McKissick, Mary (1901-1996) |
Worcester County Library: Local History and Genealogy Collection, Snow Hill Branch, Snow Hill, MD
|
Interviewee: |
Mary McKissick (1901-1996) |
| Interviewer: |
Karen Leitao |
| Date of interview: |
1982 April 21 |
| Length of interview: |
41 minutes |
| Transcribed by: |
Lisa Baylous |
| Preferred Citation: |
“Name, Oral History Collection, Date of Interview, Worcester County Library, Snow Hill Branch, Snow Hill, Maryland.” |
Topical Terms:
Education
Domestic Life
Stockton (Md.)—History
School
Transportation
Worcester County (Md.)—History
Worcester County (Md.)—Social life and customs
Worcester County (Md.)—Women’s History
Corporate Terms:
Stockton High School
Location Terms:
Pocomoke City (Md.)
Stockton (Md.)
BEGIN INTERVIEW:
INTERVIEWER: This is Karen Leitao interviewing Mary McKissick on April 21st, 1982. She lives at, Stockton, Maryland.
MARY: (unintelligible) people that were down in Chincoteague. MARY: (unintelligible) the Chincoteague Base closed (unintelligible). (unintelligible) (unintelligible) were taken care of. Missy said you were going to ask me some questions (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: Ok. Go ahead. Um…Um…What were your parent’s names?
MARY: Well, my father’s name was Cassius Jones. My mother was a Pilchard. Her name was Mary Elizabeth Pilchard.
INTERVIEWER: Are you related to the Pilchard’s (unintelligible) going back to Pocomoke?
MARY: Yeah. Mark, Mark Pilchard (unintelligible) is my cousin.
INTERVIEWER: Oh.
MARY: Uh huh.
INTERVIEWER: You’re related to a lot of people around here. Well, I come from…My parents are from New England, so…
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) Cassius Jones?
MARY: Yeah. C-A-S-S-I-U-S.
INTERVIEWER: K?
MARY: Cassius K. Jones.
INTERVIEWER: Alright. And your mother’s name—
MARY: My name, my mother’s name was Mary Elizabeth Pilchard…Jones.
INTERVIEWER: So, Pilchard was her maiden name?
MARY: Uh huh…Do you want something to write on?
INTERVIEWER: Just jotting a couple of things down…Um, did you have any brothers and sisters?
MARY: I had one sister. Lois Pilchard Jones.
INTERVIEWER: How do you spell that?
MARY: L-O-I-S.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm…Where did you live when you were growing up?
MARY: Well, I lived on a farm. (unintelligible) Well, it was on the way to Pocomoke, but, you know where the …Do you know where the Holland Nursing Home was?
INTERVIEWER: I don’t think so.
MARY: Well, you go in, as you go out of Stockton. The first, uh road to the left, you turn there, and I lived down on a farm—up that way. (Unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) Do you remember?
MARY: Well, it was Stockton Road.
INTERVIEWER: Stockton Road?
MARY: Yeah. Just a little country place.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm…What did your, um, parents do?
MARY: My father was a farmer. Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm. (Unintelligible) What chores did you have to do around the house?
MARY: Well, when I was growing up, we’d come home from school…On Friday night, my mother would say…Well, those days, you didn’t have electric sweepers, you know?
INTERVIEWER: Oh, yeah.
MARY: She’d say, “Now, I done the sweeping and you and Lois do the dusting.”
INTERVIEWER: Wow!
MARY: Well, it didn’t suit her well. But, we did it. And, we had to wash dishes. We stood on a box at the table with a dish towel and water, and washed dishes when we were little kids. We had to work.
INTERVIEWER: Yeah…Did you help your father?
MARY: No. I never, we never had to work out in the field.
INTERVIEWER: You didn’t?
MARY: No.
INTERVIEWER: All taken care of.
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: Um…So, did you, um, ever go in to Pocomoke?
MARY: Yes. We, well, we lived on that same road and in a different house, right? From where (unintelligible). And, we’d go to Pocomoke twice a year. That was a big event. We’d go in the spring and then in the fall. And my, my mother would buy us our spring and summer clothes and in the fall, fall and winter clothes. And that was before the Pocomoke Fire. And, uh, it was a big department store. That Dickenson’s Store. It’s where she got all our things. And, we’d drive the horse over to Pocomoke and put the horse in the livery stable. And, then, uh, we’d do our shopping. And, when we got through, the, uh, people at the livery stable would put the horse back with the carriage. And, my mother would buy us some cheese and some crackers and we’d eat on the way home, because there wasn’t a place to eat. They didn’t have restaurants over there like now.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) but she bought (unintelligible). So, you rode there on a carriage with horses?
