American Folklife Center, Library of Congress Alan Lomax Collection (AFC 2004/004) folder 02.02.05 writings, books Rainbow Sign transcripts, Reverend Roe Where is the story of the brakeman's wife? Intro - a couple of pages about preaching - Chap. I. Birth place Had to work hard - poverty - hunger Parents - obedience to - Father's story - grandfather, should have been born white - Mother's story is slavery Freedom - the joyfulest time Negro voting - Pa [Herollers?] (horror stories) Conditions in the country. Chap. II. Recreation - Courting - Fighting - Gets drunk Seeks religion [*Education (learns sunedies? from mother*] Jack stories First year of words for himself [Chap - Leaves house Adventures Becomes minister Marriage 1st First games a minister] [Chap - Oy kinds of [????] The M's life [???? ministers. women trouble Family Pay - How to run a revival] Clegs - Folls medicine Caujune Finding things] [*Chap. The race problem Family loses farm Resistand & resignation Rye KO] [*R.5. p4- Risk my life for a little black land*] Flower garden No predjudice [*Blessed are pure in heart Heaven*] [3 Women tempt minister Trouble in church Trouble with Devil's preacher A preacher must lead the people by example. That's how to run a revival Must preach Hell Sins of dancing, etc.. Friction in church Preacher must rule.] REVEREND ROE. TABLE OF CONTENTS Reel 1 - P. 1. Where born Parents. Learned to read Farmed Father buys farm Working with the plow Reel 1 - P. 2. Hog claim First time we ate all the meat we wanted Hungry Had to work all the time as children Reel 1 - P. 3. Pay for farm. No education Gets drunk at 17 Fight Reel 1 - P. 4. A moral boy Seeking religion First year of work for himself [Reel 1 - P. 5. Leaves home] [ Kansas - the Dalton boys] [Reel 1 - P. 6. Back home - then leaves] [ Sherman] [ Oklahoma] [ Marries] [Reel 2 - - P. 1. First sermon] [ Best preacher] CONTENTS -- 2 -- Reel 2.- p. 2. Vision Reel 2 - p. 3. First revival Holy Spirit inspires sermons Reel 2 - p .4. Itinerant preaching Hard times as a preacher Reel 2 - p. 5. Sunday school missionary Dream about establishment of church Reel 2 - p. 6. The church succeeds Reel 3 - p. 1. Changes Methodist to Baptists Man can be too highly educated to preach Essence of Christianity is love God scattered the people Reel 3 - p. 2. Knowledge from reading the Gospel [*reading the Bible by firelight*] Holy Spirit talks through the Bible Reel 3 - p. 3. Reading the Bible Reel 3 - p. 4. Negro minister emotional You seem to get fired up Reel 3 - p. 5. Spirit of God makes you drunk Spirit of God brought Reverend Roe a long way Reel 3 - p. 6. Learning to read - education White accept him CONTENTS -- 3 -- Reel 4 - p. 1. Family driven off the farm Whites whip sister Reel 4. - p. 2. It was valuable land Hates whites Reel 4 - p. 3. Boy's ears are cut off Treated him worse than a dog Cut another boy's tongue off Reel 4 - p. 4. He was thirteen Keep the nigger down God would make a way some day The boy's father was watched Resistance? -- Resignation? Reel 4 - p. 5. Fight legally Whites now more courteous Blessed are the pure in heart Reel 4 - p. 6. God made us all Reel 5 - p. 1. Humanity a beautiful bouquet The flowers I should have been born white Reel 5 - p. 2. Grandmother a mistress to a white ma She leaves him Reel 5 - p. 3. Father - mathematician How many crossties to New Orleans? White grandfather part Irish Whites have Negro mistresses Reel 5 - p. 4. Whites recognize Negro kinfolks Patterollers CONTENTS -- 4 -- Reel 5 - p. 5. Negro voters All Republicans Reel 5 - p. 6. Voting (cont'd) Reel 6 - p. 1. Revival (SEE FOLLOWING PAGE, PLEASE) Contents --5-- Reel 6 - p. 1. Revival How to run a revival Reel 6 - p. 2. Sacrificial week Reel 6 - p. 3. Christ key to revival Reel 6 -p. 4. Shouting-why? Reel 6 - p. 5. Shouting Reel 7 - p. 1. His song and how he composed it Reel 7 - p. 2. How much people in church are paid Reel 7 - p. 3. Minister's pay Owns his own home Reel 7 - p. 4. His children and grandchildren His marriage Reel 7 - p. 5. Lives away from her Reel 8 - p. 1. Preacher never gets to stay with his family Preacher's sons are rebellious Boys not afraid of their mother Reel 8 - p. 2. Father ruled in his home Saturday night was a big time Games Reel 8 - p. 3. Ring plays Churched for dancing Reel 8 - p. 4. Dancing is sinful because it tempts a man Sinful pleasures Reel 8 - p. 5. Movies bad influence Friction in church Reel 8 - p. 6. Preacher must rule the church CONTENTS -- 6 -- Reel 9 - p. 1. Different types of preachers Evidence that God had marked him for the ministry Reel 9 - p. 2. Preachers are tempted Reel 9 - p. 3. Women interested in preachers Reel 9 - p. 4. Women will work against you if you trun them down A woman accuses him to/the church Reel 9 - p. 5. Another accusation Reel 10- p. 1. Don't use Mouner's bench Difference between Denominations are foolish [*insert*] Reel 10- p. 2. Hell should be preached Devil Reel 10- p. 3. Trust in God and your difficulties will disappear White folks justice Unequal opportunities Reel 10- p. 4. Negroes should have good zosnes Bad gravel in the street Reel 11- p. 1. Mother part Indian -- was a granny Her father from Africa -- story of herffamily in slavery Reel 11- p. 2. His mother's remedies Reel 11 - p. 3. Roe is poisoned Mother gives him remedy Reel 11- p. 4. Roe cures people Reel 12- p. 1. Another cure -- compounds -- the conjurors Reel 12- p. 2. Conjuring Mother cures a case of strychnine poisoning CONTENTS --7-- Reel 12- p. 3. Conjure People have stopped believing in conjure Reel 12- p. 4. Woman who can find things [Reel 12- p. 5. Trouble in church -- false accusation by a rival preacher] [Reel 13- p. 1. More false accusations] [Reel 13- p. 2. The white boss intervenes] Reel 13- p. 3. Preaches non-resistance Reel 13- p. 4. Preaching to white folks The doctrine [Reel 13-p. 5. What heaven will be like -- the just will judge the unjust Reverend Roe is above prejudice] Reel 14- p. 1. Roe best fighter in his community when he was a boy Whites accept him Reel 14- p. 2. Courting in the country -- the girls liked me Girl dies of love for him Reel 14- p. 3. No promiscuity Reel 14- p. 4. The old folks' brogue Old stories [Reel 14- p. 5. The blacksmith and the devil] [Reel 15- p. 1. Blacksmith and the devil (cont'd)] [Reel 15- p. 2. Bluebeard] [Reel 15- p. 4. Gallymanders] CONTENTS -- 8 -- Reel 16- p. 1. Treatment of mother under slavery Woman and hound Auction block We'd cry and get mad Reel 16- p. 2. Old Man Winder, they couldn't keep Freedom the joyfullest time Reel 16- p. 3. Man escapes under washpot Reel 16- p. 4. Patterollers People would fight back sometimes Preachers advise -- resignation -- resistance Woman hung for not going to work for whites Reel 16- p. 5. Husband kills seven of the whites White kills Negro mistress and her child REVEREND ROE. TABLE OF CONTENTS. Reel 1- P.1. Where born Parents. Learned to read Farmed Father buys farm Working with the plow Reel 1- P.2. Hog claim First time we ate all the meat we wanted Hungry Had to work all the time as children Reel 1- P.3. Pay for farm. No education Gets drunk at 17 Fight Reel 1- P.4. A moral boy Seeking religion First year of work for himself Reel 1- P.5. Leaves home Kansas- the Dalton boys Reel 1- P.6. Back home- then leaves Sherman Oklahoma Marries Reel 2- p. 1. First sermon Best preacher CONTENTS -- 2 -- Reel 2.- p. 2. Vision Reel 2 - P. 3. First revival Holy Spirit inspires sermons Reel 2 - p. 4. Itinerant preaching Hard times as preacher Reel 2 - p. 5. Sunday school missionary Dream about establishment of church Reel 2 - p. 6. The church succeeds Reel 3 - p. 1. Changes Methodist to Baptists Man can be too highly educated to preach Essence of Christianity is love God scattered the people Reel 3 - p.2. Knowledge from reading the Gospel Holy Spirit talks through the Bible Reel 3 - p. 3. Reading the Bible Reel 3 - p. 4. Negro minister emotional You seem to get fired up Reel 3 - p. 5. Spirit of God makes you drunk Spiritof God brought Reverend Roe a long way Reel 3 - p. 6. Learning to read - education Whites accept him CONTENTS - - 3 - - Reel 4 - p. 1. Family driven off the farm Whites whip sister Reel 4.- p. 2. It was valuable land Hates whites Reel 4 - p. 3. Boy's ears are cut off Treated him worse than a dog Cut another boy's tongue off Reel 4 - p. 4. He was thirteen Keep the nigger down God would make a way some day The boy's father was watched Resistance? - - Resignation? Reel 4 - p. 5. Fight legally Whites now more courteous Blessed are the pure in heart Reel 4 - p. 6. God made us all Reel 5 - p. 1. Humanity a beautiful bouquet The flowers I should have been born white Reel 5 - p. 2. Grandmother a mistress to a white man She leaves him Reel 5 - p. 3. Father - mathematician How many crossties to New Orleans? White grandfather part Irish Whites have Negro mistresses Reel 5 - p. 4. Whites recognize Negro kinfolks Patterollers CONTENTS -- 4 -- Reel 5 - p. 5. Negro voters All Republicans Reel 5 - p. 6. Voting (cont'd) Reel 6 - p. 1. Revival (SEE FOLLOWING PAGE, PLEASE) Contents -- 5 -- Reel 6 - p. 1. Revival How to run a revival Reel 6 - p. 2. Sacrificial week Reel 6 - p. 3. Christ key to revival Reel 6 - p. 4. Shouting-why? Reel 6 - p. 5. Shouting Reel 7 - p. 1. His song and how he composed it Reel 7 - p. 2. How much people in church are paid Reel 7 - p. 3. Minister's pay Owns hisown home Reel 7 - p. 4. His children and grandchildren His marriage Reel 7 - p. 5. Lives away from her Reel 8 - p. 1. Preacher never gets to stay with his family Preacher's sons are rebellious Boys are not afraid of their mother Reel 8 - p. 2. Father ruled in his home Saturday night was a big time Games Reel 8 - p. 3. Ring plays Churched for dancing Reel 8 - p. 4. Dancing is sinful because it tempts a man Sinful pleasures Reel 8 - p. 5. Movies bad influence Friction in church Reel 8 - p. 6. Preacher must rule the church CONTENTS --6-- Reel 9 - p. 1. Different types of preachers Evidence that God had marked him for the ministry Reel 9 - p. 2. Preachers are tempted Reel 9 - p. 3. Women interested in preachers Reel 9 - p. 4. Women will work against you if you trun them down A woman accuses him to/the church Reel 9 - p. 5. Another accusation Reel 10 - p. 1. Don't use Mouner's bench Differences between Denominations are foolish Reel 10 - p. 2. Hell should be preached Devil Reel 10 - p. 3. Trust in God and your difficulties will disappear White folks justice Unequal opportunities Reel 10 - p. 4. Negroes should have good zones Bad gravel in the street Reel 11 - p. 1. Mother part Indian -- was a granny Her father from Africa -- story of her family in slavery Reel 11 - p. 2. His mother's remedies Reel 11 - p. 3. Roe is poisoned Mother gives him remedy Reel 11 - p. 4. Roe cures people Reel 12 - p. 1. Another cures -- compounds -- the conjurers Reel 12 - p. 2. Conjuring Mother cures a case of strychnine poisoning CONTENTS --7-- Reel 12 - p. 3. Conjure People have stopped believing in conjure Reel 12 - p. 4. Women who can find things Reel 12 - p. 5. Trouble in church -- false accusation by a rival preacher Reel 13 - p. 1. More false accusations Reel 13 - p. 2. the white boss intervenes Reel 13 - p. 3. Preaches non-resistance Reel 13 - p. 4. Preaching to white folks The doctrine Reel 13 - p. 5. What heaven will be like -- the just will judge the unjust Reverend Roe is above prejudice Reel 14 - p. 1. Roe best fighter in his community when he was a boy Whites accept him Reel 14 - p. 2. Courting in the country -- the girls liked me Girl dies of love for him Reel 14 - p. 3. No promiscuity Reel 14 - p. 4. The old folks' brogue Old stories Reel 14 - p. 5. The blacksmith and the devil Reel 15 - p. 1. Blacksmith and the devil (cont'd) Reel 15 - p. 2. Bluebeard Reel 15 - p. 4. Gallymanders Contents --8-- Reel 16- p. 1. Treatment of mother under slavery Woman and hound Auction block We'd cry and get mad Reel 16- p. 2. Old Man Winder they couldn't keep Freedom the joyfullest time Reel 16- p. 3. Man escapes under washpot Reel 16- p. 4. Patterollers People would fight back sometime Preachers advice -- resignation -- resistance Woman hung for not going to work for whites Reel 16- p. 5. Husband kills seven of the whites White kills Negro mistress and her child ALL SAINTS' PARISH BULLETIN - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - The Fourth Sunday After Trinity Nativity of St. John the Baptist June 24, 1956 ORDER OF SERVICE AT 9:15 ORDER OF SERVICE AT 11:00 *Processional Hymn #10 *Processional Hymn #10 Confession and Lord's Prayer p. 6 Confession and Lord's Prayer p. 6 *Venite #609. p. 9 *Venite #609, p. 9 Psalm 91, p. 454 Psalm 91, p. 454 Lesson Matthew 10:24-39 I Lesson Lamentations 3:22-33 *Benedictus #640, 1st 4 verses, p. 14 *Benedictus es, Domine #623, p, 11 Creed p. 15 and Collects. 