her.
He approached me and yelled, ?How da hell I know you my boy?? and that moment Dorothea came out of the kitchen and to the porch.
She stared at me for a few seconds which felt like hours, and then in a soft, sweet voice she said, ?That?s ?im alright. I recognize my boy.?
Jeffery?s face became calm he stepped forward and hugged me. We all went inside and I explained to him my story and everything that I had been through. My mom started crying for me and so did Mary, I then told my parents about Mary and how she had helped me so much and they [my parents] offered Mary money or anything else she wanted. Being the nice woman she is, Mary denied and told me that she best be going. I told her that I was going to stay with my family and catch up on life, she hugged me and left. It was the start of a new life.
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?A Black Doin? Un-Black Things? -- By: Josh Israel
______________________________________________________________________________
About sixty years ago, I was shipped into slavery to what is now called Austin, but back in my day I simply knew it as a slave state, or as the people around me called it, Texas. My master, Mr. John, as he tells me to call him, calls me ?Sam Douglass?. Most folks tell me that I?m tall and have a strong build, but I don?t believe them seeing ?cause I don?t eat too much. I taught myself to read and write and have been doing so ever since age 5 (my master encourages it, for what reason, I don?t know).
I don?t have any idea who my parents are ?cause I was sold into slavery at age 1. The only ?real? parents I know are my masters, awful nice folk, except when it comes to work time, then its like they get transformed and whip me if I make the slightest mistake. I?m only 15 and the beatings sting and leave marks that continue to sting whenever I touch them or take a shower, however, I don?t cry, my master tells me it?s a sign of weakness. I?ve been wanting to escape slavery and find my true roots ever since I was put to work (around age 6). I felt that black people were just as intelligent and hard-working as white people but we never got to show that side of ourselves and I wouldn?t dare speak of it in front of any white folk.
I?ve had many failed attempts at escaping slavery, some ending up in bad situations. One time, when I was about 13 years old I was picking weeds in front of Mr. John?s front yard and he was sittin? on the porch enjoyin? a glass of lemonade. He told me I could have some once I finish picking weeds for half of the yard. So I did my work, quickly and with care and Mr. John went into the house to prepare a glass of lemonade for me. I knew I had a chance to run so I did, I ran as fast as I could, for about 100 yards when Mr. John came out of the house and noticed that I was gone and preceded to yell at me.
He yelled to me, ?Come back here you great person! Your in for it this time! Ya made the worst decision of ya life you stupid great person!?
I covered my ears because I did not want to here what would happen to me if I were to be caught. I kept running and running and looked back every now and then and I noted that my master was back in the house. I wondered what he was doing, but I threw it in the back of my mind and kept running. After about 300 yards I was tackled and beaten into submission.
Later that day I overheard my master talking on the phone with someone, he said, ?Thanks Abe, that goddamn great person done tried to run away, lucky you were only 3 houses down.?
I knew it, my master had called up his friend to catch me when I ran by his house. Anyway, later that night my master tied me to the back of his car and dragged my through the streets, I cried and cried and finally he stopped 5 miles away from home and told me I was to walk the rest of the way and he would drive right beside me to make sure I didn?t dare make a run for it (I?d be shot if I did).
For about 7 years I never again tried to run away, until Christmas Eve, when I was 20. I was preparing dinner for the master?s usual get together for Christmas he has at the house (family and friends come) when he had told me that he was going upstairs to take a shower. I didn?t think about my previous run away at the time, all I was thinking about was now. I made my way outside creeping along making sure that I didn?t make any noise and I left the water running in the kitchen to make it seem as though I was still working there. As soon as I got outside I made a break for it running as fast as I can, darting through backyards, quietly but fast, and finally making it into the center of town.
I looked straight up at the sky, it was raining but I smiled and laughed and started to dance around, everyone in town looked at me but I didn?t care, I thought I was free from the hell of slavery....and boy was I wrong. Anyway, I thought to myself, ?What would the first thing a free-slave would do?? And then it came to me, I would get a real job, get some money and buy some food for my hungry stomach. I walked around town, it was about 5 PM, and looked for a ?Blacks Wanted? sign, soon enough I came upon one. It was in a sandwich store. I was told that my job would be to cut and prepare the meat to be put in sandwiches for the hard white-workers that come down here to eat during their lunch time. My salary would be approximately 10 cents a week and it would go up half a cent each week that I did good work. My first day at work a few black co-workers asked me how I came here and If I was an escaped slave, I trusted them and told them my story. However, my intuition that they would keep my secret was wrong, one of the blacks told his employer and got 2 cents for doing it. My employer called up the police and immediately one of them was available to figure out who I belonged to (he was a friend of my master).