MARY: Huh?
INTERVIEWER: You rode there on a carriage with horses?
MARY: Yeah.
INTERVIEWER: Oh.
MARY: Well, it was about a nine mile ride, but it was all day long. And you leave in the morning. A horse doesn’t go very fast.
INTERVIEWER: Yeah. Not as fast as cars. (Unintelligible) What else did you buy when you went to town? Was it just clothes?
MARY: Yeah. Just clothes. Mm hmm. I think, I don’t think my mother did any grocery shopping over there. You did the grocery shopping over here at Stockton. On Saturday night, my father would take a, a basket of eggs. And we always had a cow, and my mother would make butter. And, he’d take the eggs and the butter, like, to Stockton to the store, and buy the week’s groceries with the eggs and butter.
INTERVIEWER: Oh! So, he’d trade them?
MARY: Trade them. Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: What kinds of animals and (unintelligible) did you have?
MARY: Well, we always had a dog and a cat. And, (unintelligible) liked the gardening. When I was a little kid, my father always gave me a place in the garden that I could plant flowers.
INTERVIEWER: Uh, what kind of plants did he have? Vegetables and things?
MARY: Well, he had a little bit of everything. (Unintelligible) We always had a big garden. (Unintelligible) beans, cabbages, beets, and, you know, everything like that.
INTERVIEWER: We used to have gardens, but now, they don’t work too good where I live, I don’t think.
MARY: No. Not in that woods (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) what did you use for refrigeration?
MARY: We didn’t have any.
INTERVIEWER: You didn’t?
MARY: No. Those, those days, you built what you called “troughs.” Big wooden boxes, oh, about that long and about this wide. And, you put water in them. Cold water. And then, the milk (unintelligible) you put in these big crocks. And put it in the, uh, in these troughs to keep it—You could only keep it one day.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) you had to change the water?
MARY: (unintelligible) yeah. It would get sour. We didn’t (unintelligible) when we moved here in this house in, uh, well, about 1910, I think. And, we never had a refrigerator until we moved here. It was an icebox then. It, it was like a boxy thing with a lid on top and you get a big chunk of ice and you put it in there where you get your food.
INTERVIEWER: Hmm. Was there any special events in your childhood days that you really remember (unintelligible)?
MARY: Well, going to Red Hills on the first Wednesday in August was a big event.
INTERVIEWER: Oh, yeah? What did you do there?
MARY: Well, everybody, all the farmers around, went, went to Red Hills on the first Wednesday in August. And, my mother would do a lot of cooking, fry chicken. Well, in those days, of course, you didn’t have chicken, fried chicken all year ‘round. It was everybody’s pride to get chickens big enough to fry for the first Wednesday in August. And, we’d take watermelons and sweet potatoes and chicken. And, we, my father would take the horse to the carriage and my mother and my sister and I would get all dressed up. And, in those days, the roads were dusty and all. They were just dirt roads. And, we wore what they called “Dusters.” It was like a linen coat, but, you wore that on top of your, of your dress. And, these, uh, we’d go to Red Hills and ride through this woods road. And the mosquitoes would almost eat you up!
INTERVIEWER: I know! (Unintelligible)
MARY: And then, when we get around to Red Hills, around noontime, all, all the friends and neighbors and all, they would get together, put their lunch on the, on the ground, on a blanket and then a tablecloth over it. And, sit on the ground and eat lunch.
INTERVIEWER: Wow! Everybody went there?
MARY: Yeah. Everybody went there. The first Wednesday in August. It was a big event. And, it was on the bay. And, uh, my mother always took extra clo—extra dresses for my sister and I, and, uh, they were nicer than what we wore in the morning. They were really dressy-up dresses. And, she would change our dresses and put these dressy-up dresses on. And, uh, we had our hair (unintelligible). And, we walked up through the pines. And, well, it’s up the hill. That’s the reason it was called “Red Hills.” But, it was a lot of pine trees. And that was a big event.
INTERVIEWER: Wow! That sounds nice! I wish we had something like that today. Everybody getting together (unintelligible).
