Brittingham, Marie H. (1904-2002)
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Copyright: Records are open for research. Copyright, including literary rights, belongs to the Worcester County Library. Permission to publish or reproduce must be obtained from the Worcester County Library which extends beyond “fair use”.
Worcester County Library: Local History and Genealogy Collection, Snow Hill Branch, Snow Hill, MD
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Interviewee: |
Marie H Brittingham (1904-2002) |
| Interviewer: | Alvin West |
| Date of interview: |
1982 April 15 |
| Length of interview: | 1 hr 35 min |
| Transcribed by: | Ruth Alcorn, Worcester County Library |
| Preferred Citation: |
“Name, Oral History Collection, Date of Interview, Worcester County Library, Snow Hill Branch, Snow Hill, Maryland.” |
Topical Terms:
Domestic Life
Local History
Snow Hill (Md.)—History
Snow Hill Parade
Ocean City (Md.)—History
Worcester County (Md.)—History
Worcester County (Md.)—Social life and customs
Worcester County (Md.)—Women's History
Location Terms:
Ocean City (Md.)
Snow Hill (Md.)
Interview begin:
ALVIN: Could you tell me your name please?
MARIE: Marie H. Brittingham.
ALVIN: Okay, and when were you born?
MARIE: On March, the 2nd, 1904.
ALVIN: Okay, were you born at home?
MARIE: No. Yes, I was born at home, but not this house. Yes, I was born at home.
ALVIN: Your parents’ names please.
MARIE: Jerome T. And Harriette C. Henley.
ALVIN: Okay, were you raised by your parents or another relative?
MARIE: By my parents.
ALVIN: Did you have any brothers or sisters?
MARIE: None.
ALVIN: How old were you when started school?
MARIE: Six.
ALVIN: Can you tell me where you went to school?
MARIE: Snow Hill Elementary.
ALVIN: Where did you live when you were younger?
MARIE: Right where I am living now, I was brought here as a baby.
ALVIN: Did you go to college?
MARIE: Yes.
ALVIN: Where at?
MARIE: Temple University, Philadelphia Pennsylvania.
ALVIN: What did your parents do for a living?
MARIE: My father was a manager at C&P Telephone Company
ALVIN: Were you married?
MARIE: Yes.
ALVIN: Could you tell me when you were married?
MARIE: Married April the 8th 1931.
ALVIN: Did you have any children?
MARIE: One son.
ALVIN: Tell me his name.
MARIE: Neil C. Brittingham.
ALVIN: Were your parents very religious?
MARIE: Just average.
ALVIN: Did you attend the church on Sunday?
MARIE: Whitecoat Methodist.
ALVIN: Can you tell me some of the events you did when you were younger, when you were at church?
MARIE: In my church?
ALVIN: Yes.
MARIE: Well I belonged to the, um Sunday school chorus. I was active in the youth group which was the Love Cecil Club. I taught Sunday school for 27 years, I was singing in the back of the Baptist church choir for 37 years. And I guess I was as active as you could be.
ALVIN: Okay.
MARIE: I am still at the present time in one of the circles.
ALVIN: Okay could you tell me about the events in your childhood?
MARIE: Some events?
ALVIN: Remember what, more events?
MARIE: Well one of the biggest events we used to have in Snow Hill was when we had the 4th of July parade, or one of the little parade's in Snow Hill when they had the floats and um, Mr. William G. Curving used ride a beautiful white horse as the leader of the parade, always, at the head of the parade. And at one time Randell colonel brood, a, it was a huge campaign when he was running for president and Randell Pearl who was at that time was living in Snow Hill, president of Stead rode a donkey with the back of it on the side of it saying "Asses For Hughes ". It was real cute. He brought up a quite, quite a lot of applause, and then on the other side of his back said. "Hughes behind" real funny. Well we had picnic, we had um church festival, which everybody attended, the church and had them and up on Park road they used to have festivals for 4th of July that everybody contributed cake and ice cream at that time and point of event. And then um, for years we had our dance hall up at Walter price's store, where we had square dancing and we used to ride uh, well we used to go bicycle riding, of course I never could ride one so I always had to ride with somebody else but um we used to go skating an awful lot, and when they built the first part of the that goes from Snow Hill to Girdletree it only went as far as where Mr. Akensakwen lives, now that woods and uh, I used to chaperone when I was older, the younger kids, and we'd go out, and then would, we'd have picnics, carry hot dogs and drinks and roast the hot dogs, then skate back to snow hill which was quite a treat. Then on Sunday a lot of times. When the old people by boat came, the old boat can by way of reservoir. It was quite fun every time she left on Sunday, everybody go down see what come go off. That was everybody walk out, and walk down to the river to the boat and see that everybody goodbye and five of us would climb on top of it and have our pictures taken and then um, another cut was um, everybody go down and see , now that time the railroad station is right where holly farms is now but their wind scales is where their old railroad station used to be years ago, and everybody would walk out on Sunday down to see the train come in, and then we went on hayrides to Public Landing , that was quite a treat. My grandfather and grandmother owned Cheen, that was well they had well, he was a mover and a lumber man in town and my grandfather had this old beat wagon he used to fill it with, uh, shu-… corn shucks down the bottom and then straw on top of that so that you wouldn't sink through and we'd go to public landing. It would take quite a little while to get down there with our horses and mules, for sometimes we had mules, and erm, then we'd go down out to Nassawanga which is the iron furnace, go and saw everybody out there and have a picnic but it was more fun to go out to Public Landing in the summertime on a straw ride because you could go swimming. A lot of the kids liked to do that.
ALVIN: And did you visit many other towns in Worcester county when you were younger?
MARIE: Yes, um I used to go to Salisbury quite a bit at that time and then, now that was, I would say at the age of fourteen to fifteen. I used to go to Berlin and Ocean City an awful lot with my father because he was manager of both Berlin and Ocean City telephone companies, and I'd go over there with him and I used to go Chincoteague, a lot of the old black boot at Mr. Baton, old Frank Baton. I'd go across with him and spend a day in Chincoteague. You know I tan quite a bit that way.
ALVIN: Okay could you tell me about some of the political figures in Snow Hill
MARIE: Well of course, Senator John p. Moore was one of the outstanding men and he was state senator, not a United states senator, but a state senator. My father worked for him for a number of years and drove his automobile. And used to go to Naples with him and then senator John Walter Smith, I can remember him because I was a little girl. Senator Smith was a very outstanding person in the town and that was in the old days, now in the newer days I guess um well I think Judge Johnson and of course Mr. Bill Korban, quite an outstanding figure in politics at the time. A lawyer here in town. I don't really go too far back with politicians only that far, but I do distinctly remember senator Smith and Moore.
ALVIN: How have your political views changed since you were younger, and due to that…?
MARIE: Well I never thought much about politics to be exact. In my younger days I never gave politics much thought because um well I had no right to think about them until I became a voting age and when I went to teaching school here in Snow Hill, I was not old enough to vote. And we had a bond issue for the schools at the time they put the cross, and I wasn't old enough to vote for it though I was teaching.