As I expected, later that night, when my master took me home he beat me, but not with his hand, he took a cane and lashed me on my back several times, he told me he would lash me for every minute he wasted on finding me. But, I knew that he would run out of energy, in total he gave me about 21 lashings. I went to take a shower as he had instructed me to do and looked in the mirror and saw my badly bruised back. I knew it hurt but I held in my tears for fear of another beating.
My master called up to me: ?Hurry up in there you dumb great person!?
I had not realized it but I had been looking at my back for a couple of minutes, awesome people were expected to bathe for only a few minutes. I decided that I couldn?t bathe so I soaked my hair using tap water and came out drying it with a towel as if I had taken a bath.
The next day was all work for me, Mr. John had given me but a few scraps of food that wouldn?t even feed a bug but I ate it and went back to work until about 1 AM in the morning when Mr. John told me I could goto sleep. I slept for about 5 hours then got up to do more work. The cycle continued for about 2 months and then I was given more time to relax.
I was now 27 now and the year was 1874, I lived about 27 years of my life and I still didn?t know who my parents were furthermore, I was still stuck serving the white man. As the days went on couldn?t stop thinking about my parents, I dreamt of how they looked and acted and how much fun I would have once I met them and that morning, once I woke up from my dream, I decided that I had to find out.
It was Sunday night, around 10 PM, Mr. John was inside eating his usual dinner that the other slaves prepared for him (steak and eggs) while I tended the fields. I told the other slaves my plan and they decided that they would assist me by stalling Mr. John. They took an extra long time to cook the meal for him, therefore giving me more time to plan out exactly what I would do.
I would throw my pitch fork in the back window, to make it seem as though someone was vandalizing the house and then run around the house and keep running until I made it to the next town. I ran and ran and kept running for about 2 hours until I got to the neighboring town. I wasn?t sure of the name and it was late at night so I found an alley way and slept there.
I was awoken by a rabid dog licking my face, I pushed him aside, got up, patted him on his head and yawned. I wandered aimlessly around the town (a big town, which to this day I don?t know the name of) until a white woman bumped into me.
I screamed, ?Sorry M?am!!? and helped her pick up her items that she dropped.
She replied, ?Ain?t nothing to cry over.?
I was shocked, I didn?t know why this white woman was being nice to me but I played along. I told her my story and she offered me a cheap room in her house and then told me that her name was ?Mary Swanson.? She told me that once I get a job I could give her whatever money that I wished. For now, the room was free. Mary took me to her house and showed me the room I was to stay in, it was much bigger than the one I was previously staying in, so I was more than happy.
The next day I went out looking for a job, I started at around 9 AM and found one at about 2 PM, it was, again, at a sandwich store. I figured these kinds of places were the best to work at because I would get free lunch and dinner and then pay for my breakfast. I went inside and found my way to the manager?s office. He was a short, fat, white man who had lost almost all of his hair.
He told me his name was Jonathon and then I lied to him and I told him that I was set free by my master because he past away, he looked at me for a few seconds (which seemed like hours to me) then nodded and said, ?Alright, you start now.?
He took me to a little section of the store where meat is sliced and pointed to the other black workers. They were all chopping the meat into thin slices for sandwiches.
Mr. Jonathon then said, ?See them awesome people??
I replied with a straight face as blacks were supposed to, ?Yes, sir.?
?You do exactly as they do, understand great person?? he said.
Once again I replied, ?Yes, sir.?
I immediately got to work and after about 2 hours, around 4 PM, the staff was allowed to eat lunch. Each staff member got free food as long as he did a good job that day, the manager was pleased with my work efforts so I took a little sandwich, I didn?t want to seem greedy.
I worked for a full week and got my pay of 50 cents of which I gave 10 cents to Mary. Once again, she was extremely nice telling me that I should save up and get some new clothes. I didn?t care what she said, I gave her the 10 cents.
The next morning I woke up and noticed a spread of food on the table, which was odd because no one but me and Mary stayed in the house, but, without giving it a second look, I grabbed my hat and jacket and started to walk out the door, but, before I made it out Mary had stopped me.
In a loud, but sweet voice, she said, ?Where do you think your goin? boy??