MARY: Yeah. Well, years ago, farmers did get together. They did a lot of it (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: Where did you go to school?
MARY: Stockton. It was Stockton High School, then. Of course, it’s not there (unintelligible). It’s been torn down.
INTERVIEWER: Yeah. I was gonna say…
MARY: Mm hmm. But, I graduated from Stockton High School in 1919.
INTERVIEWER: Hmm. Well, how many people went to your school?
MARY: Well, those days, you had, of course, there were, I don’t know how many people in there. That’s elementary school. But, it wasn’t a big school. But, you had to have a quota of thirty-five people in the high school. To keep your high school status. And, it was always (unintelligible) to have thirty-five people in high school.
INTERVIEWER: Yeah.
MARY: But, we always did.
INTERVIEWER: Ok. (Unintelligible)
MARY: (unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: Separated to grades (unintelligible)?
MARY: (unintelligible) there was only eleven grades, then. You graduated in the eleventh grade.
INTERVIEWER: Oh! I’d be graduating this year, then! Hm!
MARY: But, we had a good time in school. There were nine in my class in high school, when we graduated from high school.
INTERVIEWER: Do you remember any of your teachers names?
MARY: Yes. My teachers, my first teacher was Miss Hattie (unintelligible), and my second teacher was Miss Lanny Davis (unintelligible). Miss Hattie (unintelligible) was my teacher in the first and second grade. And, Miss Lanny Davis was, uh, the third and fourth grade. But, I couldn’t remember any teacher’s names after that. One of my friends was here the other day and she said our teacher’s name was (unintelligible) Maddox. And, then, uh, (unintelligible) the fifth and sixth (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) two grades?
MARY: Huh? (Unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) for two years.
MARY: And I think it was the seventh grade, uh, Miss Mary Holland came here. And, she was our teacher for two years. And, then, we went in high school. And, Miss (unintelligible) Taylor was our teacher, and, um, uh, Miss (unintelligible). And Professor John S. Hill was the principal.
INTERVIEWER: Hmm…How disciplined was your school? What was it like?
MARY: Well, it was really strict until Miss Holland came (unintelligible), but she couldn’t keep discipline at all. And, there were fellas, you know, around fourteen, fifteen, sixteen years old, (unintelligible). And, she couldn’t, she couldn’t manage them at all. They gave her a hard time.
INTERVIEWER: How was the principal? Was he (unintelligible)?
MARY: Oh, he was strict. He was strict. (Unintelligible) I don’t think Miss Holland (unintelligible). She was too easy on everybody.
INTERVIEWER: What did you do (unintelligible)? Was it like special gatherings? Like, did everybody (unintelligible)?
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: Were there any sports or anything? (Unintelligible)
MARY: Yes. We had baseball (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) you didn’t have any people on the team.
MARY: Right. The, uh, baseball was a big thing in those days…(unintelligible) all this I’m saying?
INTERVIEWER: Yes. (LAUGHTER) (Unintelligible) um, what did you do for fun? Did you like to go ice skating or—
MARY: No. My father would never let me go ice skating. He was always afraid the ice was going to break (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: I know the (unintelligible).
MARY: Uh huh. But, he would never let us go ice skating. But, I had a lot of friends that would come here after school. And, we had a cow. And Elizabeth Taylor, a friend of mine, always said, “I wish I could milk that cow.” It pleased my father when she’d come. He wouldn’t have to do it, you know, if he finished work at night. And, we’d play ball. We had a barn back there, now. We used to jump down from the barn loft on a pile of straw. Ah, I remember one time I did it and I turned my ankle and I was afraid to tell my mother about it because she, she didn’t want me doing it. But, (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm. I’ll bet that hurt…Did you like court, courting, dating?
MARY: Well, not, not too much.
INTERVIEWER: Well, I didn’t know if people were in a group—
MARY: Yeah. But, we went in groups. Ah, we went, we went to church every Sunday and we had a young minister here from 1917-1919. He was young and unmarried. And, all the girls liked him. And, uh, we all went around together and had a good time. And Bay Parties. Right down there by George Island Landing, and had picnics down there.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm. Did you go swimming?
MARY: Well, not very much because you couldn’t swim down this way. It’s a muddy bottom. But, when we would hold bay parties, somebody would take us out on a boat at Colonel’s Point and it’s a sandy bottom there to go bathing.
INTERVIEWER: Oh!...Was there a special place in town where everybody met and (unintelligible)?