194 II Lesson Matthew 10:24-39 Morning Prayers p. 17-20 *Benedictus # 640, 1st 4 verses, p. 14 Offertory Creed p. 15 and Collects p. 194 Sermon Hymn #325, 2nd tune Morning prayers p. 17-20 Sermon - Scott Field Bailey *Sermon Hymn #325, 2nd tune Recessional Hymn #126, 1st tune (omit v. 4,5,7) Sermon - Scott Field Bailey (# indicates Hymnal, p. indicates) Offertory (Prayer Book. *Late arrivals will) Orison Hymn #429, 1st tune (be seated at these points only.) Recessional Hymn #126, 1st tune (omit v. 4,5,7) CLERGY: Scott Field Bailey, Rector. John Paul Carter, Student Chaplain. ALTAR FLOWERS The flowers on the altar are given to the glory of God by Mr. and Mrs. John Mackey in memory of Mr. and Mrs. David Mackey and Mr. and Mrs. Edwin Russell. ACOLYTES: 7:30 Scottie McBride, Pete Hargrove, Gordon Beavers. 9:15 Bill Doty, Robbie Sutherland, Jonathan Decherd, Bill Gammon, Bill Lane, Stayton Gammon, Gary Cole. 11:00 Richard Boner, Irving Cutter, Charles Smith, Allan Henry. USHERS: 7:30 Richard Corner, Robert Berryhill. 9:15 Druce Evans, Jim Ashburne, J. Penn Hargrove. 11:00 Dan Killen, Curtis Schmedes, Clifton Williams SCHEDULE OF SERVICES FOR THE WEEK BEGINNING JUNE 24 SUNDAY - ST. JOHN THE BAPTIST WEDNESDAY 7:30 a.m. Holy Communion 7:05 a.m. Holy Communion 9:15 a.m. Morning Prayer and Sermon 10:00 a.m. Holy Communion 9:15 a.m. Church School FRIDAY - ST PETER 11:00 a.m. Morning Prayer and Sermon 7:05 a.m. Holy Communion 6:00 p.m. Evening Prayer VOLUNTEERS are needed for Brackenridge Hospital Auxiliary in Pediatrics. Persons who would like to work with children and can give time from 3:30 to 6:00 one day a week, please contact Lucette Sharp at GR2-8590. CONFIRMATION CLASSES - 8 p.m. - Sunday - in the Parish House. SAINTS' DAYS: Sunday, June 24th - St. John the Baptist. Friday, June 29th - St. Peter. DEAR FELLOW CHURCHMEN: The Parking Lot which is across the street from the play yard of the Parish House on University Avenue has been completed expect for the lining of it. This lot has been developed to aid with off-street parking for members of All Saints' while attending activities at the church. The mid-week communion service at 10 o'clock on Wednesday fell off to practically a hand full of faithful worshipers because there was no place to park in the vacinity of All Saints' Parish House and Church during the daylight hours of the fall, winter and spring months. The two hour parking zone on 27th alleviated this situation; however, the parking lot was necessary and is now available for use. I sincerely hope that the members of All Saints' will remember the purpose for which the lot was designed and will not abuse it by occupying space in the lot when they are not about the business of the church. St. Andrew's Episcopal School will open again in September with all six of the elementary grades. It is located at 2100 Pearl and is under the directorship of Mrs. Allan Henry. There are at present openings in all grades and inquiries are invited. The school is staffed by an excellent faculty who are committed to the task of educating the entire personality of the children -- mind, body and spirit. St. Andrew's affords to its children an education with a plus. The "plus" being the religion of Christ as believed and taught by the Episcopal Church. For further information about the school telephone GR8-3345. Elsewhere in the bulletin you will find a list of the teachers and the curriculum used in the summer quarter of All Saints' Sunday School. You will recall that from the 6th grade on up the summer quarter places these children in the church rather than the classroom, at the 9:15 service. As always I am profoundly grateful to the teachers of our children. The latter part of June and the early part of July always sees hosts of ordinations in the Diocese of Texas. This year is no exception. Jack Desel will be ordained June 3rd in Killeen; Nelson Longnecker, June 25th, Cathedral, Houston; Mike Keppler, June 26th, Trinity, Houston; Scottie Irvin, June 27th, Rockdale; Gordon Swope, June 29th, Lake Jackson; Claude Behn, July 2nd, Sealy; Ed Rutland, July 3rd, Carthage; Dick Bradshaw July 3rd, Richmond (the Rector of All Saints' will be the preacher at this service); Joe Treadwell, July 5th, McGregor; Roger Cilley and Jack Russell, July 6th, St. David's, Austin. As Roger Cilley is a member of All Saints' it will be my pleasure to present him for his ordination to the Diaconate and I am sure that Roger's friends will take note of the July 6th ordination date in order to support him if not with their presence at least with their prayers on this important date in his life. Let's meet in Church this summer. There is no better place. Faithfully yours, SFB ALL SAINTS' SUNDAY SCHOOL, SUMMER QUARTER: CRIBBERY: Diane Funk, Mrs. Ray M. Hurd. NURSERY: Mrs. Kurt Schmedes, Mrs. Douglas Mould, Mrs. Robert Coldwater. 3 year olds, Section A: Mrs. W. C. Rowland, Text: When They Are Three. 3 year olds, Section B: Sally Thompson, Text: same as section A. 4 year olds: Mrs. Frances Moran, Text: Kindergarten Teacher's Guide remaining in Growing, magazine of The Christian Faith and Life Kindergarten Course. 5 year olds: Mrs. Betty Hatter, Ass't. Sally Emerson. Text: Learning in the Church Kindergarten. 1st Grade, Section 1: Martha McKay, Text: "My Book about God's World". 1st Grade, Section 2: Mrs. J. G. Ashburne, same Text as section 1. 2nd Grade, Section 1: Mrs. Myrtle James, Text: Stories Jesus Told. 2nd Grade, Section 2: John Ashbrooke, same Text as section 1. 3rd Grade, Section 1: Charles Faris, Text: When Jesus Grew Up. 3rd Grade, Section 2: Mrs. J. L. Turpin, same Text as Section 1. 4th Grade, Section 1: Alfred Branshaw, Text: The Lord's Prayer. 4th Grade, Section 2: Mrs. Leonard Massey, same Text as section 1. 5th Grade: Mrs. Oliver Strom. SUBSTITUTES: Mrs. John J. Brinley, Mrs. J. H. Gray. Mrs. R. E. Linde, Mrs. Carl Chelf, Roland Anderson. NEW OFFICERS FOR WOMEN'S AUXILIARY: At the Tuesday, June 12th, meeting of the Women's Auxiliary of All Saints', the following list of officers were elected. They have all agreed to serve. These officers will take office January 1st. President - Mrs. Kathleen Gee Vice-Pres. - Mrs. Peggy Nolle Secretary - Mrs. Betty Bair Treasurer - Mrs. Ann Baxter Parliamentarian - Mrs. Strauss Brown Membership - Mrs. Peggy Thorne, and Social - Mrs. Adeline Rosprim Miss Marcia Hoskins Christian Education - Mrs. Mary Townsend Telephone - Mrs. Laura Smith Book of Remembrance - Mrs. Ray Lee United Thank Offering - Miss Margaret Jones St. David's Selling Booth - Mrs. Dick Miller Yearbook - Miss Marguerite Broman Periodical - Mrs. Gordon Bennett and Publicity - Mrs. Doty McBride (special Mrs. Margaret Conley events) and Mrs. Joe Hornaday, routine Supply - Mrs. Ethel Farr publicity Devotional - Mrs. Rosalee Schmedes Christian-Social Relations and representative to Council of Church Women - Mrs. Speedy Lane ALL SAINTS' CHURCH NON-PROFIT ORG. 209 West 27th U. S. Postage Austin 5, Texas Paid Austin, Texas Permit No. 1372 Form 3547 REQUESTED MRS HARRIET WOOD GORDON 2 2607 WICHITA AUSTIN, TEXAS Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 1 [*Where born*] [*Parents*] R: I was born in Webster Parish, Louisiana. A: How long ago was that? R: It was in 1871. A: Who were your parents? R: Anthony Roe and Eliza -- she was a Bates before she married. A: Were they well-to-do people or--? R: They were poor. They were farmers and of course I didn't have the same privilege that others had. There were no schools there in our home for [*Learned to read*] colored. My father and the other neighbors around, they hired old Irishman, you know, to teach us, and there I learned to read. Yes, I never had a lesson in mathematics in my life -- I just taken that up myself, and learned how to figure well enough to tend to my business. My mother and father, course, married soon after Surrender, and I suppose it must have been along about '67. I was the first child born to my mother and father, but they both [*Farmed*] had three children each in a previous marriage. We worked on a farm; my father worked on shares with a Mr. Caldwell. He stayed there until I was five years old. Then he bought a farm joining Mr. Caldwell's farm on the west. A: He did well? [*Father buys farm*] R: He saved some money, you know. He had three children of his own and three of my mother's -- that was old enough, you see, to work and he made some money, and we bought this farm from a Mr. Hasty, 300 and eight acres. We had a pretty hard times paying for that farm, working, you know. I began working in the field as a full hand in the fields when I was nine years old. I began plowing at nine. A: It must have been mighty hard on a little boy. [*Wrestling with the plow*] R: Yes, (laughter) I remember how I'd wrassle with the plow, you know, and some time it would throw you down, well, I'd get up and try it again, you know. We had a hard time until we paid for the farm. And then Mr. Hasty had a Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 1 [*Where born*] R: I was born in Webster Parish, Louisiana. A: How long ago was that? R: It was in 1871. [*Parents*] A: Who were your parents? R: Anthony Roe and Eliza -- she was a Bates before she married. A: Were they well-to-do people or--? R: They were poor. They were farmers and of course I didn't have the same privileges that others had. There were no schools there in our home for colored. My father and the other neighbors around, they hired an old Irishman, you know, to teach us, and there I learned to read. Yes, I never had a [*Learned to read*] lesson in mathematics in my life -- I just taken that up myself, and learned how to figure well enough to tend to my business. My mother and father, course, married soon after Surrender, and I suppose it must have been along about '67. I was the first child born to my mother and father, but they both had three children each in a previous marriage. We worked on a farm; my [*Farmed*] father worked on shares with a Mr. Caldwell. He stayed there until I was five years old. Then he bought a farm joining Mr. Caldwell's farm on the west. A: He did well? R: He saved some money, you know. He had three children of his own and three of my mother's -- that was old enough, you see, to work and he made some money, and we bought this farm from a Mr. Hasty, 300 and eight acres. We had a [*Father buys farm*] pretty hard times paying for that farm, working, you know. I began working in the field as a full hand in the fields when I was nine years old. I began plowing at nine. A: It must have been mighty hard on a little boy. R: Yes, (laughter) I remember how I'd wrassle with the plow, you know, and some [*Wrestling with the plow*] time it would throw you down, well, I'd get up and try it again, you know. We had a hard time until we paid for the farm. And then Mr. Hasty had a Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 2 claim, you know - the hogs -- you know, we had wild hogs there -- if you [*Hog claim.