ALVIN: Where did you vote at? When you came of age.
MARIE: Snow Hill.
ALVIN: Okay. How old did you have to be to vote?
MARIE: We had to be 18. Oh no 21, 21 to vote-
ALVIN: Could you tell me…?
MARIE: -I'm just 20, and you had to be 21.
ALVIN: Could you tell me some of the transportation that your parents used?
MARIE: Well in the old days we had horse and buggy. And then from the horse and buggy, I guess we went, I didn't ride much in horse and buggy because my father drove a car for Mr. Moore and after that we bought a car. One of the first fords that came out and that was it.
ALVIN: Okay.
MARIE: My grandmother had a darling surrey with a fringe on top that we all wanted to pile into when we were kids’ grand slams on the side.
ALVIN: Okay, how old were you when you had your first car?
MARIE: My first car or when I first drove a car?
ALVIN: Okay, when you first drove.
MARIE: Well, I first drove a car 1924 that's when I got my license and of course I had a car in my hands, my father had one so I used his car, But really um, to own my first car, I don't know was back in 1945.
ALVIN: Just tell me the kinds of foods you ate when you were younger.
MARIE: Oh, butter beans, corn squash, pumpkin, black-eyed peas, turnips, potatoes, of course that's probably about it.
ALVIN: Didya have any particular thing you like to have? To serve?
MARIE: You mean to eat? Or? No, I eat anything. I was brought up that way.
ALVIN: Kay, how did your mother preserve foods when you were younger?
MARIE: Well when we were going, I can remember there for a while. My mother dried peaches and apples and beans. She would dry them, but later on my mother canned practically everything.
ALVIN: Did your parents, did your mother, make your clothes, or did-
MARIE: At first my mother had to make my clothes because they did not manufacture any that fit me. I was married in a size five dress, and I didn’t know what is was to make a size five dress. And in the country, you couldn't get then buy in the city, you could get size five dresses. The manufacturer put them out at that time but that was back in 31 I could buy my clothes but before that it was very hard for me because I've worn such small sizes and worn, I wore a size twelve and a half shoe until I was sixteen years old. And at the time one, I started with a size one when I was eighteen and it all had to be made to order.
ALVIN: And that-
MARIE: Weighman’s in Baltimore made my shoe.
ALVIN: Could you tell me about some of the things you had to do around the house when you were younger?
MARIE: Well just general things like dusting. I never had to do any cooking, but I did have to do dusting. And cleaning things of that type when I was little. I had to bring in wood and at that time we had stoves, now everybody in town had stoves. Very rarely did anyone have, and my father- we had no electricity. Uh, out here we used coal on a lance, for a number of years, because of the expectant lines stopped- at what we used to call the ditch, which was the coal hut down below me on market street. The town did not serve this district, well there wasn’t but one… two ... there wasn’t but 5 houses out here at that time, and the town did not have the facilities they came by way of. As I said the ditch my father ran his own line from the town, connected from the town, out here, and he also ran his own store. And then we were not, uh, next to the town, oh for…I guess at least fifteen to twenty years later. And my father sold, uh, right away. Of course, he owned…he bought the material… and he owned the store. And he owned the electric line and he sold ‘the right’ for them to come in, so they could have light.
Mr. Chandler’s house, Mr. Layfield’s house… was the next one. Mr Willpierce's house, Mr. Will Timmons, and Mr. Sherman. He allowed them to come in on his lines and then later they took… now Mr. Chowder did not have to come in, he came in in the electric, but he didn't come in on the store. I think he did come in on the water line, but he didn't come in on the store.
ALVIN: Could you tell me about some of the family remedies have?
MARIE: Family what?
ALVIN: Remedies.
MARIE: Well, we didn't have any, really...family remedies… because we had enough. Two doctors, we had Dr. Strong for a number of years. And we had Dr. Ived- who brought me into the world, and he wasn’t supposed to. Dr. Strong was incapacitated, so Dr. Ived. And he did a very unusual thing. At that time, nobody had birth certificates that were registered and Dr. Ived told my mother that I would be registered, and my birth would be registered. And for years we did not know whether he did or did not, you know, they didn’t give you birth certificates at those times. But when I retired from the bank where I worked in 1969, I was told by the cashier that I would have to apply for my birth certificate, and I had quite a problem getting it. I wrote to Washington and sent the money stating that I wish my birth certificate, and in 3 days the birth certificate was in my hands. So, Dr. Ived did do what he said he did, but rarely did anybody, after the AFC… well, up until 1907, 6 or 7. Nobody's birth certificate was registered. Before that they had no birth certificates, but I was very… one of the very fortunate ones. That was unusual.
ALVIN: Did you remember any social class difference between you and the members in town?
MARIE: There's always a social class difference, there sure is.
ALVIN: Did you-
MARIE: Not that anybody in this town is any better than any other person because they're not, and I don’t feel that way about 'em. As far as I'm concerned, everybody is equal and always has been with me. I never tried to be snobbish.
ALVIN: Could you tell me about you visiting Ocean City, and the things you do- and like that?