MARY: No.
INTERVIEWER: Like, people (unintelligible).
MARY: Well, there was a place up on the corner of town, but mostly boys went there to get their ice cream. They sold ice cream, you know, candy, and things like that. But, the girls did go much (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: That, I can remember. I know I never went.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm…Was there music at your school?
MARY: (unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: I know, at Pocomoke, they had a lot of musicals.
MARY: Music wasn’t part of school. Not in my day.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) play any instruments or anything? (Unintelligible)
MARY: No. Well, some of the girls I went with, we’d play the piano. Now, on Sunday afternoons, a crowd of girls around my age, would always get together, and we would go for a walk. And then, mostly, down the railroad track. There was a railroad here then. And then, we’d go back to some, somebody’s house and play the piano and (unintelligible). We’d play the piano, or Elizabeth Taylor was the only one then, and we’d stand around and sing all afternoon and have a good time.
INTERVIEWER: Uh huh. Was there singing in the church?
MARY: Mm hmm. There was singing in the church.
INTERVIEWER: What kind of church was it?
MARY: Methodist.
INTERVIEWER: Methodist…How long did you go to church? How long was church, usually? Was it, like, an hour like it is, now?
MARY: Well, I think it was (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: It might have been an hour, hour and a half. But, uh…
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: It’s just like it is, now. Although, those days, the church was full of people. (Unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: I don’t know where you go. Do you go to church?
INTERVIEWER: Yeah. I go to Catholic Church in Pocomoke. Mm hmm.
MARY: Oh, do you?
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) it’s a pretty good crowd, but, there used to be a lot of people. But—
MARY: People don’t go to church much, now. (Unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: No…Do you happen to know how Pocomoke got its name? I know you lived in Stockton.
MARY: (unintelligible) No, no, I don’t. Stockton used to be called Sandy Hill years ago. I don’t remember when that was, but, I heard my grandmother say it was called Sandy Hill.
INTERVIEWER: Oh. Hmm. I wonder why they called it that.
MARY: I don’t know.
INTERVIEWER: Any hills around here? (LAUGHTER)
MARY: No.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)…Were there any class distinctions, like upper class or lower class? Was everybody about the same?
MARY: No. Really just the same. I mean, of course, we didn’t have black (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: (unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: They’re ok. They know it. (Unintelligible) What was the population of the town?
MARY: Hard to say. (Unintelligible) three hundred (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: What is it now?
MARY: Well, now, I guess years ago, it was (unintelligible) than that. To tell you the truth, (unintelligible) it’s around six hundred, years ago. And now, I don’t know. Maybe two hundred. I don’t know if there’s that many or not.
INTERVIEWER: Hmm. I know it’s so small.
MARY: Yes.
INTERVIEWER: Down in Pocomoke (unintelligible). Um, describe the police force and how, why (unintelligible). Were there any?
MARY: They had a sheriff (unintelligible). But, I don’t remember anything about it, you know.
INTERVIEWER: Oh. I guess it was a small town.
MARY: Well, I guess there were things that happened here, but I don’t really remember (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) What kind, did you ever…Where is the railroad that you were talking about?
MARY: (unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: What?
MARY: Did you pass the Methodist Church coming down here, on the left? Did you notice that? That’s where I go to church.
INTERVIEWER: Oh.
MARY: Well—
INTERVIEWER: Was it on this road?
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: Well, then, I probably saw it. I’ll look at it when I go home.
MARY: Well, when you go home, um, you’ll go past an old brick building on the right, which used to be the bank. And, right just passed that bank, was the railroad (unintelligible) was the railroad track. (unintelligible) a station there. (Unintelligible) the station was called Hursley Station.
INTERVIEWER: Where did that train go? Just all around?
MARY: Well, the end of the line was down at Franklin City, down this way. About three miles. But, of course, it went to, uh, well, it would go all the way to Philadelphia. But, you, when you got to Harrington, you’d change cars. It went the rest of the way to Philadelphia. That’s as far as (unintelligible) Harrington. That’s as far as it went. Ah, then you took (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: Did you ever ride it?
MARY: Oh, my! Yes! After I graduated from high school, I went to Philadelphia to go to college, and, uh, that’s the only way I had to go in town was by the train.
INTERVIEWER: Where did you go to college?
MARY: I went to Peirce School of Business Administration in Philadelphia.