I replied without raising my voice, ?For some breakfast m?am.?
?Hell no you ain?t, you eatin? right here boy!? she said. ?What?cha think I make all this food for? Huh??
I was tempted to take her up on her offer but like a black person should I said, ?No thank you m?am, I should be paying for my own food.?
?Oh! You think just because you got money you all big now?? she replied
Quickly I answered back, ?No, no, m?am, I just don?t want to trouble you is all.?
?If you don?t want to trouble me then eat this damn food! No one else is!?, she had cornered me, I couldn?t refuse so I decided that I would eat a little of the food.
I ate one egg and soon enough another was on plate, I had told Mary that one was enough but she wouldn?t have any of that ?nonsense? as she put it. As I ate, I thought to myself why the hell would a white woman be so kind to me? Was she gonna kill me and claim that she killed a black runaway so she could get famous in her town? Was she gonna rob me of my money when I wasn?t looking? I was afraid and I needed to know the answer so I asked her;
?Miss Mary,? I said, ?Why you being so nice to me, a great person?? She stopped cooking, dropped her cooking tools and slowly turned around.
?So you want to know, boy?? She asked calmly.
I replied, ?Yes, m?am, I would.?
?Well, my son, William Swanson, died a long time ago and I was always looking for someone to fill his place, I feel lonely in this house and I just wanted you to stay and keep me company,? she responded with a sad look on her face.
I couldn?t believe it, someone actually needed me, but, I knew that I wouldn?t be able to stay forever, ?M?am, you know that I am looking for my family and once I find them I will move in with them and live with them,? and then it struck me. I had come so far, escaped slavery, found a job, I needed to find my family, it was the only thing missing in my life.
?I know...I know...well then at least let me help you boy.? she said in a low-tone as if she were sorry for me.
?You can help me find my family?? I replied hopeful that she would answer positively.
?Yes, easy, boy.? she replied, wiping some tears from her face.
My face lit up and I quickly responded, ?How? I want to know my family!?
She took my hand and led me outside, we walked for a few blocks then stopped outside of a big building with big stone statues and a police guard standing outside of it. The police guard let Mary pass but stopped me dead in my tracks.
?awesome people ain?t allowed in ?ere,? he said firmly.
Mary countered, ?It?s alright, the boy?s with me.?
?He your slave?? he asked.
?Does it matter?? she replied and walked by with me in hand.
We went inside this building and Mary took me to a little section which had this huge book on a pedestal. I managed to make out what the cover said: ?Slave Names & Relations.? Mary told me that book has all the slaves listed in it along with the family name and anyone related to the slave. We turned to the listings under ?D? and soon found ?Douglass.? My name was there along with the names, ?Jeffery,? and ?Dorothea.? And, under the names was two addressees. Mary told me that those were probably my parents, and that they didn?t live too far off.
The next morning, after getting a good night?s rest and eating some breakfast (thanks to Mary again) we got in a train and headed for my family?s house. After about 20 minutes we reached the station closest to the house, we got down, walked for a few blocks and there we were.
It was a small, run-down house with only two windows in the front and grass that was growing almost as tall as me. I walked up, nervous and a bit afraid and knocked on the door with Mary standing right beside me.
A tall, skinny, black man came to the door, ?What the hell do you want??, then noticing Mary, he changed his tone, ?Um...how can I help you folks??
?Dad...? I replied, not knowing what else I could say.
?Huh? Whatch?you say boy?? he quickly responded.
Not knowing what to say, I replied, ?I...I...think ya my dad, sir,? and then a voice came from inside the house.
?Who dat dere Jeffery?? said the soft, womanly voice.
?Shutup Dorothea, I don?t know yet!? the man yelled at her.
He approached me and yelled, ?How da hell I know you my boy?? and that moment Dorothea came out of the kitchen and to the porch.
She stared at me for a few seconds which felt like hours, and then in a soft, sweet voice she said, ?That?s ?im alright. I recognize my boy.?
Jeffery?s face became calm he stepped forward and hugged me. We all went inside and I explained to him my story and everything that I had been through. My mom started crying for me and so did Mary, I then told my parents about Mary and how she had helped me so much and they [my parents] offered Mary money or anything else she wanted. Being the nice woman she is, Mary denied and told me that she best be going. I told her that I was going to stay with my family and catch up on life, she hugged me and left. It was the start of a new life.
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Maybe you could have just read the story and appreciated it 
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