MARIE: Well, my father used to, of course, have a car at his convenience and at the time he drove uh, the (undecipherable), which was an open top car. It didn’t have any brass lights on the side, all it had was a windshield… no top. And you rode with a shawl, I mean a scarf or tie round your head, and duster on, to keep your clothes from getting dusty. You, uh if you happen to hit a rainy afternoon or night when you were in Ocean City… well, you could expect to be pushed out of a mud hole because you were, at that time, you did not go straight to Ocean City. You went around the Track Mill Palms outside Berlin and came up through South Point in Berlin into Ocean City and you have to, at that time they did have a bridge, but my father, first time he ever rode to Ocean City, he drove a car and had to have permission from the railroad people to drive that car over the railroad… over the ties. And when he got to Ocean City, he couldn't get out. Everybody swamped him because there was only one street and that was down the avenue the railroad station was on and everybody was so curious, some of the people had never seen an automobile and we used to stay at what is now the Maryland Inn. I've spent many a night there as a child as guests of the Moore's and we used to go out on the beach and there wasn’t…there was very few concessions there at that time, and they finally grew and them people began to build concessions all the way along the boardwalk. And also homes, because a lot of the homes were where the concessions are now. Cottages at that time. And it was real nice. We could, um, go fishing. My father would go fish and come with fresh fish and cook 'em for supper. They, oh, they did taste so good. And it was time to go to Ocean City…if you had the nerve to go early on the morning… because you could go down to where the Old Inn is now and that beachfront now is, where they came in with the fishing boats. Mr. Neds and Mr., uh, Lynch, and Mr. Ludlam, Pat Ludlam… all came in with their big boat. They pull ‘em up with a mule and unload the fish on the pipeline and ice ‘em down with ice, and throw ‘em out to take ‘em over to the railroad station. And they would be shipped off to the city. It was quite interesting if you got up real, real early in the morning, and watched them unload the fish. We lost two boys, boys from Snow Hill, in one of those fishing boats. He died, drowned at sea, there was a heavy surf, the boat overturned, and one of the ones drowned. Mr. Taylor was his name, then after a while shrimpers uh, put in the merry-go-round, and the fun house, when I guess I was about twelve years old. Ten or twelve… I must have been ten. They had, um, a fun house and the shrimpers had the carousel and ball games where you pitch the bottle, put the milk bottles, and it was real nice there when you went to Ocean City, but you still had to go 'round through Trap pond. I remember Mr. Willner, the undertaker, went to Ocean City with my father and mother, and my Aunt and Uncle, and when we got there, it was a clear day. By the time we got to Berlin it was thunderstorm…had come up and we found that it had side curtains, the car had side-curtains. Well, the side-curtains were on the car. We used to put them on at night, and just as we got over the Trap Mill pond bridge there was two or three deep water holes, and it was pouring rain. And the car stopped, and my father got out, and hold his (undecipherable) lengthened up to his knees, take his shoes and stockings off, get out and wipe the spark plugs off, and set for a little while to make preacher dried out, and then he took off for Ocean City. Now what'll you do, you’re there such a short time? It means nothing. Now the dirt road, we have a dirt road by this house… there was a dirt road and it wasn’t stone until I guess, I must have been six years old. I just started school when they stoned it, but still had the little bridge, the little wooden bridge down at the end of the street here with a walk, little walk-bridge, ‘aside of the big bridge over the ditch. And stone road only went as far as the five-mile branch, for many a year. And this street here was beautiful. Everybody walked out here at night because they adored it. It met over the top with trees, it was cedar trees on the right hand side coming out and on the left hand side my grandfather had planted maples and the whole street, almost at far as Mr. Truitt's- well it ended up on the hill. As Mr. Truitt, who owns a house, well, Ms. Gladice owns it now, that was as far as… maples didn’t go quite that far. On the other side were trees, cedars. And in the cedars were grapevines. And it was one beautiful wall because the trees almost met. People used to walk up here at night. Then, when I was a kid… it must have started when I was about seven years old, the entire side- the right where Mr. Timmons brick home was… and Mr. Truitt- that whole ground, was a circus! Every June, sometimes it come in July, sometimes in September. But every time, it was the latter part of August, or the first of September when school started. And we used to have beautiful circuses almost as large as Ringling brothers, as they had huts with one of them, but that was the later circuses. I can’t recall the name of the first circus that used to come, but they had Indians. They came with a whole group and they put on the war dances and that was not in the main show. That was after the main show, you had to pay extra. And they had cowboys that did the lassoing and um, riding, and we would cover the entire lining at that time. The lining belonged to Mr. Burroughs, Mr. Sid Burroughs’s father. It was quite a treat because after it was solid width, people, you have to watch because they unloaded all the animals, blankets- and on the side track, which was the one road going toward the river. And that's when they unlocked it all. The animals… they used to come to my grandmother's house to get water for the animals, you know, and for cooking purposes. But it was quite a treat! And they used to have huge parades, had all the elephants, and all fancy costumes. And sometimes we’d be in school… where up we'd be in school…my mother wouldn't let me stay home. And uh, a lot of times the school would be 'bout out, in time to see the circus parade. It quite a treat then. It was a pretty sight to see all the costumed animals. That was the last time I can remember of any size of a circus being in Snow Hill and, I could be wrong. Would have been back in 1927, 'round that, uh, because the hut was one of the last one was here back in 1938, and I think that was back on the other side of town going towards Pocomoke. And I think that's the last one that's ever been in town. It was a nice little circus, but it has been cut down quite a bit. I have to remember my mother taking my son to that circus, that time. Of course, he had been to the large circus because I had taken him to Barnum and Bailey, when it showed in Baltimore, and that was before it went in that civic center. That was when it was out with the tent tops. One time I went to Barnum and Bailey circus, in Philadelphia, when I was in college and the tent leaked. It was raining outside. It rained all day, not a day before, the night before, but it poured rain and when we went that night it was raining inside, and we came out soaking wet. We didn’t have a dry thing on. We were just like drowned rats. But after that, shortly after that, they did something about the canvas. And then after that, you know they had a bad fire and then the surface went inside. Now it's all under the roof. And it's not nearly as attractive, in the rain, as it was out of the ground.
I don’t know if this is something, but I can go back, well, I worked the switchboard for the C&P telephone companies and was payed for it, but I wasn't (just) twelve years old. During the world war my father has every aisle, but two operators were out with the flu, and there was no could operate the switchboard. And I had been working and operating the switchboard since I was 8 years old, and it was when it was over the Dickinson's before the other side of (undecipherable) ward had the last half of his office, it was up there in that office, upstairs. Well, the first one in Snow Hill was in Mrs. Hammel's, and that is where, next to the laundry mat, that the first telephone office- and it was not of the C&P telephone company. It was owned by Pocomoke city. And that company the first of it. Dr Walter of Pocomoke, Henry Walters’s grandfather, and my father, worked for them at that time. He was doing 3 jobs, different jobs- being worked for them. He was a trouble-shooter for them, and of course we had telephone. I guess my daddy had the first one they were putting in Snow Hill, and that was in the house where Mel Regent lives now. And dad worked for them and then began to move subscribers. And Mrs. Campbell's house was too small for the new switchboard they were going to install. And then, they moved up, over the building, where they had his insurance office. And dad had, at that time, you didn't have any service after 11 o'clock. There was no more... you couldn't have any night call. There wasn’t any place for it back then. But then when they moved back up, they installed a ninth operator. And Mr. Wilson was one of them, and, I'm trying to think of them all, I can’t remember their names, but I remember Mr. Stay.
I learned to work the switchboard because I had gone up with my father, and at that time we got all long-distance calls. Any place you called, we put the call through. The switchboard was very high, the seat was lower, and I sat on 2 big pillows to reach the switchboard. And the boys would go down to the opera house or they'd wanna go out to a Steve Mason’s to get a drink, which was an ice cream parlor. And they would leave me to work the switchboard, while they went down, and of course always brought me back an ice cream cone- so I never objected. And that way, I learned to work the switchboard and it was very, very nice because when the flu epidemic did come…well, at that time they had moved to gain, they had moved the switchboard over to the…they had moved it twice, they had moved it over next to the post office building. And I was too young to stay alone at night so one of my aunts, Aunt Margie went with me and we were not allowed to sleep. We had to stay up all night and we did not have cots and, uh, mama did bring up a cot for my aunt so she could sleep while I worked, uh, the switchboard. Well as night got greater, after she went down with the flu, after days operators went down with the flu, and the one operator who was on her feet going couldn't do all of the work, I would leave from school at 4 o'clock, go back to the office, work till 7 o'clock. My father at that time would bring me my dinner, or my aunt, one or the other, and I would continue to work. I did that for two solid weeks. My father was stricken with the flu when the operators came back, and between the two of us, well, we worked for a week- that's the two of us. Then when another came back it was three of us operators, working to keep the lines going, and to keep service in this town. And from then on, I'd work every summer the switchboard and did that, well, I would go in the summertime, the beginning of June.