INTERVIEWER: Hmm. Not many girls used to go to college (unintelligible).
MARY: Well, they did around here. Mm hmm. (Unintelligible) boys, too.
INTERVIEWER: I heard more boys did than girls.
MARY: Mm hmm. One of the boys in my class, Dr. Randolph (unintelligible), he’s dead now, but, he was a big doctor at (unintelligible) Hospital.
INTERVIEWER: Oh! How long did it usually take to where you went to college in Philadelphia?
MARY: Do you mean from here?
INTERVIEWER: Uh huh.
MARY: Well, it took about six hours on the train. But, I lived with a cousin in Philadelphia. And then, I had to take the trolley car from where she lived into Philadelphia to go to school. And, I commuted every day.
INTERVIEWER: Hmm. How far was that (unintelligible)?
MARY: From her home, well, it would take, I guess, about forty minutes to go from trolley car from her home to the school.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm. There weren’t any trolley cars around here?
MARY: Oh, no. (Unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: Did you ever go on a steamboat?
MARY: No.
INTERVIEWER: Where were they (unintelligible) around on the bay?
MARY: Well, they were mostly on the river. Pocomoke River. I think there was a steamboat that ran from Baltimore, back and forth, to Pocomoke. From Baltimore to Pocomoke.
INTERVIEWER: Wow!
MARY: But, I never did get on one.
INTERVIEWER: So, did you say you had a horse and wagon?
MARY: Mm hmm. We had a, we had a…Well, we had, my father had a mule, see. Two mules. In those days, you didn’t have tractors like they have now.
INTERVIEWER: Yeah. So, the farming (unintelligible)?
MARY: (unintelligible) and cows, and they had plows and (unintelligible) and they put these mules in things. Well, the farmer that tends my land, now, Dick Ward, can plow and disc the whole field in about two hours and it used to take my father two or three weeks to plow up the field with mules. Had to walk in back, you know, by foot, in back of the mules. (unintelligible) Of course, it was hard work.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm. All this? That land back there?
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) Um, could you describe your first car, and how you learned how to drive?
MARY: Yes. Well, the first car we got was in 1920. That year, white potatoes sold for $10 a barrel.
INTERVIEWER: They were (unintelligible).
MARY: (unintelligible) those days. Taken up to this railroad station and put it on the train and take it to Philadelphia and (unintelligible), you know, (unintelligible). And that year, my father got $10 a barrel for potatoes. And we got our first car. It was a Maxwell.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm. How much was it?
MARY: Well, I don’t know. I guess about a thousand dollars, but, I don’t remember exactly. (unintelligible) that much. And, of course, maybe you’ve heard that Jack Benny, when he was, you know, in his, uh, prime, he always was joking about his Maxwell car. Well, this was a nice-looking car, but, it never, you couldn’t keep the brakes on it. My, when you started out from home, (unintelligible) going to stop (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: Oh, no!
MARY: (unintelligible) where you were going. But, then, the next car Father got was a Ford. Of course, I wasn’t home, then.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm. Did you ever drive?
MARY: Oh, yes! I learned how to drive on that (unintelligible) Maxwell. And, a man here from Stockton, Mr. Charlie Ward, taught me how to drive.
INTERVIEWER: How did you do at first?
MARY: Well, I, I don’t remember, exactly. But, we went out…At that time, there was a stone road between here and, and, uh, Pocomoke. And, he took me on the dirt roads and the real sandy roads with ruts that deep.
INTERVIEWER: Oh, no!
MARY: When you get in them, you don’t know…You know, it was a good experience.
INTERVIEWER: Yeah, I guess so.
MARY: And, uh, he taught me how to drive. And then, when I got to Philadelphia, my cousin that I lived with…Well, I guess I was there for a couple of years before they got a car. And, I knew how to drive, but my cousin didn’t. And, at that time, in Philadelphia—in Pennsylvania, you didn’t have to take a driving test. You just went to an automobile club and gave them a dollar and they gave you your license.
INTERVIEWER: Wow! So, it didn’t matter (unintelligible)?
MARY: I taught, I taught him how to drive…In Philadelphia. Of course, traffic wasn’t like it is now, either. I think I’d be afraid to drive in Philadelphia, now.
INTERVIEWER: I know! If you were, um, sick and you, if you couldn’t go to the doctor, what did you do? Was there a doctor in town (unintelligible)?