*] gave some, you put it in the bottom, why, you had a claim, you know and so he bought Mr. Hasty's claim. He paid him $300 for his claim, and we had plenty meat from them. I remember the first time I just had all the good ham meat [*First time he ate all the meat he wanted*] and biscuits I wanted (laughter). One day my father sent me down in the bottom to split rail timbers, you know, to fix the fence. And my sister just cut a whole lot of that good old ham and cooked a lot of biscuits and gave me a great big bucketful to carry along with me. There was a cool spring of water down in the bottom and I ate more ham and biscuits than I split rails. (Laughter) That was one of the happiest days of my life. A: How old were you then, Reverend? R: I don't remember exactly, but I suppose I was about fifteen years old, yes, sir, about fifteen years old. A: And there had been times before, I guess, when you had been hungry -- plenty. R: Oh, yes, there had been times when we didn't have anything to eat but beans [*Hungry*] and cornbread and bacon and not too much of that. And lots of times I was hungry, but we just had to work. A: What did your Mom and Poppa say at times like that? Weren't they sad and--? R: Oh, yes, they would say to us children, "Work hard and it will be better after a while." A: They had seen really hard times under slavery, I guess. [*Had to work all the time as children*] R: Oh yes, we had to work all the time, pretty well. If we weren't working on his farm, we had to work for some of the white folks around. We didn't have no time to stop and rest, and have pleasure like the other children, I mean - the white children; we just had to work all the time, and we'd have to go and tend the farm, whilst the children, you know, went to school, and that helped me some because when the white children would come back from school I'd get with um and I'd read their books, you know. And I learned some that way, but the white folks were very careful about that; they didn't Reverend Roe- Reel 1 - P.3 want us to learn too much, because they said an educated man wouldn't make a good slave, and that's true. Well, after we got our farm paid for -- well, [*Pay for farm*] then, we worked hard until we got things fixed pretty well on our farm. We had a molasses mill and then we had a cotton gin. We ginned the cotton. We had what they call a grist mill we ground the corn on our farm, and my father lived well as long as all of the children, you know, stayed at home; he lived [*No education*] pretty well then, and-- but, we all had to work -- no time to go to school. In fact, there wasn't no schools anywhere around in the State of Louisiana for colored. A: Where was that exactly? Near what town was that? R: It was in Webster Parish. Menden was the county seat. Yes, sir, and now I [*Gets drunk at 17*] worked on the farm with my father until I was twenty-one. When I was seventeen years old, up until I was seventeen rather, the fellows around - lots of um - drank whiskey, and they gave me whiskey to drink, and they carried me out when I was seventeen years old and made me drunk, and I cut up something awful that day. There was a white woman across Black Bayou -- she owned a village store there, you know, a big gin, a cotton gin, and she was well-to-do. And by me being a smart boy and I worked for her a deal, she thought of me as much as she did of her own son, nearly, and Mrs. Lee would always speak up for me, you know. Probably I would have been maybe killed, had it not been for she. A: How was that, you might have been killed? R: Well, I'll tell you about that. Now after I was drunk and I had a brawl [*Fight*] there with some white fellows that was awful mean. I had a pistol; I was a real good shot with a pistol, and the reason the fellow didn't kill me was because he's afraid I would kill him, 'cause I had a pistol, but I never thought of my gun; I was too drunk. They locked me up in a seed bin, and I stayed in there and I sobered up, and they told me about the things that I'd done, and I told them, I says, "Well, I'll never do that again." I was Reverend Roe- Reel 1 - P. 4 seventeen years old and I'm now seventy-seven, the 18th, years old now and I haven't taken a dram since. [*A moral boy*] I never gambled in my life. In fact, I've been very careful in my life. I've never been a rogue, never stole, anything, and I think the reason why -- when I was just a boy, I don't remember how old -- I remember my sister, we thought a deal of each other, and we were seeking religion. Of course, we [*Seeking religion*] hadn't been enlightened. The only thing we knowed was to go and pray and trust in the Lord. And I remember we went together one night out in the pine thicket out at the edge of the old orchard and that night, it was just about just dark I went a little further out in the thicket than she. And I was praying that night. There was something, I don't know, mysterious, seemed to happen to me that sort of changed my whole life, and from that time on I never could partake of those things. You see, there'd been something that kept me, however I didn't join the church at that time, but I always religiously inclined and I attended Sunday school and church. And one of the reasons I didn't join the church was because there were so many different denominations and they was preaching different doctrines, I didn't know who was right. [*First year of work for himself*] I set out to find out; I began to read my Bible. And when I was twenty-one years old my father didn't give me anything--he just told me I was grown and I could go for myself. I went to work for a Mr. Lee there. I worked for him for twenty-five dollars a month and I lost one day that year - the 4th of July. My father asked me to let him use my money, and at the end of the year he would pay me. But that year I bought one of those navy blue suits; they cost ten dollars at that time, and they didn't wear out. And when I had finished the year and went home, my father told me, says "I've sold all the cotton but one bail. So you take that cotton to town and sell it and you pay Mr. Glass a little debt I owe him, and the balance is yours." And when I had paid the debt, I had $17.50. And I had &17.50 and a navy blue suit for my year's work. Reverend Roe- Reel 1 - P. 5 A: Well, didn't that make you mad at your father? Didn't you resent that? R: No, sir, I didn't. A: It looks like you would have. R: Well, it seems so, but he was my father and just whatever my father says was just right. However, I decided, I says I can't do no good at this. I didn't get mad at my father, and I loved him just as well as ever, but I left home. [*Leaves home*] I went to Oklahoma, I stopped in Passeo. That was the time they was opening up the strip and people was running, you know, for that land, and there was so many people in the city until they didn't have no place to sleep, nor nothing to eat. Lot of them just hongry there. But I happened to be able to do so many things -- I could do just any kind of work -- I went to digging wells and I made some money in Passeo. When I left there, I left one night-- there was an old man wanted me to marry his daughter, and he said that I had spoiled her. And I just didn't want to marry that girl, and I didn't think that was true, and then, I wasn't able to take care of a girl. I left. [*Kansas - The Dalton boys*] I stopped at Coffeysville, Kansas; it was in 18 and 92. I was there when the Dalton boys made the raid, I was there when they were all killed but one. He got the money and he got about a mile out of town. But, looking down the hill he could see the fight, and when his brother was shot off of his horse, he turned around and came on down back. And they broke his arm, shot him and captured him and broke his arm. I was there, and since I had been deputized to help to guard the city I left there. A: Why was that? Why did you leave? I don't quite understand. R: Well, sir, that gave me a scare, that fight, and I left there. A: You saw the fight with your own eyes. R: Oh, yes. A: They made a song about that, didn't they? Reverend Roe-- p. 6 r: Yes'm. I knew the fellow but I don't recollect his name. He worked on a livery stable. It was a dead end street, up on Texas Street. A dead-end street, and there was a livery stable and this fellow was the keeper, and there was a patch that lay along side that road that they had to go out. And he was in that patch, and they said there was an old burnt stump and it burned a hole in that stump, kind of a knot-hole, it twas there he lay with his Winchester to shoot those fellows off their horses as they come by and they never could see him. Yeah, that's what they said up there. Well, then I left there and I came back to see my father. I stayed there a short while, and then I left again. A: How'd you find things at home then? R: Well, [back home, then leaves] everything was prosperous, was getting along pretty well. However, they missed me, they missed my labor, you know. And they wanted me to come back and stay at home, but I couldn't see it that way. I see that I could have a better time, I could make more money and have better opportunities at other places. So I left there and came to Dallas, worked there a while and went on to Sherman, Texas. And I made that my home since, principally. [Sherman ????????] However, in 19 and 2 or 3, 19 and 3, I stayed there at home, I mean at Sherman, I bought a place there, and times got so dull, I went on back to Oklahoma again. [Tharries] Well, I had married then, and my wife, she was teaching a little school up there, and I's farming. I was a good farmer. I made some money there on the farm that year. My wife taken sick and I had to send her home and it was that year that I began preaching. Reverend Roe Reel 1 p. 1 I was born in Ramsen County, Webster Parish, Louisiana. How long ago was that? It was in 1971. Who were your parents? Anthony Blue and Eliza -- she was a Bates before she married. Were they well-to-do people or-- ? They were poor. They were farmers and of course I didn't have the same privileges that others had.. There were no schools then in our home for colored. My father and the other neighbors around, they hired an old Irishman, you know, to teach us, and there I learned to read. Yes, I never had mathematics and thelike -- I just taken that up myself, and learned how to feel well enough to tend to my business.. Uh, my mother and father, course, married soon after Surrender, and I suppose it must have been along about '671 I was the first child born to my mother and father, but they both had three children each in a previous marriage.. We worked on a farm; my father worked on share with Mr. Cowell (?). He stayed there until I was five years old. Then he bought a farm joining Mr. Cowel's farm on the west. He did well in this Mr. Cobell's farm? He saved some money, you know. He had three children of his own and three of my mother's -- they was old enough, you see, to work and we made some money, and we bought this farm from Mr. Hasting, a farmand eight acres. Pretty hard times paid for that farm, working, you know. I began working in the field as a full-hand in the fields when I was nine years old.. I began plowing at nine. It must have been mighty hard on a little boy. Yes, (laughter) I remember some time that some time it would throw you down, well, I'd get up and try it again, you know. We had a hard time -- And mr. Hasting claimed the hogs -- you Reverend Roe Reel 1 p. 2. know, we had wild hogs, then--and if you gave some, you put [i???] the bottom, why, you had to clean, you knew and so we bought Mr Hasting's claim. He paid him $300 for his claim, and we had [plenty of?] meat. I remember the first time: I just had all the good ham meat and biscuits I wnanted (laughter). One day my father sent me down in the mine to split rail timbers, you know -- to fix the fence. And my sister just out a whole lot of ham and cooked a lot of biscuits and gave me a gr at bog bucketful to carry along with me. There was a cool spring of watercdownin the bottom and I ate more ham and biscuits that I split rails. (laughter). That was one of the happiest daysof our life. How old about were you then? I don't remember exactly, but I guess I was about fifteen years old, yes, sir, about fifteen years old. And there had been times before, I guess, when you had been hungry -- plenty. Oh, yes, there had been times when we didn't have anything to eat but beans and cornbread. Drinking? Not too much of that. And lots of times I was hungry, but we just had to work. What did you Mo m and Poppa say at times like that? Weren't they sad and --? Oh, yes, they said, "Children, work hard and it will be better after a while." It must have been pretty hard times under slavery. Oh yes, we had to work all the time. If we weren't working for the white man, we had to work for somebody around. We didn't have no time you know, to stop and rest, and pleasure like the colored -- the white-- children; we jus t had to work all the time, and we'd have to go and Reverend Roe. Reel 1 p. 3 tend the farm, whilst the chi dren, you know, went to school helped me somewhat because when they get back, why, I'd read you know. Well, I studied that way, but the white folks were [very?] careful about that; they didn't want us to learn to much, [becau???] said an educated man wouldn't make a good slave, ad that's true. Well, after we get o ur farm -- paid for it-- well, then, we worked until we got things pretty well fixed. We had a molasses mill and then we had a cotton gin and we ginned the cotton. We had what they call a grist mill and we grind the corn on our farm, and my father lived well as long as all the children, you