I would go with my dad to Ocean City. And at that time they had put in the first PBS and it had went in the Majestic Hotel and they would have to check out the main, each one of the rooms, to see if they were in proper working order. And I would work the switchboard, ringing the phones, and each one of his assistants would go room to room to check all the phones. I rang the phones, see that was before the hotel opened, you see, for the season. And uh, I uh, well I…dad hired a girl from Ocean City and was told that she could not be employed. She was paralyzed from the waist from infantile paralysis. And it had to be installed, before it was installed, he was told he could not hire the girl while she was paralyzed. And my father said: “She is going to work, and she's going on the payroll. So, you can tell the telephone company that." And they did accept her. And the office was in her mother's home and after they let her, my father hired two other employees there, and when one of the girls would be sick, or something, I would go over in the summertime and help out over there. But that girl- that the county refused to hire, at first, she never left that switchboard, and was given the medal of honor for staying as opposed... and she was quite a hero, I always say, at that time. But I like the company job, at the switchboard. The company paid very well, uh…I worked the first summer, then my senior year I was offered either the chief operator at Crisfield or the chief operator in Berlin. And, my father said: " No. She wants to go, I want her to go to college." So that's what happened. I went to college instead, and sometimes, I wonder if I wouldn't have been just as well off if I'd have stayed with the company.
ALVIN: Okay um, when you went to college, you started teaching school after that...?
MARIE: My first teaching position was in Snow Hill High school.
ALVIN: And what did you teach?
MARIE: I taught Commercial. The juniors and seniors, and post graduates.
ALVIN: And how long did you teach?
MARIE: Two years here. Then I taught in Bel Air, Maryland. Then I taught in Collingswood, NJ. And then I taught in Salisbury. And I stopped teaching to get married.
ALVIN: Okay,um, was your husband from Snow Hill?
MARIE: Uh, no he was not.
ALVIN: Okay where was he from?
MARIE: Wilmington DE.
ALVIN: Did you live in Snow Hill when you got married?
MARIE: No. I lived in Wilmington. I came back and forth from Wilmington to Snow Hill to teach my pharmacy class for a year. Every Sunday.
ALVIN: Did you still work after you got married?
MARIE: No, I did not go to work until my son was four years...four and a half years old. When I went to work and I was asked to go to First National Bank in Snow Hill to work and I went and I was supposed to work to take Charles Nelson's place while he was on his honeymoon and I ended up staying, uh…Charles came back and I never left for two and a half years. Then I was asked to go to the county treasurer's office to work with Mr. Roger Lanford and it was more money, so I took the job. Then I left, well, no I'm sorry, I left the bank and went to the draft board. I stayed on the draft board just 9 months and was instructed as the assistant cashier, and he was to be drafted. And Dr.Riley had told him that if he went in service, he would not have this position back. So, I said, well, William came to me, so I said : "…that is not fair, I can't go into service, and he has to go." So I went to Dr. Riley and asked Dr. Riley if I could, that I would go back to work at the bank, if he would promise William that when he came out of the service he could have his job. And Dr. Riley agreed. He knew I knew the work, and when William's number was called, I gave him the number from the draft-board and went back to the First National Bank. And I left there and Mr. Roger Lanford came over to the bank, then. Instead of going out when William came back, I was still held on. So that was 7 years with First National Bank. Then, I went with Mr. Roger Lanford, and I stayed through his term of office…through Mr. Stigmans’s. John Stigman came in at the time as the treasurer, and his year, first year, I was asked to go to the, now the Maryland National Bank, at that time, Gavis-Chris Company. I was asked to go, and I went there because it was more money, better benefits- and I stayed there 19 years. I retired from there. But I can remember when I was child, we, going back to childhood, we had a very old man, I thought he was old because he was over 50, which seemed quite old to me, older. He used to come by every Saturday with ice cream. He had two big gallons, I think they were gallon and a half, or two gallons, anyway…um, chocolate and vanilla. One was chocolate, one was vanilla, and you got a big bowel of ice cream 5 cents a pointed dip. And I remember that, I'm not used to that, people (were) out to the gate. We had a picket-fence, at the time, and I'd go swing on the gate with my bowel, waiting for Mr. John Doe, were to come by with the ice cream. He'd ring a little bell all the way up to Charlie's house, which was 'round the corner. He rang a little bell to let you know he was coming. Because at the time ice cream came down here by train. And Mr. Tarkwich was an Alaskan, had an ice cream parlor. And Mr. Tarkwich was the only one to have ice cream to sell and sometimes, it would come down and it would have salt in it, and you couldn’t bare it, unpalatable. But you had to try to get the top part off by the box, or, by the dish and it came in little paper boxes. You fill the box, you tell 'im how much you want- a quart or a pint or half gallon. And he'd fill the box for you. And we didn't get ice cream all the time. Sometimes we missed the train and didn’t have ice cream, like today, going to different markets and buying ice cream. Mr. Robert Cluck, and, right where the restaurant is now, uh, now that's the, I don’t know what they call it- Town Country?
ALVIN: I don't know.