MARY: There was a doctor in town. He lived on that road going towards Snow Hill. Doctor Dickerson. And, he came to the house. But, somebody always had to go get him. I mean, go tell him. Of course, he had his own conveyance (unintelligible). Years ago, he had a horse and carriage. And, I think he had the first automobile in Stockton. ‘Cause I know, it was in his automobile that I, that I first took my first ride. We were going home from school one day, and, uh, he came along in his automobile and asked us to get in. (Unintelligible) ride in his automobile.
INTERVIEWER: That was really different.
MARY: Much.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: And at that time, the doctor only charged, uh, about a dollar and a half to come to the house, you know, because you was sick.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm. Do you know any tales or superstitions about the Pocomoke River or the Forest or Red Hills or anything like that?
MARY: Huh uh. No. I don’t think I do.
INTERVIEWER: What were the, um, do you know of any (unintelligible) the Depression? Like, did it hit real hard on people around here?
MARY: Well, see, I guess it did around here, but, I was, uh, I had gone to…See, I left here in 1919.
INTERVIEWER: Oh, that’s right.
MARY: (unintelligible) Well, I was working then and we really had a Depression, the people that I worked for. (unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: What did you do?
MARY: I worked in the wholesale food and produce commission line. The farmers would bring their produce to the, to the place, to the store. It was a big, a great big, like a warehouse. And, uh, we sold their produce and charged them ten percent commission per sale.
INTERVIEWER: Hmm. (unintelligible)
MARY: (unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm.
MARY: (unintelligible) that’s not in existence now. That’s gone. But, I worked on that—
INTERVIEWER: After you got out of college?
MARY: Mm hmm. Um, I worked as a bookkeeper at, uh, one of the farms for thirty-four years.
INTERVIEWER: Hm. Did you work up there?
MARY: Mm hmm. (Unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: I lived up to (unintelligible). Then, in 1940, I got married. (Unintelligible) ’41 I got married. I haven’t married all those years and, uh, met somebody there. (Unintelligible) married. And then, we lived in Wayne, Pennsylvania. That’s a suburb of Philadelphia. And, uh, my husband and I lived there (unintelligible) nineteen…He died in 1971. And then my sister still lived down here in this house. This is where I grew up. And, my mother and father had both died. So then, I came down here to live with her after my husband died—in 1972.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm. How, how much older were you than your sister?
MARY: eighteen months younger than I.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: She had polio when she was a child. She was eleven years old. I don’t know if it was nine or eleven. But, uh, she was, her right leg, it, she lost the use of this muscle here. On the knee cap. And, uh, she had two or three operations. She got so that she could walk with just a cane because she could never bend her leg, you know. But, she did pretty good. In 1959, she fell and broke her hip. And, uh, broke her good hip (unintelligible). And the doctor (unintelligible). At that time, she was fifty-seven years old. But, after a year, he let her put her weight on her, on her leg. And, uh, she started to walk again with a crutch and a cane. After my mother and father died, she lived here alone for eight years.
INTERVIEWER: Oh. And then you moved down here—
MARY: Then I moved down here with her in 1972, and she died in ’74. So, I’ve been here alone since then. But, this is where I grew up and (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm…What kinds of things did your father grow on his farm?
MARY: Mostly potatoes.
INTERVIEWER: Potatoes? (Unintelligible)
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: Did he have eggs? Did he have—?
MARY: We had chickens. Me and my mother raised chickens. And, uh, we always had pigs and butchered the pigs and had our own meat. And, uh, we raised ducks and turkeys. All those things.
INTERVIEWER: All those things (unintelligible). Did most people around here have farms?
MARY: Uh huh.
INTERVIEWER: Or did most of (unintelligible)?
MARY: Well, this house wasn’t really a farm, but, there was a house over here, but they were older people. Now, he was a Civil War veteran that lived in that house. But, uh, (unintelligible) young and old that lived around. Everybody was friendly. Some, a lot of people worked at the bay around here, at George Island Landing.
INTERVIEWER: How far is that from here?
MARY: Two miles.
INTERVIEWER: Oh! I didn’t know it was so close!
MARY: Mm hmm. It’s nice down there. Years ago, there, there was a, a lot of oyster houses down there. Oyster business was a thriving business. Of course, all those people have died, and—And then, we had a hurricane down here. I think it was in the ‘30’s. And most of the houses were destroyed.