know, stayed at home; he lived pretty well then, and-- but, we all had to work -- no time to go to school. In fact, there wasn't no schools anywhere around in Louisiana for colored. Where was that exactly? Near what town was that? It was in Webster Parish. Millin was the ounty seat. Yes, sir, and now I worked on the farm, with my fathe r until I was twenty-one. When I was seventeen years old, up until I was seventeen rather, the fello ws around drank lots of whiskey, nd they gave me whiskey to drink, and they carried me out when I was seventeen years old and made me drunk, and I cut up something awful that day I went across to Mrs. Lee -- she owned a store up there, you know, a gin, a great bog cotton gin, and she was well-to-do. And by me being a smart boy and worked for her a deal, she thought of me as much as she did her own son, and Mrs. Lee would always speak up for me you know. Probably I would have been maybe killed, had it not been for she. How was that, you might have been killed? Reverend Row. Reel 1. P. 4 Well, I'll tell you about that. hen I was drunk on the part of some smart fellos, that was awful mean. I had a pistol; I was a real good shot with a pistol, and the reason the fell ow didn't kill me was becasuse he was afraid I would kill him, 'cause I had a pistol, but I never thought of my gun; I was too drunk. He locked me up in a seed bin, nd I stayed in there and I sobered up, nd they told me about the things I'd done. and I told them, I says, "well, I'll never do that again." I was seventeen years old and I'm seventy-seven, eighty years old now and I haven't taken a dram since. I never gambling a lot. In fact, I've been very careful in my life. I never robbed, never stole,anyyhing, nd Ixthink the reason why -- I remember my sister, we thought a deal of each other, a d we were seeking religion. Of course, we hadn't been enlightened. The only thing we knew was to go and pray and trust in the Lord. I remember we went together one night to a fl ne peaked house at the edge of the lordshi p, and that night, it was just about just dark and further out in the thicket and sheath. And I was praying that night. There was som thing, I don't know, mysterious, seemed to happen to me that sort of changed my whole life, and from that time on I never could partake of those things. You see, there'd been soe thing that kept me, but I didn't join the church at that time, but I was always religiously inclined and I attended Sunday school at churc h. And the reason I didn't join the church was because there were so many different denominations and different preachers I didn't know who was right. I set out to find out; I began reading my Bible. And when I was twe ty- one years old , my father didn't give me anything; he just told me I was grown and I ould go for myself. I went to work for a Mr. Lee then. I worked for him for twenty-five dollars a month, and I lost one day that year in July. My father asked me t o le t him use my money, and at the end of the year he would pay me. But that year I bought many of Reverend Roe. Reel 1. P. 5 those navy blue suits; they cost ten dollars at that time, and they didn't wear out, and when I had finished the year and went home, my father told me, he says "I've sold all the cotton but one bail. Will you take that cotton to town and sell it and you pay Mr. Glass a little debt I owe him? And the balance is yours." And when I had paid the debt, I had $17.50. And I had $17.50 and a blue suit for my year's work. Well, didn't that make you mad at your father? Didn't you resent that? No. It looks like you would have. Well, it seems so, but he was my father and just whatever my father says was just right. However, I decided, I says I can't do no good here. I didn't get made at my father, and I loved him just as well as ever. I went to Oklahoma, and that was the time they was opening up the strip and there was so many people in the city until they didn't have no place to eat or sleep. But I happened to be able to do so may things; I could do just any kind of work. I went to digging well, and sometime I had something to sell. When I left there, I left one night -- there was an old man wanted me to marry his daughter, and they said that I had spoiled her. And I just didn't want to marry that girl, and I didn't think that was true, and then, I wasn't able to take care of any girl I stopped at Coffersville Kansas; it was in 18 and 92. I was there when the Dalton boys made the raid, and they were all killed. He got the money and got about a mile out of town. When he turned he could see the fight, and when his brother was shot, he turned and came on Reverend Roe. Reel 1. P. 6 own back. And they broke his arm, shot him and broke his arm. I was there, and since I had been deputized to help to guard the city I left there. Why was that? Why did you leave? I don't quite understand. Well, sir, that gave me a scare, and I left there. You saw the fight with your own eyes. Oh, yes. They made a song about that, didn't they? Yes'm. I knew the man that designed it, but I don't recollect his name. He worked on a livery stable. It was a dead-end street, up on Texas Street. A dead-end street, and there was a livery stable and this fellow was the keeper, and there was a patch that lay along side that road that they had to go out. He was in that patch, and they said there was an old burned stump and it burned a hole in that stump, kind of a knot-hole, which was there he lay with his Winchester to shoot those fellows off their horses as they come by and they never could see him. Yeah, that's what they said up there. Well, then I left there, and I came back to see my father. I stayed there a short while, and then I left again. How'd you find things at home, though? Well, everything was prosperous, was getting along pretty well. Well, they missed me, they missed my labor you know. Then, they wanted me to come back and stay at home.. I couldn't see it that way. I see that I could have a better time, I could make more money and have better opportunities, so I left there and came to Dallas, worked there a while and went on to Sherman, Texas. I made that my home since principally; however, in 19 and 2 or 3, 19 and 3, I stayed there at home, I mean at Sherman, I bought me a place there, and times got so terrible, I went on back to Oklahoma again. Reverend Roe. Reel 1. P.7 Well, I had married then, and my wife, she was teaching a little school up there, and I's farming [worked on the farm]. I was a good farmer. I made some money there on the farm that year. My wife taken sick and I had to send her home, and it was that year that I began preaching. Reverend Roe Reel 1 p. 1 [*Room 1301 - Bea Baron*] R I was born in [Ramsen County], Webster Parish, Louisiana. A How long ago was that? R It was in 1871. A Who were your parents? R Anthony [Blue] Roe and Eliza -- she was a Bates before she married. A Were they well-to-do-people or-- ? R They were poor. They were farmers and of course I didn't have the same privilege[s] that others had.. There were no schools the[n]re in our home for colored. My father and the other neighbors around, they hired an old Irishman, you know, to teach us, and there I learned to read. Yes, I never had a lesson in mathematics [and the like] in my life -- I just taken that up myself, and learned how to [feel] figure well enough to tend my business.. [Uh,] My mother and father, course, married soon after Surrender, and I suppose it must have been along about '67. I was the first child born to my mother and father, but they both had three children each in a previous marriage.. We worked on a farm; my father worked on shares with a Mr. [Cowell (?)] Caldwell. He stayed there until I was five years old. Then he bought a farm joining Mr. [C owbel's] Caldwell's farm on the west. A He did well? [in this.. Mr. Cobell's farm?] R He saved some money, you know. He had three chikldren of his own and three of my mother's -- [they] that was old enough, you see, to work and [we] he made some money, and we bought this farm from a Mr. Hast[ing]y, [a] 300 [farm] and eighty acres. [Pretty] We had a pretty hard times [paid] paying for that farm, working, you know. I began working in the field as a full hand in the fields when I was nine years old.. I beg[a]in plowing at nine. A It must have been mighty hard on a little boy. R Yes, (laugter) I remember [some time that] how I'd wrassle with the plow, you know, and some time it would throw you down, well, I'd get up and try it again, you know. We had a hard time [know, we paid for the farm] until we paid for the farm --And then Mr. Hasting had a claim[ed] you know the hogs -- you Reverend Roe Reel 1 p. 2. know, we had wild hogs, then--and if you gave some, you put it in the bottom, why, you had [to claim] a claim, you know and so [we] he bought Mr. [Hasting's] Hasty's claim. He paid him $300 for his claim, and we had plenty meat [from them]. I remember the first time I just had all the good ham meat and biscuits I wanted (laughter). One day my father sent me down in the [mine] bottom to split rail timbers, you know to fix the fence. And my sister just cut a whole lot of [that good old] ham and cooked a lot of biscuits and gave me a great big bucketful to carry along with me. There was a cool spring of water down in the bottom and I ate more ham and biscuits than I split rails. (laughter). That was one of the happiest days of [our] my life. [**A**] How old about were you then Rev? [**R**] I don't remember exactly but I [guess] suppose I was about fifteen years old, yes, sir, about fifteen years old. [**A**] And there had been times before, I guess, when you had been hungry -- plenty. Oh, yes, there had been times when we didn't have anything to eat but beans and cornbread [and bacon] [and Drinking?] Not too much of that. And lots of times I was hungry, but we just had to work. [**A**] What did your Mom and Poppa say at times like that? Weren't they sad and --? [**R**] Oh, yes, they [said] would say to us children, "work hard and it will be better after a while." [It must have been pretty] They had seen really hard times under slavery, I guess. Oh yes, we had to work all the time, [pretty well] If we weren't working [for the white man] on his farm, we had to work for some[body] around the white folks. We didn't have no time [you know], to stop and rest, and pleasure like the [colored] other children, I mean -- the white-- children; we just had to work all the time, and we'd have to go and Reverend Roe. Reel 1 p. 3. tend the farm, whilst the chi dren, you know, went to school, ad that helped me some[what] because when the[y get back, why,] white children would come back from school I'd get with um and I'd read their books, you know. [Well, I studied] And I learned some that way, but the white folks were very careful about that; they didn't want us to learn too much, because they said an educated man wouldn't make a good slave, [ad] and that's true. Well, after we got our farm -d- paid for [it]-- well, then, we worked hard until we got things fixed pretty well [fixed] on our farm. We had a molasses mill and then we had a cotton gin, [and] we ginned the cotton. We had what they call a grist mill [and] we [grind] ground the corn on our farm, and my father lived well as long as all of the children, you know, stayed at home; he lived pretty well then, and -- but, we all had to work -- no time to go to school. In fact, there wasn't no schools anywhere around in the state of Louisiana for colored. Where was that exactly? Near what town was that? It was in Webster Parish. [Millin] Menden was the county seat. Yes, sir, and now I worked on the farm with my father until I was twenty-one. When I was seventeen years old, up until I was seventeen rather, the fellows around lots of um drank [lots of] whiskey, and they gave me whiskey to drink, and they carried me out when I was seventeen years old and made me drunk, and I cut up something awful that day [I went] There was a white woman come Black Bayou [across to Mrs. Lee] -- she owned a store [up there] village there, you know, a big gin, a [great big] a cotton gin, and she was well-to-do. And by me being a smart boy and I worked for her a deal, she thought of me as much as she did of her own son nearly, and Mrs. Lee would always speak up for me you know. P Probably I would have been maybe killed, had it not been for she. How was that, you might have been killed? Reverend Roe. Reel 1. P. 4 Well, I'll tell you about that. Now