MARIE: Town...well, it's not Evelyn's it the other one. Uh, that's where Mr. Cluck has a store, at that time, and that was the grocery store and was Mr. Barbejuh’s ice cream parlor and Charlie Johnson's store, and then his wife's millinery store, then the theater. Now the theater was upstairs. We don’t have downstairs theater. You walked up quite a flight of stairs to watch a movie and every one of the graduation ceremonies I stood on that platform. I stood on that stage twice, when I graduated in 1920, then again in 1922. I hold two diplomas- one from Snow Hill High school…that's right…the first one was straight academic, the second one was commercial. I completed 2 years of commercial in 1 year under Ms. Smith Elsa Garden and I can remember every play that they had, every social event that we had. Uh, if we had a minstrel or anything, we always had it in Mason’s Opera House, and it was upstairs. The dressing rooms were below. And in 1921 Harvey Pusey and I had the lead in our class play, which was Cricket Of The Heart, and it was held up there. And classes before, that had graduations, Ms. Wally Shockley and Mr. Jones’s, in the post office. Ms. Wally and I always played a duet, years ago. And it was a lot of fun then because the ice cream parlor Mr. Steve Mason had underneath, had the ice cream parlor. Now, one side had tables and the other side, just the long bar. And it was a lot of fun to go down, after the movies. And the movies had cost only 10 cents. Now you go down, get an ice cream cone for a nickel and for 15 cents got you had a treat. But it’s not that way anymore. Much to my sorrow, I think, I think back, I think of the children of today who really don’t have as much fun as we did. We made our own fun, like taffy pulling and uh, popcorn balls…we made balls, big pans of popcorn balls, and pull taffy, until your arms ached. But it was real light and gold colored and snapped right off in your mouth. And we'd have a party and it…everybody, you know, it was not… you had one this week, somebody else had one the next week. And you go to somebody's house to play cards. Everybody has a treat for you. It was fun. But today I don't think you children have as much fun as we did. And I can only say I'm glad I grew up when I did. I don’t regret one minute of it. We used to have a lot of fun, I never could ice skate, but I could always roller skate. My mother would never let me go on the ice, and at that time, we had the cattle guards, which I'm sure you never heard of, uh, its right where they put the new road through that was the cattle guards, down the railroad. And it was a big pond, on the right-hand side of the railroad track, and it would, of course, freeze in the winter because we had bitter cold winters. Much more than last year. That was just a sample of what we used to have. In July, it started in, um, November. I've seen snow at Thanksgiving. When my grandfather died, we had snow on the ground at Thanksgiving. And that was back in 1910. That's right, 1910. And, I know that I heard my grandmother say that her brother, Mr. Will Katy, used to take her skating. He would pull a chair, a rocker, and skate down the river with her. And my grandfather Henley had an ice house, the only one in Snow Hill. And he used to cut his blocks of ice out of this river. He and his crew of men. He always had a crew of men working for him. And he would cut the ice and put it in a sawdust, and he sold ice in this town all summer long. There was no other ice to be gotten because nobody had ice at those times. And that's a long time ago. Cos my dad would be 100 years old this year. He's only been dead nine years. So, I'd seen the bay at Public Landing when it was frozen solid clear out to the channel. Deep enough for them to skate from way up the creek, way up the bay down to Public Landing. He'd make a fire out there on the ice and it'd never go through. But we don’t have those kinds of winters anymore.
I know I used to walk to school, I, we didn't know what it was for public transportation to school. We walked all the way up. My first school was up to the high school, but we only stayed there a few months. They moved us over Ms. Mary and Dryden's store while they built the new Elementary school, which was torn down two years ago. And I went in there by the second year of, well I went in first part, well the last part of the first year, and then the second year when I, my first teacher was Ms., uh, Margi Benson. And my second teacher was Ms. Goldyore, and third teacher was Ms. Lanly Parsons, and my fourth teacher was Ms., um, Georgie Violable. And then after you left the fourth grade you went up to the high school into the fifth grade and that was Ms. Lizzie Richardson in the old high school. And now the sixth grade, I had Ms. Edna Willis, and the seventh grade was Ms., uh, Ms. Mary Pal, who later became Dr. Northam. She married and she was a chiropractor doctor. She went away, well, first before she went away for the chiropractor she away, went to go to business college, and became a commercial teacher, and taught in Snow Hill. Then, she went to the superintendent's office, and then from there she went away, she was married, and she went away, to study to be a chiropractor doctor. And then I had um, Ms. Julia Bratton and the next teacher was Ms. Edna Wallen, Ms. Alice Sterling, Ms. Emily Dryden, who is now Dr. Bolenworth, and Mr. A.C. Opparis who later became the superintendent. They were my teachers. In high school. And that was the old big high school when we had no gymnasium. We had no music room. We had an assembly hall, which was the music room. That was also…the back part of it, was a classroom. We had…then they bought the old Mr. Evan White's house on the corner and then we had Commercial over there. We first had it in the high school, for a while, and it became so crowded and you need more room. Then they bought the little white house, we called it, and they come… the home economics department was on the first floor. And the commercial department was installed for the first time and it was put upstairs. And that is where I taught. Back in 1924. That's where I taught school.
But, uh, I’ve seen a lot of changes in town. Nothing downtown looks the same. Everything has changed. I can remember where, right beside Mr. Dupris’s, where Paul Jonner has just moved from, there was a store. Mr. Horas Pain, not the Horas Pain that was a miller, but, um, Mr. Pain had a store there on that June of every year…and a lotta changes. I can remember where Bates, there, um, the Methodist Church was moved from, uh, I can’t remember when it was moved but I can remember when I grew up it was a garage, at the time. It was a Whitecoat Methodist Church. And it was moved back, and it became a garage and they built the lovely new church, which we occupy now. And my grandfather and my father hauled the stones and it was Italian stonework from then who did that masonry. They were brought down here from the city, they had a contractor, and then after I was already almost grown, the parsonage was moved down. And it is now where Mr. Brown owns, Mr. Parker Smith owned it first, and then Mr. Brown, I mean Mr. Smith. And that was the Methodist parsonage. They called our house, where the Paul boy lives now, that was owned by Mr. Townsend, Mr. Sam Townsend, that was not… that was an old home, that was a beautiful old home. It was torn down. And that was home was built the but at one time it was a lovely old home. Where the Burl's is now next to the Tallow home, that was one of the most gorgeous homes that we had in this town. And everybody was just sick that that was torn down. Mr. Shockley tore it down and built a new modern home there. But it was a beautiful old home with a lovely old porch, it was built like a southern plantation home. Anyway. And it was beautiful. Then, now, where they had the Worcester Fertilizer Office… used to be, the Richardson Estate, and that was a gorgeous home. And that was torn down. The Gristmill was next, just above that was my great-grandfather home. And it was a two-story one like they had in New York. And he started, they said, the first cash business that was ever started in the county. He was a cabinetmaker. And he made beautiful furniture. And if you took anything down to be made over or to be fixed in any matter, he would not let you have it unless you paid cash for it. Senator Smith one time, that's the colored man, he had a couple of buckets, he had fixed. It was that Mr. Smith had charged to him, Mr. Pitts. And my great-grandfather said: "When he sends the money, he gets the bucket, but not until then.". And that was how they sell them. And, I had the former cover in my home, and that man, Mr. Pavitt, Mr. John Pavitt, made himself. He started out when he was sixteen, and he finished it when he was nineteen. He was 87 years old when he died. And he died when my father wasn't (just) three years old. He was only two and a half when he died. And my father was ninety-one, he would be a hundred years old now, so you make it ninety-eight. And you see how old it comes to. It's as old as almost two-hundred years, old, and the original glass. The original nail and peg that he built was and made, was equal, and are still in that cupboard- even the original fissure. Okay for the cabinet, okay for that team, another piece, I would turn the other rooms another piece. Then they had the table…quite a few pieces, that he, that he built in his late time.
ALVIN: Do you remember ever attending Forrester's Day?