INTERVIEWER: Oh, really?
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: Hm. Were there any other kinds of storms?
MARY: Huh?
INTERVIEWER: Any other kinds of storms or anything (unintelligible)?
MARY: Well, I don’t remember. Of course, I wasn’t here.
INTERVIEWER: Yeah. That’s right.
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: You were gone for a while.
MARY: We used to have big thunderstorms.
INTERVIEWER: Yeah.
MARY: In the summer, like we do, now.
INTERVIEWER: They scare me.
LONG PAUSE
MARY: I don’t understand what this is going to do (unintelligible).
INTERVIEWER: Well, they’re gonna keep all those tapes that we make on file at the library (unintelligible). Did you know anything about Public Landing? Did you ever go there?
MARY: No. We never went…Well, we went there, I think, a few times when we were kids. But, see, we, at that time, around 1919, and (after) that time, we didn’t have anywhere to go except for horse and carriage. And, we lived on a…There was a big day at Public Landing, I think. I think it was, uh, maybe the first Thursday in August or something like that. But, we never did go to that.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm. How old were you when you left?
MARY: eighteen.
INTERVIEWER: Eighteen. So, when is your birthday?
MARY: (June thirtieth), 1901. I’ve been here a long time! I don’t feel like I’m that old, though.
INTERVIEWER: No! You don’t look it! Do you remember Farmer’s Day or Forester’s Day?
MARY: Hmm mm.
INTERVIEWER: I don’t really know it, myself.
MARY: (unintelligible) I think there was such a thing, but, I don’t remember. Well, I guess Farmer’s Day was probably (unintelligible). That’s what where that was.
INTERVIEWER: Yeah. (Unintelligible)
MARY: (unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: I have something (unintelligible) about Jake. Do you know anything about that? (Unintelligible) I just, that was the paper she gave (unintelligible).
MARY: Jake?
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm.
MARY: What else does it say?
INTERVIEWER: That’s all it says.
MARY: Well—
INTERVIEWER: I don’t really know what it is.
MARY: Well, there, there was a fella here that lived here in Stockton named Jake Hudson, and he was a mail carrier for a number of years. Now, I don’t know if that’s what she means or not. (Unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: His name was Jake Hudson.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm. So, mainly, you just went to school. Did you go, um, Monday through Friday?
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) school (unintelligible). You went. Friday night, you did your chores.
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: Saturday night (unintelligible).
MARY: (unintelligible) Every Saturday, too, we, of course, we didn’t have electricity. We had to clean the, to clean the lamps. We just had oil lamps. We had to clean the lamp chimneys and put oil in the lamps and trim the wicks, you know. And I had to churn the cream. At that time, we had stairs, we had a back stairs in here. And, my sister and I used to sit on those back stairs steps, and, uh, my mother would put the cream in it…Well, I’ll show you the crock that, that we had. I don’t have the rest of it, but, uh… This is what she put the cream in.
INTERVIEWER: Oh!
MARY: This crock. And then, there was a wooden thing that went over the top. And then, it was like a paddle thing that went up and down, you know. And, uh churned that butter. And, my sister and I used to take turns doing that. Me and my mother would brick the butter, then my father would take it to the (unintelligible) had customers that were around that wanted to buy the butter. That was a good, big thing…country butter.
INTERVIEWER: Hmm. So, you had a lot of fresh things.
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: Unlike today. You have to go to the store to buy everything.
MARY: (unintelligible) we killed our own hogs and (unintelligible) smoke house out here. Cut the meat up and like the hams and the shoulders. And, build a fire in there in an old stove or a big tub and shut the place up tight. You used hickory wood. It smoked the—house up. (Unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: Hmm. It must have been nice.
MARY: It was. It was good. Made sausage, you know. And scrapple.
INTERVIEWER: Mm. I love it! So, this is, you were born on that road down there--?
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: Then, this is where you—
MARY: Well, I lived—
INTERVIEWER: When you came back.
MARY: I lived, at one time, I lived down the road in the house on the right. Just back in the field a little bit. But, we lived there for three years before we moved here. My father just rented that land, but then he bought this.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible) this house wasn’t built when you—
MARY: Oh, yeah. I think this house, uh, was build, uh…Well, I don’t know, exactly. I’d like to find out. The house over there was built in 1896. And, we don’t know whether that house is older than this, or not. I think this is an older house than that.