after [hen] I was drunk and I had a brawl [on the part of some] there with some white [smart] fellows that was awful mean. I had a pistol; I was a real good shot with a pistol, and the reason the fell ow didn't kill me was because he was afraid I would kill him, 'cause I had a pistol, but I never thought of my gun; I was too drunk. [He] they locked me up in a seed bin, nd I stayed in there and I sobered up, and [ad] they told me about the things that I'd done, and I told them, I says, "well, I'll never do that again." I was seventeen years old and I'm now seventy-seven, [eighty] the 18th years old now and I haven't taken a dram since. I never gambled [gambling a lot] in my life. In fact, I've been very careful in my life. I've never been a rogue [robbed], never stole ,anything, [ad I] and I think the reason why when I was just a boy, I don't how old -- I remember my sister, we thought a deal of each other, and we were seeking religion. Of course, we hadn't [hand't] been enlightened. The only thing we knowed was to go and pray and trust in the Lord. And I remember we went together one night out in the thicket out [to a fine peaked house] at the edge of the old [lordshi p,] orchard and that night, it was just about just dark [and] I went a little further out in the thicket [and] than sheaf [sheath]. And I was praying that night. There was something, I don't know, mysterious, seemed to happen to me that sort of changed my whole life, and from that time on I never could partake of those things. You see, there'd been something that kept me, [but] however I didn't join the church at that time, but I was always religiously inclined and I attended Sunday school [at] and churc h. And one of the reasons I didn't join the church was because there were so many different denominations and they was preaching different doctrines I didn't know who was right. I set to find out; I began to read [reading] my Bible. And when I was twe ty-one years old my father didn't give me anything, he just told me I was grown [gron] and I could go for myself. I went to work for a Mr. Lee there [then]. I worked for him for twenty-five dollars a month and I lost one day that year [in] the 4th July. My father asked me to let him use my money, and at the end of the year he would pay me. But that year I bought one [many] of Reverend Roe. Reel 1. P. 5 those navy blue suits; they cost ten dollars at that time, and they didn't wear out. And when I had finished the year and went home, my father told me, he says "I've sold all the cotton but one bail. So you take that cotton to town and sell it and you pay Mr. Glass a little debt I owe him and the balance is yours." And when I had paid the debt, I had $17.50. And I had $17.50 and a new suit for my year's work. Well, didn't that make you mad at your father? Didn't you resent that? No sir, I didn't. It looks like you would have. Well, it seems so, but he was my father and just whatever my father says was just right. However, I decided, I says I can't do no good at this. I didn't get mad at my father, and I loved him just as well as ever, but I left home. I stopped in Passeo. The people was running, you know for that land. that was the strip and there was so many people in the city until they didn't have no place to sleep, nor nothing to eat. Lot of them just hungry there. But I happened to be able to do so many things. I could do just any kind of work - I went to digging wells, & I made some money in Passeo. When I left there, I left one night -- there was an old man wanted me to marry his daughter, and he said that I had spoiled her. And I just didn't want to marry that girl, and I didn't think that was true, and then, I wasn't able to take care of a girl. I left. I stopped at Coffeysville, Kansas; it was in 18 and 92. I was there when the Dalton boys made the raid. I was there when they were all killed but one. He got the money and he got about a mile out of town. But looking down the hill he could see the fight, and when his brother was shot off his horse he turned around and came on Reverend Roe. Reel 1. P. 6 own back. And they broke his arm, shot him and borke his arm [& captured him]. I was there, and since I had been deputized to help to guard the city I left there. Why was that? Why did you leave? I dont quite understand. Well, sir, that gave me a scare that fight, and I left there. You saw the fight with your own eyes. Oh, yes. They made a song about that, didn't they? Yes'm. I knew the [man] fellow that [designed it,] but I don't recollect his name. He worked on a livery stable. It was a dead-end stree, up on Texas Street. A dead-end street, and there was a livery stable and this fellow was the keeper, and there was a patch that lay along side that road that they had to go out. And he was in that patch, and they said there was an old burn[ed]t stump and it burned a hole in that stump, kind of a knot-hole, [which] it twas was there he lay with his Winchester to shoot those fellows off their horses as they come by and they never could see him. Yeah, that's what they said up there. Well, then I left there and I came back to see my father. I stayed there a short while, and then I left again. How'd you find things at home, [though] then? Well, everything was prosperous, was getting along pretty well. [Well,] However they missed me, they missed my labor, you know. [Then,] And they wanted me to ome back and stay at home, but I couldn't see it that way. I see that I [culd] could have a better time, I could make more money and have better opportunities, at other places. So I left there and came to Dallas, worked there a while and went on to Sherman, Texas. And I made that my home since, principally, However, in 19 and 2 [I] or 3, 19and 3, I stayed there at home, I mean at Sherman, I bought me a place there, and times got so [terrible] dull, I went on back to Oklahoma again. Reverend Roe. Reel 1. P. 7 Well, I had married then, and my wife, she was teaching a little school up there, and I worked on the farm. I was a good farmer. I made some money there on the farm that year. My wife taken sick and I had to send her home, and it was that year that I began preaching. Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 2 claim, you know - the hogs -- you know, we had wild hogs there -- and if you gave some, you put in the bottom, why, you had a claim, you know and so he bought Mr. Hasty's claim. He paid him $300 for his claim, and we had plenty meat from them. I remember the first time I just had all the good ham meat and biscuits I wanted (laughter). One day my father sent me down in the bottom to split rail timbers, you know, to fix the fence. And my sister just cut a whole lot of that good old ham and cooked a lot of biscuits and gave me a great big bucketful to carry along with me. There was a cool spring of water down in the bottom and I ate more ham and biscuits then I split rails. (Laughter) That was one of the happiest days of my life. [*Hog claim.*] [*First time he ate all the meat he wanted.*] A: How old about were you then, Reverend? R: I don't remember exactly, but I suppose I was about fifteen years old, yes, sir, about fifteen years old. A: And there had been times before, I guess, when you had been hungry -- plenty. R: Oh, yes, there had been times when we didn't have anything to eat but beans and cornbread and bacon and not too much of that. And lots of times I was hongry, but we just had to work. [*Hungry*] A: What did your Mom and Poppa say at times like that? Weren't they sad and--? R: Oh, yes, they would say to us children, "Work hard and it will be better after a while." A: They had seen really hard times under slavery, I guess. R: Oh yes, we had to work all the time, pretty well. If we weren't working on his farm, we had to work for some of the white folks around. We didn't have no time to stop and rest, and have pleasure like the other children, I mean - the white children; we just had to work all the time, and we'd have to go and tend the farm, whilst the children, you know, went to school, and that helped me some because when the white children would come back from school I'd get with um and I'd read their books, you know. And I learned some that way, but the white folks were very careful about that; they didn't [*Had to work all the time as children*] Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 3 want us to learn too much, because they said an educated man wouldn't make a good slave, and that's true. Well, after we got our farm paid for -- well, then, we worked hard until we got things fixed pretty well on our farm. We had a molasses mill and then we had a cotton gin. We ginned the cotton, We had what they call a grist mill we ground the corn on our farm, and my father lived well as long as all of the children, you know, stayed at home; he lived pretty well then, and-- but, we all had to work -- no time to go to school. In fact, there wasn't no schools anywhere around in the State of Louisiana for colored. [*Pay for farm*] [*No education*] A: Where was that exactly? Near what town was that? R: It was in Webster Parish. Menden was the county seat. Yes, sir, and now I worked on the farm with my father until I was twenty-one. When I was seventeen years old, up until I was seventeen rather, the fellows around - lots of um - drank whiskey, and they gave me whiskey to drink, and they carried me out when I was seventeen years old and made me drunk, and I cut up something awful that day. There was a white woman across Black Bayou -- she owned a village store there, you know, a big gin, a cotton gin, and she was well-to-do. And by me being a smart boy and I worked for her a deal, she thought of me as much as she did of her own son, nearly, and Mrs. Lee would always speak up for me, you know. Probably I would have been maybe killed, had it not been for she. [*Gets drunk at 17*] A: How was that, you might have been killed? R: Well, I'll tell you about that. Now after I was drunk and I had a brawl there with some white fellows that was awful mean. I had a pistol; I was a real good shot with a pistol, and the reason the fellow didn't kill me was because he 's afraid I would kill him, 'cause I had a pistol, but I never thought of my gun; I was too drunk. They locked me up in a seed bin, and I stayed in there and I sobered up, and they told me about the things that I'd done, and I told them, I says, "Well, I'll never do that again." I was [*Fight*] Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 4 seventeen years old and I'm now seventy-seven, the 18th, years old now, and I haven't taken a dram since. [*A moral boy --*] I never gambled in my life. In fact, I've been very careful in my life. I've never been a rogue, never stole, anything, and I think the reason why -- when I was just a boy, I don't remember how old -- I remember my sister, we thought a deal of each other, and we were seeking religion. Of course, we [*Seeking religion*] hadn't been enlightened. The only thing we knowed was to go and pray and trust in the Lord. And I remember we went together one night in the pine thicket out at the edge of the old orchard and that night, it was just about just dark I went a little further out in the thicket than she. And I was praying that night. There was something, I don't know, mysterious, seemed to happen to me that sort of changed my whole life, and from that time on I never could partake of those things. You see, there'd been something that kept me, however I didn't join the church at that time, but I was always religiously inclined and I attended Sunday school and church. And one of the reasons I didn't join the church was because there were so many different denominations and they was preaching different doctrines, I didn't know who was right. [*First year of work for himself*] I set out to find out; I began to read my Bible. And when I was twenty-one years old my father didn't give me anything--he just told me I was grown and I could go for myself. I went to work for a Mr. Lee there. I worked for him for twenty-five dollars a month and I lost one day that year- the 4th July. My father asked me to let him use my money, and at the end of the year he would pay me. But that year I bought one of those navy blue suits; they cost ten dollars at that time, and they didn't wear out. And when I had finished the year and went home, my father told me, says "I've sold all the cotton but one bail. So you take that cotton to town and sell it and you pay Mr. Glass a little debt I owe him, and the balance is yours." And when I had paid the debt, I had $17.50. And I had $17.50 and a navy blue suit for my year's work. Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 5 A: Well, didn't that make you mad at your father? Didn't you resent that? R: No, sir, I didn't. A: It looks like you would have. R: Well, it seems so, but he was my father and just whatever my father says was just right. However, I decided, I says I can't do no good at this. I didn't get mad at my father, and I loved him just as well as ever, but I left home. I went to Oklahoma, I stopped in Passeo. That was the time they was opening up the strip and the people was running, you know, for that land, and there was so many people in the city until they didn't have no place to sleep, nor nothing to eat. Lot of them just hongry there. But I happened to be able to do so many things--I could do just any kind of work--I went to digging wells and I made some money in Passeo. When I left there, I left one night -- there was an old man wanted me to marry his daughter, and he said that I had spoiled her. And I just didn't want to marry that girl, and I didn't think that was true, and then, I wasn't able to take care of a girl. I left. [*Kansas The Dalton boys*] I stopped at Coffeysville, Kansas; it was in 18 and 92. I was there when the Dalton boys made the raid, I was there when they were all killed but one. He got the money and he got about a mile out of town. But, looking down the hill he could see the fight, and when his brother was shot off of his horse, he turned around and came on down back. And they broke his arm, shot him and captured him and broke his arm. I was there, and since I had been deputized to help to guard the city I left there. A: Why was that? Why did you leave? I don't quite understand. R: Well, sir, that gave me a scare, that fight, and I left there. A: You saw the fight with your own eyes. R: Oh, yes. A: They made a song about that, didn't they? Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 6 R: Yes'm. I knew the fellow but I don't recollect his name. He worked on a livery stable. It was a dead-end street, up on Texas Street. A dead-end street, and where was a livery stable and this fellow was the keeper, and there was a patch that lay along side that road that they had to go out. And he was in that patch, and they said there was an old burnt stump and it burned a hole in that stump, kind of a knot-hole, it was there he lay with his Winchester to shoot those fellows off their horses as they come by and they never could see him. Yeah, that's what they said up there. Well, then I left there and I came back to see my father. I stayed there a short while, and then I left again. A: How'd you find things at home then? [*Back home - Then leaves*] R: Well, everything was prosperous, was getting along pretty well. However, they missed me, they missed my labor, you know. And they wanted me to come back and stay at home, but I couldn't see it that way. I see that I could have a better time, I could make more money and have better opportunities at other places. So I left there and came to Dallas, worked there a while and went on to Sherman, Texas. And I made that my home since, principally. [*Sherman Oklahoma*] However, in 19 and 2 or 3, 19 and 3, I stayed there at home, I mean at Sherman, I bought me a place there, and times got so dull, I went on back to Oklahoma again. [*Marries*] Well, I had married then, and my wife, she was teaching a little school up there, and I's farming. I was a good farmer. I made some money there on the farm that year. My wife taken sick and I had to send her home and it was that year that I began preaching. Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 1 [*Where born Parents*] R: I was born in Webster Parish, Louisiana. A: How long ago was that? R: It was in 1871. A: Who were your parents? R: Anthony Roe and Eliza -- she was a Bates before she married. A: Were they well-to-do people or--? R: They were poor. They were farmers and of course I didn't have the same privilege that others had. There were no schools there in our home for colored. [*Learned to read*] My father and the other neighbors around, they hired an old Irish-man, you know, to teach us, and there I learned to read. Yes, I never had a lesson in mathematics in my life -- I just taken that up myself, and learned how to figure well enough to tend to my business. My mother and father, course, married soon after Surrender, and I suppose it must have been along about '67. I was the first child born to my mother and father, but they both had three children each in a previous marriage. [*Farmed*] We worked on a farm; my father worked on shares with a Mr. Caldwell. He stayed there until I was five years old. Then he bought a farm joining Mr. Caldwell's farm on the west. A: He did well? [*Fathers farm-*] R: He saved some money, you know. He had three children of his own and three of my mother's -- that was old enough, you see, to work and he made some money, and we bought this farm from a Mr. Hasty, 300 and eight acres. We had a pretty hard times paying for that farm, working, you know. I began working in the field as a full hand in the fields when I was nine years old. I began plowing at nine. A: It must have been mighty hard on a little boy. [*Wrestling with the plow*] R: Yes, (laughter) I remember how I'd wrassle with the plow, you know, and some time it would throw you down, well, I'd get up and try it again, you know. We had a hard time until we paid for the farm. And then Mr. Hasty had a Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 2 [*Hog claim.*] claim, you know - the hogs -- you know, we had wild hogs there -- and if you gave some, you put it in the bottom, why, you had a claim, you know and so he bought Mr. Hasty's claim. He paid him $300 for his claim, and we had plenty meat from them. [*First time he ate all the meat he wanted.*] I remember the first time I just had all the good ham meat and biscuits I wanted (laughter). One day my father sent me down in the bottom to split rail timbers, you know, to fix the fence. And my sister just cut a lot of that good old ham and cooked a lot of biscuits and gave me a great big bucketful to carry along with me. There was a cool spring of water down in the bottom and I ate more ham and biscuits than I split rails. (Laughter) That was one of the happiest days of my life. A: How old about were you then, Reverend? R: I don't remember exactly, but I suppose I was about fifteen years old, yes, sir, about fifteen years old. A: and there had been times before, I guess, when you had been hungry -- plenty. R: Oh, yes, there had been times when we didn't have anything to eat but beans [*Hungry*] and cornbread and bacon and not too much of that. And lots of times I was hungry, but we just had to work. A: What did your Mom and Poppa say at times like that? Weren't they sad and--? R: Oh, yes, they would say to us children, "Work hard and it will be better after a while." A: They had seen really hard times under slavery, I guess. R: Oh yes, we had to work all the time, pretty well. If we weren't working [*Had to work all the time as children*] on his farm, we had to work for some of the white folks around. We didn't have no time to stop and rest, and have pleasure like the other children, I mean - the white children; we just had to work all the time, and we'd have to go and tend the farm, whilst the children, you know, went to school, and that helped me some because when the white children would come back from school I'd get with um and I'd read their books, you know. And I learned some that way, but the white folks were very careful about that; they didn't Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 3 want us to learn too much, because they said an educated man wouldn't make a good slave, and that's true. Well, after we got our farm paid for -- well, then, we worked hard until we got things fixed pretty well on our farm. We had a molasses mill and then we had a cotton gin. We ginned the cotton. We had what they call a grist mill we ground the corn on our farm, and my father lived well as long as all of the children, you know, stayed at home; he lived pretty well then, and -- but, we all had to work -- no time to go to school. In fact, there wasn't no schools anywhere around in the State of Louisiana for colored. A: Where was that exactly? Near what town was that? R: It was in Webster Parish. Menden was the county seat. Yes, sir, and now I worked on the farm with my father until I was twenty-one. When I was seventeen years old, up until I was seventeen rather, the fellows around - lots of um- drank whiskey, and they gave me whiskey to drink, and they carried me out when I was seventeen years old and made me drunk, and I cut up something awful that day. There was a white woman across Black Bayou -- she owned a village store there, you know, a big gin, a cotton gin, and she was well-to-do. And by me being a smart boy and I worked for her a deal, she thought of me as much as she did of her own son, nearly, and Mrs. Lee would always speak up for me, you know. Probably I would have been maybe killed, had it not been for she. A: How was that, you might have been killed? R: Well, I'll tell you about that. Now after I was drunk and I had a brawl there with some white fellows that was awful mean. I had a pistol; I was a real good shot with a pistol, and the reason the fellow didn't kill me was because he's afraid I would kill him, 'cause I had a pistol, but I never thought of my gun; I was too drunk. They locked me up in a seed bin, and I stayed in there and I sobered up, and they told me about the things that I'd done, and I told them, I says, "Well, I'll never do that again." I was Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 4 seventeen years old and I'm now seventy-seven, the 18th, years old and I haven't taken a dram since. I never gambled in my life. In fact, I've been very careful in my life. I've never been a rogue, never stole, anything, and I think the reason why -- when I was just a boy, I don't remember how old -- I remember my sister, we thought a deal of each other, and we were seeking religion. Of course, we hadn't been enlightened. The only thing we knowed was to go and pray and trust in the Lord. And I remember we went together one night out in the pine thicket out at the edge of the old orchard and that night, it was just dark I went a little further out in the thicket than she. And I was praying that night. There was something, I don't know, mysterious, seemed to happen to me that sort of changed my whole life, and from that time on I never could par- take of those things. You see, there'd been something that kept me, however I didn't join the church at that time, but I was always religiously inclined and I attended Sunday school and church. And one of the reasons I didn't they was preaching different doctrines, I didn't know who was right. I set out to find out; I began to read my Bible. And when I was twenty-one years old my father didn't give me anything--he just told me I was grown I could go for myself. I went to work for a Mr. Lee there. I worked for him for twenty-five dollars a month and I lost one day that year - the 4th July. My father asked me to let him use my money, and at the end of the year he would pay me. But that year I bought one of those navy blue suits; they cost ten dollars at that time, and they didn't wear out. And when I had finished the year and went home, my father told me, says "I've sold all the cotton but one bail. So you take that cotton to town and sell it and you pay Mr. Glass a little debt I owe him, and the balance is yours" And when I had paid the debt, I had $17.50. And I had $17.50 and a navy blue suit for my year's work. Reverend Roe- Reel 1- P. 5 A: Well, didn't that make you mad at your father? Didn't you resent that? R: No, sir, I didn't. A: It looks like you would have. R: Well, it seems so, but he was my father and just whatever my father says was just right. However, I decided, I says I can't do no good at this. I didn't get mad at my father, and I loved him just as well as ever, but I left home. [*Leaves home*] I went to Oklahoma, I stopped in Passeo. That was the time they was opening up the strip and the people was running, you know, for that land, and there was so many people in the city until they didn't have no place to sleep, nor nothing to eat. Lot of them just hongry there. But