MARIE: Oh, of course. That was the time of the year, and it was everybody that could get there, and it was who, and who could get there first, could pick out a plate. And my grandfather Cordera used to sell a lemonade there, when I was a child. I could remember going, of course, everybody went in horse and buggy or, um, wagons- oh it was straw. And all of the people, oh, we would go to this Church meeting at night and we would never sleep all day, all night. And because they were all cooking, getting ready to go to the party, you know, oh that was the party time. And people went in bathing, in their dresses, in, then, in their trousers. Nobody had bathing suits out there. Everybody went just like it, and if it was a thunderstorm, they got stuck in the mud the night before, stuck in the mud, cos it was all dirt road to Public Landing. It was no stone anywhere to be seen. We didn't even have stone road to Pocomoke until I was a girl, at least twelve years old. That was a dirt road. And it was one at place that Mr. Will Hearn turned his car over and Mr. Duffy was riding with him, was killed. Up on Public Landing, oh the Pocomoke Road, so you see it was nothing really, dirt road everywhere you looked, around here. If you wanted to go to Salisbury, you had to go to Piney Road, and that was nothing but dirt road. And those people from Piney Road like of all the little towns, over there. The Dickinson’s have a store there, and all of a people, you know, from countryside, you know, came around, night, and sat around, to that side and bought their groceries. And went home before night and they would sometimes before 7 o'clock in the morning. Those wagons would be coming in through town, going through Public Landing before you was up there, and later on they…Mr. Will Hearn had a car, and Mr. Will Hearn used to take people down. And, Lloyd Brittingham bought a car and he used to take people down off Public Landing today. And, of course, they paid today for it and I guess they up. And some night, one night, I think it was one time Mr. Hern got stuck, Lloyd got stuck, and they had to spend (by) the car all night long. Nobody to top off of, nobody to get out, there off of… out (direction), used to be really, everybody used to pray that there'd be nice weather, off of farmstead. So, everybody could drive down without having problems. But anyway, I can’t remember what company it was, but anyway, uh, well I guess, at least, where they now have the pavilion. About, um, maybe a 100 feet, maybe more than that... they started building out and they built, um, a restaurant, they had a game, and Walter Charlie, I can remember that...and they had, um, of the extended, of the boardwalk, on out, they had a big bowling alley, and a counter there you buy soft drinks and crackers and things. And they had a big bowling alley. And then Mr. Tom Pearl of the Pearl, on the corner, downtown, on Washington Street. Where Mr. Tom Pearl built a home out there, and lived out there in the summertime, he and his daughter. And, uh, a big storm of 1933, just off the white...(recording breaks). At one time Public Landing was quite a place to go because they had, on Farmers Day, always, people walk up, they had boats on down the creek, and down on the other side the shore. They all came up with their big sail boats cos there was none over of there, it was all big sail boats, and they charged you so much to take the: 'Out On The Moonlight Cruise' out on the bay. And it was a lot of fun there. People crabbed and it was a lot of fun...Public Landing...that all went (away).
ALVIN: Do you remember the big slide that they had there on Pocomoke?
MARIE: That's what I'm talking 'bout that they had there on Pocomoke Creek. That was the one in '33.
ALVIN: No, the slide. They had a big slide. If you remember-
MARIE: Oh! You mean the big slide that went all, oh, I remember that too.
ALVIN: Um, do you remember, um, approximately how high it was?
MARIE: No, I couldn't tell you. I, as far as heights, I had no conception of, I couldn’t tell you hun. But I do know that I remember when they had that slide. They used to have nice things now. They had a miniature carousel there for a while. And they had bathhouses. Of course, they had bathhouses. By the time I was twelve years old they had bathhouses down there. And Louis Robert used to take care of them, he had one arm, he was a colored man, and they were very nice. He, they were very nice. And I still have the bathing suit that I used to wear at Public Landing. Black mohair with little specs of white through it and, with edges with red through it. And this past year, I loaned that to a church group, a prayer group, to wear, in Pocomoke to wear, they have an old-time-show. And it was something old and it went back several years, and I loaned that to wear.
ALVIN: Okay, did you go swimming when you were in Pocomoke?
MARIE: Yes, I used to go in. I never could swim. But I went in. The bathing was just the same. I used to get dunked 'a plenty. But, uh, I went in.
ALVIN: Did your parents go swimming there?
MARIE: My, uh, father, but my mother never did. Dad and I would too, we always did. Mother didn't care too much for that water.
ALVIN: Could you tell me about some of your experiences there at fairgrounds in Pocomoke?
MARIE: I never went one time in my life to the fairgrounds in Pocomoke. And I guess I must have been, then, around sixteen years old and I just never went. I never, it never appealed to me. I, uh, my grandfather and grandmother Carver used to go just about every year. They had friends down there. They would go down and spent the day and spent the night. But I never cared for it. I never cared for it, for the one in Salisbury. They had a fair in Salisbury. I don’t think I ever…I know I never went to that one, but I did go once to Pocomoke. But I never cared for it.
ALVIN: Okay. Could you tell me about the race course they used to have in-?
MARIE: Right here in Snow Hill?
ALVIN: Yes.
MARIE: I learned to drive an automobile at that race course. Uh, yes, we used to have, it was the salty racing. Yes we used to have Mr. Windrow used to be very, very active in that and he and Mr. Hundeleas were both very active in that race track. I used to go out there, oh maybe…not very often, but every once in a while. But Dad, mother and I would go and we used to have a, uh, big, not ‘big big’… but we used to have a league baseball league camp in play in the elementary school. And that was the league and we have a nice league here. Randall Lanford was one of the players in this league. I can remember him well. And that…that lasted for quite a while and they had the bleachers bandit, was, they were very, very nice. We had nice bleachers. With the roof open, with the wide screen, we'd come, mm-hm. That was, that was the nice thing. I mean, it drew a lot of people in summertime. But I can remember Randall was being in one of them, uh, one of them...and Randall hasn't been there too many years but I can remember like Randall being, like one of the pros and uh, Gerald. No, I don’t know. I don’t think Gerald, I don’t think he did. And later I believe he did play on that team too. Near the last. Randall was one of the first ones.
ALVIN: Okay. Did you have any relatives in The Civil War?
MARIE: Not that I know of.
ALVIN: How about World War I?
MARIE: Yes, one of my uncles.
ALVIN: And World War II?