INTERVIEWER: It doesn’t look so old.
MARY: Mm hmm. Of course, it’s (unintelligible) a, a lot of renovations. And, well taken care of. Well, it was built back in the 1890’s, I imagine, some time.
INTERVIEWER: Held up all this time (unintelligible).
MARY: One of the better houses than are built now.
INTERVIEWER: Yeah. I know!
MARY: We had a big barn in the back, too. I had that torn down when I came down here (unintelligible). It needed a new roof and a lot of wood rotted, so (unintelligible) need the barn.
INTERVIEWER: Uh huh. Were you still renting this farm back (unintelligible)?
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: Is that the man? Richard Ward?
MARY: Mm hmm.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: (unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: Huh…I don’t (know) anything else on here, but—
(LAUGHTER)
INTERVIEWER: I loved talking to you. It was nice.
MARY: Well, I don’t know what else to tell you. Of course, I, I have a lot of memories.
INTERVIEWER: Uh huh (unintelligible).
MARY: Been here a long time…We used to have Bay Parties. Has anybody told you about picnics we had down at George Island Landing? Well, in the summertime, we used to have picnics down there. And, the families would get together. And, of course, those days, we didn’t have automobiles. And, a lot of times, my father would put the mules to the wagon, and he’d put sideboards on the wagon, and take whoever didn’t have a way down to George Island Landing. We’d take a picnic—fried chicken, potato salad, and all that. And then, a lot of times, the women would make clam chowder. We’d have that for lunch. You’d cook that on a three-burner oil stove. And then, the, uh, men would go out fishing. And, if they caught any fish, they’d clean the fish and we’d have fried fish for supper. And then, my uncle, Carl Hudson, had his boat. And he would take us, the ones that wanted to go out on the boat, and he’d take us out to (unintelligible) to go bathing.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: (unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: Yeah. Hmm. So different when you didn’t have any electricity then, but still, you didn’t just (unintelligible).
MARY: (unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: We got a small one (unintelligible)…But, still, you made out just fine without electricity.
MARY: Yeah, sure. And, of course, people are going back to that time, right now. I mean, not to the house, but, you know. I’ve heard my grandmother Jones say that even before they had lamps very much, she used to knit by candlelight. Sit by the fire and knit by candlelight.
INTERVIEWER: Hmm. That’s nice. I like candles.
MARY: You know, (unintelligible) I wonder, in the next fifty years, what it will be like.
INTERVIEWER: I know.
MARY: We think we have everything, now, but, you know…
INTERVIEWER: I’ll be…Fifty years from now, we’ll say we didn’t have anything (unintelligible).
MARY: That’s right. They’ll be saying, “My, those poor people!”
INTERVIEWER: I know!
MARY: “In nineteen hundred and eight-two! My, it must have been awful!”
INTERVIEWER: I know! We’re doing this.
MARY: Yeah.
INTERVIEWER: I wish I could live back then. Things were (unintelligible).
MARY: Of course, people are going back to burning wood, you know. Like years ago.
INTERVIEWER: Yeah, I know. (Unintelligible)
MARY: That’s what, that’s what we burned, but, now, that’s not for me. I (unintelligible) that.
INTERVIEWER: I know. I can, we have, you know, a fireplace. But, we don’t (unintelligible). A lot of people have woodstoves.
MARY: Yeah. (Unintelligible) A lot of people having fires, too.
INTERVIEWER: Mm hmm. Do you remember anything about the fire in Pocomoke?
MARY: (unintelligible)
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: Stockton burned down in 1906.
INTERVIEWER: (unintelligible)
MARY: But, uh, (unintelligible). But, I can remember was the hotel in Stockton in my time. But, I think there were two hotels before that. But, uh, see, I was only five years old when Stockton burned down. I don’t remember. I just remember, you know, them talk about it. But, we lived out in the country and (unintelligible). I don’t even know what it looked like after it was all burned down.
INTERVIEWER: Sure. So, it must have, the town must have been pretty big (unintelligible)—
MARY: Yeah it was.
INTERVIEWER: --to have two hotels. Do you know why the decrease of the population?
MARY: Well,
INTERVIEWER: People just moving (unintelligible)?
MARY: On the account of (unintelligible). You got that on there?
INTERVIEWER: I don’t have to. Do you want (unintelligible)?
MARY: No. Turn it off.
INTERVIEWER: Ok.
END OF INTERVIEW