I happened to be able to do so many things--I could do just any kind of a work--I went to digging wells and I made some money in Passeo. When I left there, I left one night--there was an old man wanted me to marry his daughter, and he said that I had spoiled her. And I just didn't want to marry that girl, and I didn't think that was true, and then, I wasn't able to take care of a girl. I left. [*Kansas -- The Dalton boys*] I stopped at Coffeysville, Kansas; it was in 18 and 92. I was there when the Dalton boys made the raid, I was there when they were all killed but one. He got the money and he got about a mile out of town. But, looking down the hill he could see the fight, and when his brother was shot off of his horse, he turned around and came on down back. And they broke his arm, shot him and captured him and broke his arm. I was there, and since I had been deputized to help to guard the city I left there. A: Why was that? Why did you leave? I don't quite understand. R: Well, sir, that gave me a scare, that fight and I left there. A: You saw the fight with your own eyes. R: Oh, yes. A: They made a song about that, didn't they? Reverend Roe - Reel 1 - P. 6 R: Yes'm. I knew the fellow but I don't recollect his name. He worked on a livery stable. It was a dead-end street, up on Texas Street. A dead-end street, and there was a livery stable and this fellow was the keeper, and there was a patch that lay along side that road that they had to go out. And he was in that patch, and they said there was an old burnt stump and it burned a hole in that stump, kind of a knot-hole, it twas there he lay with his Winchester to shoot those fellows off their horses as they come by and they never could see him. Yeah, that's what they said up there. Well, then I left there and I came back to see my father. I stayed there a short while, and then I left again. A; How'd you find things at home then? R: Well, everything was prosperous, was getting along pretty well. However, they missed me, they missed my labor, you know. And they wanted me to come back and stay at home, but I couldn't see it that way. I see that I could have a better time, I could make more money and have better opportunities at other places. So I left there and came to Dallas, worked there a while and went on to Sherman, Texas. And I made that my home since, principally. However, in 19 and 2 or 3, 19 and 3, I stayed there at home, I mean at Sherman, I bought me a place there, and times got so dull, I went on back to Oklahoma again. Well, I had married then, and my wife, she was teaching a little school up there, and I's farming. I was a good farmer. I made some money there on the farm that year. My wife taken sick and I had to send her home and it was that year that I began preaching. Reverend Roe Reel 2 p.1 R: I began--well, I asked for license topreach and they wouldn't allow me to speak in the church but there was a woman, very sick, and she wanted to hear service. They sent me out there, and one of the deacons carried me. I rode a mule bareback. I went out and there was a few people around her. So I had a song and prayer. The old deacon prayed, I don't remember the verse, and I [had] taken [as] for my text, I think, it's the second chapter of James--"If there is any sick among you, call for the [help] elders of the church. Let them pray for you, [all of them] anointing you with oil, and [they shall] the prayers of faith shall save the sick." I spoke from that text; I don't remember anything I said, it seemed like something else had holt to me, but when I kinda come to myself, I just talked. The people was all shedding tears all around me, and I couldn't say what I['d] had done. The old deacon then got ready and we went back and he told them that [priest] I preached [that is was] just about [the finest service he ever done] as fine a sermon as he's want to hear. And then they had me [the preacher] to preach it in the church. So[me] men came in to make fun -- it was in the Territory, Indian Territory, and [it] the people was awful wild up there. They taken seat in front of the pulpit -- "We're gonna have some fun out of him." And I taken one of them [out of the pulpit] in the church that night. A: [They} These were some white men or were these all colored. R: Oh those, they were colored, Indian, 1/2 Indian [they been there a long time]. Well then they tried to call me to [their] that church but I wouldn't accept it because the man that was pastoring [there], you know, he [likes for] license me to preach and I wouldn't accept the church. Then I returned back home because I was said to be the best preacher up in that part of the country and I knew that was no place for me. I had to be where there was something for me to [preach about] reach up after. I come on back to Texas but let me tell you this story... There was something happened [there] just before I left there that I have never been able to understand. Now you have to make a monthly report the Reverend Roe. Reel2 p. 2 teachers did, you know, [then,] [*I have-*] and my wife had been teaching and I assisted her in making that report each month, and a woman came to take her place after she had to leave and go home, and she invited me out to help her [pastor- I'd] [*as she hadn't*] been accustomed to that, you know. I went outthere that night and I stayed til I guess [around] [*round*] eleven o'clock, and I started home. I was bach[eler] [*?*]; my wife had gone, you know. [a] [*A*]nd I got a little ways [and] [*from her house and for some cause, I don't know, I*] looked back and there was a light [*?*], the rays of a light, [shining in back] across the road behind me. It kinda made me feel funny because I could look each way[s] a[n]d couldn't see no light an I [c]ouldn't see why there would be rays of a light [when] [*and*] there was no light. I went on, thinking about it, [*and] looked up, and it was shining in front of me. Noe then it was behind me and before behind me. And I [kinda] [*just*] felt [*like*] I was [*almost] in a dream or something. I [woked up] [*walked out*] and I looked down at the gravels in the light, and it was just [boulder] [*bordered*] , just like yo u see a shadow, just [boulder] [*bordered*]. The shadow was jus[y] [*t*] bordered; it was just like the lightness was just yo to he e, just bordered, you see[*.*] [a][*A*]nd I looked at that light, and I stopped; I just didn't know what to think about it, and finally I just stepped in it, and when I did, it just seemed like [*just*] somet[*h*]ing [*just*] come up just like when your foot go to sleep, you know, you had that happen, [like tha] [*?*] and I [got on my] [*knelt down*] [knees] [*?*] and I prayed, I don't know how long [and I prays] [*I was in that place*] and final[y][*l*]ly I said, "WEll, I don't know. Maybe something gonna happen to me.[*Don't know what it is.*]". And I got up and someting just seemed [*when I stepped out of it*] like to say to me]"you ought to [have] pulled off your shoes." And Isaid, "Lord, you know, I didn't know." That's what I said. I got back in [there], but I [pulled off] [*never did think about pulling*] my shoes[*off*], and I prayed again, and then when I got up [.I] [*and*] walked [*out of it again*], I walked a little piece and [*I*] looked back, and it was gone. I went on home. Soon after that I left there [,] and came back to Sherman, and I was asked [to] Reverend Roe. Reel 2. P.3 to go out by my pastor and carry on a rival until he could come. I went in there on Sunday, you know, and there was Monday and Tuesday and he came Wednesday. Well, the feeling that came over me when I was in that light, it came back to me, and, you know, I wasn't no preacher then, but the people just couldn't stand me hardly. We had to haul them home. What happened to them, what did they do? I don't know; they just shouted and calling out, and it went on that way each night until the pastor come. Well he was really a good preacher, and when he come and started, the muting just died. We didn't have any such service anymore after he came and took over. And that have followed me since. Whenever that feeling comes on me now, if I'm preaching, it seems to just sway the folks. When that's gone, why, just ordinary. And I think that sometime that's one of the reasons that some folks say I'm a great preacher. It doesn't come on me all the time, but just at times it comes on me that way. A: How do you do--I mean how do you describe that? What do you think it is in yourself? R: I couldn't think of anything it could be but the Holy Spirit. I just don't see anything else it could be would have effect. I just don't seem to be all together at myself. A: You don't remember afterwards just what you've been doing or saying as the Holy Spirit is coming down that way. R: I don't remember it; no, sir, I don't. And often I go to my pulipit and really don't know what I'm gonna say. And I just take my text and I start to talking, and just seems things go to coming to me. And another thing, I just don't feel, you know, that I'm gonna be able to preach a sermon xxxx worthwhile. In fact, I just always have that Reverend Roe. Reel 2. P. 4 humble feeling about me o and I'm never anxious to go ahead of nobody [and things] things like That. Just when my time comes, I just get up and [address the camp] do The rest at [e???], and if that feeling comes over me, why, [that's] it's just all right. Now, I['ve] have had some very hard times in my ministry because after I began preaching I'd go wherever I [read] heard. [It] o a place [for] That was suffering for the Gospel I'd go, [I'd] yep had to walk. I [?] had walked as high as twelve miles on Sunday morning and preached all day and wouldn't get a meal, and sometimes I would have to stay all night[.], [A]and I have gone through the [feeling [?] to call and eat] field and pulled year covn and carneel along with [it] me. And after d I'd take that [call] ear of corn and eat it to kinda satisfy my stomach. A: The folks wouldn't even give you anything to eat? They didn't want you There, or they were too poor to feed you, or what? R: I think they were mostly too poor, and [they had] There of course a lot of people who worked on white fold'ses farms had to get all their food from the white folks and on some cases [they] didn't allow them to feed nobody, and that might have been the reason, you know; I didn't ask. I only went there to serve and I did that, and would have to walk back sometimes, hongry. That had happened to me more than once. Lots of times. But it didn't stop me, I [was] would still go[ing] anywhere that I know the people needed the Gospel I'd go. I remember going to a church one day. When I got there , there was a man up a tree, ringing a bell, when I got out there (I started early)[,] and I went on up to [that] the church. Had a lot of children there and he got on [up] in there and [for] had a little Sunday school, and after Sunday school, why I talked to the children a little and [just] asked about the service, and he told me, he says, "Why, I don't know nothing about the service. [Why, [?], I [?]] [?] tell you the [?] about [?], says [?] a [?] When I leave here, I [just go on down] 'm going to a place [?] have to gambole, but I just don't want the children to be without Sunday school here just started a Sunday school here [?] [?]