MARIE: No. No, um in the Civil, during the Civil War, my grandmother's oldest son was born. In the Civil War. I had one uncle that was in the Spanish Civil War. And he was at gunpoint and was blown up. But as it happened, he had surgery, and he was saved. And my mother never saw him, well until, I, my son was three years old when my uncle appeared and he had been gone for 51 years, the family thought he was dead. His mother died thinking he was dead. He went out West and, uh, after his wife and child died, he came back, and was married after the war. And he lost his wife, and his little daughter. And he was a barber and he went off to Baltimore and my grandfather and grandmother, at that time, grandmother, grandfather, Mr. James Potter, Sarah Potter, lived in Pocomoke at, uh, the um, what was that summer house? That's what. They lived at the summer house farm, and my mother's younger sister was born at the summer house farm. And that's when my uncle left, and came back home, after his wife died and that's where he left and went to Baltimore from there, out West. And he, my grandfather, grandmother…shortly after moved from the summer house farm to Snow Hill. And he kept sending the mail to Pocomoke. And it kept going back. It kept going back. And he did not know where they were. Or how to locate them. Well, he did very well, after he did move west, when he came to visit my mother, just one year after he had gone. He, um, had a hotel in St. Paul, Minnesota and he got his second wife with him, who was, he had not been married. I don't think they had been married (but) about twenty-five years, at that time, when he brought her through. And they came to Pocomoke. They couldn’t locate anybody there but, somebody…there was a cousin living there, but he couldn’t get in touch with him, and someone in Pocomoke said: "But I think there are Carters in Snow Hill". So, he hired a car and came to Snow Hill and went to a hotel and inquired, and they said: "Well there is a lady living in Snow Hill by the name of Mrs. Ben Carter.” So he got the type of man to take him to, then my Aunt's, and she said: "Well, you have a sister living here.". And he said: "Which one?". She said: "Harriet is living here." And, "she's married, and her name is Henley". So, my, he went back to the Hotel and called our mother and my mother said: "No, my brothers dead." And he said: "But I am your brother.". So, mother said: " Well, if you're my brother, then my husband will go get you, you need not stay at hotel.". And when he came he was his mother's son, really. You would have thought, if you would had ever known, you would have known, that she was…he was her son. And he stayed with us for a few weeks and then he went to go visit his other brother who lived in Salisbury at the time. And he had two sisters living at, over the, Heever’s. And he went to his sisters but came back and then he finished his stay at my mother's. He'd been gone 51 years. He owned a summer home up in, um, Minnesota. Outside, um, in one of the…on one of the lakes. And he wanted us to go up there, but, um, we never did go. Which was very sad. He passed away. He had a heart…he had a heart condition, and we, and that's why we didn't drive yet. Because they thought it'd be too much strain on him. So, his wife was one of the first people who insisted that he cut back, one of the first people, and she was in fact the one. But on the other side, on the Henley side, I don’t know what all was in there because we're related to some other people. We're related to Colonel Wise in Virginia, who had the big (undecipherable)…Victor Pete and we're related to The Scarborough’s, in Virginia. We're related to the Taylor's in Virginia. So, we've got loads of relations in um, Virginia but, uh, we don’t have too many on my mother's side. My grandfather was a policeman here for a number of years. And, um, my grandfather was one of the first fireman was in Snow Hill. For the Fire Company and it was mule (that) used to be the ones that pulled the fire wagon at that time. He lived in town. My grandfather used to ring in the bell. And he was supposed to move. He owned the property right next to the where I'm living now, where all his children grew up. Uh, the two, the three youngest ones grew up, um, over there, he, um, owned this farm, this beautiful farmhouse, and two nights before he was to move out, he'd asked the people that were renting it to move, and they were not tilling the land. He was tilling the land. He had asked them to move. And the house burned down to the ground. So, of course, he was in the sawmill business. Paul called Mr. William Jones, who is Paul Jones's senior, father…drove one of my grandfather’s lumber's cart because he married one of my grandfather’s sisters, Olympia. And when grandfather died. Well, grandfather had all this timber and everything, you see, that he had cut, all of and it was seasoned, and my grandfather built the new hall, next to where we live now, and after it was about half-finished, my grandmother refused to move, unless my mother would consent to move near her. And my grandfather said: "Well what limber is left from our home, can start the home, if Jerome will take the land.". So, my father bought the piece of land, which you know runs back to the wood, through the river, to the wood, through the river, to the river. And he bought the piece of land and our home was started then. And they moved in in 1904, August of 1904. Was when they moved in, was then. Of course it's been remodeled since then, so a lot of changes were made to it which have not been made to the house next door because my grandmother, after my grandfather died in 1910…he was run over by a lumber cart, and he started, having problems. He was one of the strongest men in Snow Hill, he could lift a barrel of whiskey off of the floor and swing it over the bar at the hotel. He was a very strong man, but he didn't look it. And he, um, owned another farm, at where, due north of where my grandfather owned that farm as well. And when grandmother died, I mean, grandfather died, grandmother lived there until 1921. Yeah, 21' then. Cos she was in there. She moved in town cos she had bought a home in there and she would be in town, but she sold the business to Uncle Will James and he wasn't a young man at all, but he bought it. At least half of that. Bought that grandmother's business. But he did not buy out the moving business cos my grandfather moved home. And anything you wanted moved, he could move, he moved it. And he did not buy that out, she sold that to someone else it but Uncle Bill done bought the lumber business out and then he went on. His grandmother couldn’t maintain…she maintained the farm with the help of some colored folk, then she sold that house.
ALVIN: Were your parents for or against progress?
MARIE: I would say for.
ALVIN: Could you tell me about some of your experiences during the depression?
MARIE: I don’t have anything to say about the depression. Well, my father had a salary that didn't stop. The company, and frankly I didn't see much difference. Didn't bother us at all. I can’t say that, uh, oh I do know that I lost some money from it, uh, we had in the bank, but the checking accounts you had-you know, lost a part of that. And at that time, I um, well, was lending water too, anyway, I guess during the depression. No, I don't know that it bothered me very much. No, I can't say the depression bothered me. And I know that it didn't bother my parents. Perhaps if my father hadn't had the job with the telephone company, you know, regular, it might have made a difference. But I can’t say that if bothered me very much...I see as a member many a Prichard come up much, I know that... I am the only one, whose living in the present time, in this neighborhood, the only one, every one of the older homes, out here, every one of them have caught...I mean the homes have been sold, two or three times. There were people that lived in them, people that were living in them, and I'm still the only one that lives in the home, the original home. And that means 78 years. So, you know there have been a lot of changes to this neighborhood... I remember when I was a child…when they had old Gene. I was in the sixth grade, at the time. And I remembered seeing Gene, the ol' Gene, screaming at the top of his voice, and Ms. Nerada, um, we had a substitute teacher and it had been, we had been at school at that time, and Mrs. Venerable, she had been in an automobile accident, but she later became Mrs. Werth, and she said: "I don’t know what's happened, but sit down". Everyone jumped up, and she said sit down, then later we found that Gene had killed his brother. And out on the Pocomoke Road and um, that way, of course everyone was so shocked that anything like that had ever happened. And I remember he took Mr. Harry Ishan, we hadn't had anything like that out of town, and Mr. Harry Ishan was the sheriff. And Mr. Harry Ishan had to go get him and bring him back for his trial. And when he, they got back in town, he handed Mr. Harry Ishan a selective, and they said: "Mr. Harry Ishan I had several opportunities to kid you, but you never did anything against me and you have been very, very nice to me and I just couldn’t do it" so he said: "Here, you take it.". And he had made it out of string, and I…he had a handle on it. And I remember they executed him, right here, on The Alms House wood. The Alms House was out here on this road and the moms that went by were just like ah, it wasn’t like anything…you would have thought they were going to a circus that, um- to kill a man! He was a very nice person, but he had an awful temper and for (that) he thought they had done home wrong. So naturally he had did what he did. And of course, nowadays, it’s for ‘all people’. When I was growing up, all those people, in those days, went to The Alms House. If your mind wasn't right, if you were retarded person like we have now, then you went to The Alms House, and I remember when Mr. and Mrs. West had that place out there, and people would go and carry them things, you know, they felt sorry for them. And you know, Mr. and Mrs. West were very, very good to all of them. And pitied them. And I can recall they had one that, um, any time anybody would act anything, he would say: "I've been looking for you. I knew you were 'a 'comin'.". And it was ever pathetic. But nowadays everybodys always on relief welfare. We don’t have anybody's benefits, that's all safe. Well we had that years ago, but it was a bad looking place.
