Dey be a big cotton patch where Plant City is now. I picked some
cotton dere, den I come to Tampa, an' atter a while I got a job nussin'
Mister Perry Wall's chillen. Cullud folks jes' mek out de bes' dey
could. Some of 'em lived in tents, till dey c'd cut logs an' build
houses wid stick-an'-dirt chimbleys.
Lotta folks ask me how I come to be called "Mama Duck." Dat be jes' a
devil-ment o' mine. I named my own se'f dat. One day when I be 'bout
twelve year old, I come home an' say, "Well, gran'mammy, here come yo'
li'l ducky home again." She hug me an' say, "Bress mah li'l ducky." Den
she keep on callin' me dat, an' when I growed up, folks jes' put de
"Mama" on.
I reckon I a heap bettah off dem days as I is now. Allus had sumpin t'
eat an' a place t' stay. No sech thing ez gittin' on a black list dem
days. Mighty hard on a pusson ol' az me not t' git no rashuns an' not
have no reg'lar job.
FEDERAL WRITERS' PROJECT
American Guide, (Negro Writers' Unit)
Pearl Randolph, Field Worker
Madison, Florida
January 30, 1937
WILLIS DUKES
Born in Brooks County, Georgia, 83 years ago on February 24th,
Willie[TR:?] Dukes jovially declares that he is "on the high road to
livin' a hund'ed years."
He was one of 40 slaves belonging to one John Dukes, who was only in
moderate circumstances.
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