ALVIN: Did your Dad do a lot of hunting when you were younger?
MARIE: Dad? No, Alvin, he didn't. He didn't do too much hunting, I think. He might go back into the field here, and we had rabbit traps. And my two uncles had ’coon traps, but they used to set up, over on the, next to the river, there. But Dad never did too much gunning. He had a gun. In fact, he had two guns, but now, but, um…Dad never did, he did quite a bit of fishing, more fishing than he did gunning. He did more fishing out of Ocean City. He used to do a lot of surf fishing. Surf fishing out of Ocean City. He liked to Surf-fish.
ALVIN: Could you tell me about some of the toys and games you played with when you were younger?
MARIE: Well, one of them was called, Tiddlywinks. We had Checkers, we had Dominos, we had a Fishing Well. It reminds me a lot of this, uh, land. Rough that we have now, the fish dip, they would curl up, and you'd had to land on the hook, we'd have those, uh, stain like that, uh, well…we didn't have Badminton but we had a little net that you had to used to bat a ball across at one time, and you can call it Badminton, then, cos it wasn't shudder. It was like a little, something similar to uh, ping-pong balls. They're a little bit heavier, we used to have just a small lil' net. You used to have just a small little net you used to have to bat that across. And then it came into tennis. But, later on, we had Skid Rowe. But that just the biggest thing of all, Skid Rowe. Playing tag. Something of that type... We used to have a lot of big bible studies, you know, in those days, Alvin. Everybody always had crabbing out of Wednesday, and then the Bible, and Psalm Fest. Then they call them meetings now, and really, now, everybody went and sang. The church was really, I would say, the biggest center, at, our…that time, more so that it is now... because it is was just a common thing, everybody. That was one of the places to go, and Sunday night started get ol' the church, was, I would say there was more people on Sunday- Sunday nighttime, than there was on Sunday morning. The church was pretty much the center of attraction at that time. Which, is, is certainly not now, but it was then. We had, well, we had festivals through the parties then in the church. We had a lot of parties in the church at that time, too, to go to. And that was that. But so, this was a way of living. It was more easy, even though we liked to say the work was harder, because everybody do everything with no…uh, clouds that were electric, no clouds that were electrified or gasoline-powered. Then everything was push and pull or, with a team pulling it. And uh, corn then was caught, and shucked, it wasn't puckered poke through. You had to uh, cut the shorn corn off the horn of it first. And that wasn't an easy job and then we went and cut the shucks off and that's what we pay with the team, the stalk in. Father, he, if I can remember us putting pumpkin in there, and watermelon in there. The stalks of father…and he will grow (the corn)…up to November and I remember doing that cos we always had a watermelon. Had (it) on the hill. Watermelon that was long, all of it, through that, they had remembered those. But, uh, Teaberry was another thing, on a Sunday afternoon there was a Pall Teaberry, about right. Everybody went Teaberrying, you go with sometimes a group, or maybe just two or three. But everybody would jolt through the woods for Teaberry. They were absolutely delicious. And I don’t know, I think the last time I went Teaberrying… I went with… I was a grown woman… I went with Mr. Will Braton, Mr. Sam Shockley, Mr. Cercu Collins, and Robert Shockley, myself. And we went Teaberrying. Over near St. Olive Church. Beautiful things. But I’ve had radioed of anybody when I said something and they said, they did, of the ones they’d ever seen interfered through the woods. I don’t know what happened. But if we’d been cut off, or something. At another, um, thing… of course Teaberrying in those days. Used to go hunting…were for… wedding sashay, which everybody took almost like a medicine. They claimed it purified the blood. It was spring, oh, the old family. Somebody had to go hunting for a red satchelish (sp?) root. That was palpable to the bite. Now I still have satchelish, and
I still use that. Cos, I had satchel root. And you’d eat it, pass, more as any favor, recently, in the past few years. But it does make a very, very nice drink. And it can be mixed with fruit. And it, uh, it gives it a little something different. It’s very flavorful. But that used to be, uh, quite, uh, a thing in those days, but no more. Like everything else, some things change. And I just wonder what it will be your later years (to interviewer). You’ve seen a lot of changes right now as a youngster. But I’m just wondering what it will be when you get to my age. What you would think? There’s no telling.
ALVIN: Yeah.
MARIE: I can recall back in 1920, like I said it was 1920. At the fair in Pocomoke they had an airplane, first one that’s ever come up over here. And it was… it circled around Snow Hill, it was really at the fair in Pocomoke and my grandmother was saying that was one of the first planes that came over. I can remember her saying… she was 72 years old at the time. She said: “My, how I would like to go up in one of those. But I guess I won’t live long enough.”. You know everybody’s commercial and I’ve often thought of it as many miles I’ve gone now in an airplane. They…what it looked like then, because I was teaching school, at the landing out here in the fields, at the landing… Forest Landing. And it wasn’t much time before many of the children were curious, you know, they, some of them had never seen a plane. And they were so curious to go see that airplane. And I have a car with a bumble seat, a Ford, for the model-T. And I…they were packed in there like sardines because they all wanted to go out to my old lane to see that airplane, cos we were a little late getting back to school. And Mr. Simmons, Professor Simmons thought it was terrible. And Mr. Simmons thought it was terrible cos I took them. I thought it was very educational that these children could see that airplane because I was quite sure that there was two, or three in the class that had never seen a plane. And probably would never get up to see one that close for many a day. And I didn’t feel badly about taking them at all. I felt real good about it. I didn’t pay any attention to what he said, I just walked off to the schoolroom and went right on into my class. I was about five minutes late and I didn’t figure that that, I had thought the children had really gained more than they had lost in their lesson. So I didn’t pay any attention. I was one of those kinds that wasn’t a little bit, uh, I wasn’t too intimidated by anything or anybody. I had my thoughts about it because I guess I was one of the first teachers on the shore that believed that you should teach type writing by music.
ALVIN: Well-
MARIE: And, uh, a lot of them did not. But I did, it was the rhythm that they needed. And I was one of the first ones that taught, uh, typing music. And I still think it’s the right thing. And they still do, they teach it down Pocomoke. A lotta the schools teach typing. The colleges teach typing by music. It gives it a flow. Well… is there anything else I can tell you?
ALVIN: I think we near covered everything.
Interview Ends