. I know the[ir] folks who [and going] claim to be [good] Christians aound there. I visited some of their homes and talked to them. They didn't think about going Reverend Roe. Reel 2. P. 5 to church." That man, the gambler, was teaching the children. Hm, Hm! We find lots of things that would surprise us, going out like that, you know, way out in the [wilderness[ rurals sometimes. A: People sort of {brutalized?) about their experiences. They just don't care anymore. R: They just don't care. Well, they forget Well, they don't have no one to preach the Gospel to them. they don't see anything but something wrong, [There] Wherefore, they forget about ...that's why [I didn't] they did need the preacher [then] there. Now, then, I continued, you know, going and preaching. Finally [The] Baptist denomination, they [just] kinda took [awhole] holt to me because of faithfulness [ my face, I guess]. and they made me a Sunday school missionary. Why then, I travelled around and got acquainted. So pretty soon a church, a little church called me, it [probably] had six members....Well, I taken the [t? to] church, and I was ordained [all day] there. And I run a revival [little while] there and I taken about eighteen people, and I had a minister to baptize [them] um for me, to be my pastor, and I made me some deacons & things and got going. and I'll tell you about that - I belonged to the Bethlehem Baptist Church at that time and they refused to recognize the call [that] and ordain me. And I had a dream, and in the dream I went down [to] in a kind of a [wal?ing] swampy place and there was a stream of water. And I walked around that steam, and sometime there would be nice clear holes of water and then [right there, they'd] where it would run over, you know, and there'd be a little stream with muddy roo6s and things stagnant [running] in it. And I'd find another clear hole and it would go like that, and I looked up along the banks -- it was high banks- and I'd see [see the] cedar trees toing. I went up and got one of those cedars [seeds], and I carried it down in the south part of town, and I set it out where [there wasn't any tree' that was in a dream, and it grew and flourished. Reverend Roe. Reel 2. P. 6 Well, when they refused to ordain me, I went to this church that I had the dream about. They ordained me. I went on and taken my church, and I moved that church down where I planted that tree. And that church growed, and before the people knew what I was doing there, I had a church equal to nearly any church in the city. Yes, sir, there was something that led me, you know. A: What did you think the dream meant? What did those little clear pools of water mean, did you think? R: I think that meant my ministry of life -- sometimes things would be clear and sometimes muddy; I believe that was what it meant. And it's been like that. A: And why do you think you went down in the south part of town? R: Well, my dream. Yeah, and because I dreamed that and set a tree out down there. Well, I didn't have that in mind when I went, but after I went and church began to grow, you know, and thrive, then it come to me about that tree, and I said "Well that was the Lord leading me down there, I guess." there until I got ready to go -- I was called to another church and left. Other ministers came behind me and they said it was a mighty good church. So, before I went, I come back for the Shaman, a a preacher had split the Bethlehem church, taken this little churh off from it, you know, and that was why they would recognize the call, when they called me. So, after I had built the church they called the preacher and they fell out with him, he'd taken sick, and they sent him out of the pulpit right on the street, on the cot, when he was able to go -- the deacons did. Soon after then, they lost the church and this church that I built there and they bought and then it's a good church, thriving and well. Yes. A: Well, after all, it proves that the Lord was leading you Reverand Roe. Reel 2. P. 7 R: And every place I've gone since then, I've built a church -- coming along fine. A: How many have you bu ilt all together? do you know? R: Well, seven in Texas, and, well, I might say, two in Oklahoma Reverend Roe Reel 2 p. 1 I began -- well, I asked the livense topreach, ad they wouldn't allow me to speak in the church but there was a woman, very sick, and she to hear a service. They sent me out there, and one of the deacons came with me. I rode a mule bareback. I went out and there was a few people around. So I had a song and prayer. The old deacon prayed, and I had taken as my text, I dont remember the verse, jut the second chapter of James -- "If there is any sick among you, call for the help of the church. Leth them pray for you, all of them, and they shall save the sick." I spoke from that text; I don't remember anything I said, but when I kind co me to myself, I just talked. The people was all shedding tezars around me, and I couldn't say what I'd done. The old deacon there got ready and we went back, and he told them that priest that is was about the finest servicehe ever done hear, and then they had me the preacher in the church. Some men came in to make fun -- it was in the Territory, Indian Territory and it was awful wild up there. They taken seat in front of the pulpit -- "We're gonna have some fun out of him." And I taken them out of the pulpit. There were white or colore d. Oh those, they were colored, Indian, they been there a long time. Well, then they tried to call me to their church but I wouldn't accept it because the man that was pastoring there, you know, he likes for me topreach and I wouldn8t accept the church. Then I returned back because I was said to be the best preacher up in that part of the country, and I knew that was no place for me. I had to be where there was something for me to preach about. I come on back -- but let me tell you this story. There was someting happened there before I left there that I have never been able to understand. Now yyou had to make a monthly report, the Reverend Roe. Reel2 p. 2 teachers did, you know, then, and my wife had been teaching and I assisted her in making that report each month, and a woman came to take her place after she had to leave and go home, and she invited me out to help her pastor - I'd been accustomed to that, you know. I went outthere that night and I stayed til I guess around eleven o'clock, and I started home. I was bachelor; my wife had gone, you know, and I got a little ways and looked back and there was a light, the rays of a light, shining in back across the road behind me. It kinda made me feel funny because I could look each ways and c uldn't see no light and I culdn't see why there would be the rays of alight when there was no light. I went on, thinking about it,looked up, and it was shining in front of me. Now then it was behind me and before me. And I kind felt I was ina dream or something. I woked up and I looked down at the gravels in the light, and it was just boulder, just like yo u see a shadow, just boulder. The shadow was jusy bordered; it was just like the lightness was just up to he e, just bordered, you see, and I looked at that light, and I stopped; I just didn't know what to think about it, and f nally I just stepped in it, and when I did, it just seemed like something come up just like when your foot go to sleep, you know, you had that happen like tha, and I got on my knees and I prayed I don't know how long and I pray s and finalyy I said, "WEll, I don't know. Maybe so e thing gonna happen to me." And I got up and something just seemed tlike to say to me as you ought to have pulled off your shoes. And Isaid, "Lord, you know, I did n't know." That's what I said. I got back in there, but I pulled off my shoes, and I prayed again, and then when I got up, I walked, I walked a little piece and I looked back, and it was still there. I walked a few more steps and I looked back, and it was gone. I went on home. Soon after that I left there, and came back to Sherman, and I was asked to Reverend Roe. Reel 2. P. 3 to go out by my pastor and carry on for [*the revival*] [a while] until he could come. I went ot there on Sunday, you know, and there was Monday and Tuesday and he came Wednesday. Well, the feeling that came over me when I was in that light, it came back to me, and, you know, I wasn't no preacher then, but the people just couldn't stand the (heart?) with the hall and horn. What happened to them, what did they do? I don't know; they just shouted and calling out, and it went on that way each nightuntil the pastor come. Well, he was really a preacher, and when he come and started, the feeling just died. We didn't have any such service after he came and take over, and that have followed me since. Whenever that feeling come on me now, and I'm preaching, it seems to just sway the folks. Well, that strong light that just ordinary. I think that sometimes that's one of the reasons folks say I'm a great preacher. It doesn't come over me all the time, but at times it comes on me. A: How do you do -- I mean how do you describe that? What do you think it is in yourself? R: I couldn't think of anything it could be but the Holy Spirit. I just don't see anything else it could be with that effect. I just don't seem to be all together like myself. A: You don't remember then afterwards just what you've been doing or saying when the Holy Spirit is coming down in that way. R: I don't remember it; no, sir, I don't. And often I goto my pulipit and really don't know what I'm gonna say. I just take my text and I start to talking, and just seems things just come to me. And another thing, I just don't feel, you know, that I'm gonna be able to preach a sermon worthwhile. In fact, I just always have that Reverend Roe. Reel 2, P. 4 humble feeling about me, and I'm never anxious to go ahead of nobody and things. Just when my time comes, I just get up and address the camp, and if that feeling comes over me, why, that's just all right. Now, I've had some very hard times tin my ministry because after I began preaching I'd go wherever I read. I'm a place for suffereing for the Gospel I'd go, I'd walk. I had walked as high as twelve miles on Sunday morning and preached all day and wouldn't get a meal, and sometimes I would have to stay all night. And I have gone through the feeling put here to call and cat along with it. And after I'd take that call and eat it to kinda satisfy my stomach. A: The folks wouldn't even give you anything to eat? They didn't want you, or they were too poor, or what? R: I think they were mostly too poor, and they had -- Of course a lot of people who worked on white folkkk'ses farms had to get all their food from the white folksand on some cases they didn't allow them to feed nobody, and that might have been the reason, you know; I didn't ask. I o nly went there to serve and I did that, and would have to walk back sometimes, hungry. That had happened to me more than once. Lots of times. But it didn't stop me, I would still go ; anywhere that I know the poeple needed the Gospel I'd go. I remember going to a chruch one day -- when I got there , there was a man up a tree, ringing a bell, when I got/out there (I started early), and I went on up to that church. Had a lot of children there and he got on up there for Sunday school, and after Sunday school, why I talked to the chi ldren a little and just about the service, and he told me ,he says, "Why, I don't know nothing about service. Why, Mister, I gamble. When I leave here, I just go down to gambble, but I just don't want the children to be without Sunday school here. I know their folks who are going to be good Christians around there. I visited some of their homes and talked to them. I dodn't think about going Reverend Roe. Reel 2. P. 5 to church." That man, the gambler, was teaching the children. Hm, Hm! We find lots of things that would surprise us, going out like that/, you know way out in the wilderness sometimes. A: People sort of (brutalize?) about their experiences. They just don't care anymore. R: They just don't care. Well, they don't have no one to preach the Gospel to them. They don't see anythi ng but something wrong, therefore, they forget about . . . That's why they did need the preacher then. Now, then, I continued, you know, going and preaching. The Baptist denomination, they just kinda took awhole to me because of my face, I guess, and they made me a Sunday schol missionary. Why then, I travelled around and go acquainted. So pretty soon, a c[*h*]urch, a little church, it probably had six members . . . Well, I take them to church, and I was all day there. And I run a little while there, and I taken about eighteen people, and I had a minister to baptize them for me, to by my pastor, and then I made me some deacons and got going. And I'll tell you about that -- I belonged to the Bethlehem Baptist Church at that time, and they refused to recognize the call and ordain me. And I had a dream, and in that dream I went down to a kind of a walking-place, and there was a stream of water. And I walked around that stream, and sometimes there would be nice clear holes of water and then right there, they'd run over, you know, and there'd be a little stream with muddy roo6s and things running in it. And I8d find another clear hole and it would go like that, and I looked up along the banks- it was high banks- and I8d see , see the trees growing. I went up and got one of those seeds, and I carried it down in the southpart of town, and I set it out where there wasn't any trees, and it grew and flourished. Reverend Roe, Reel 2, P. 6 Well, when they refused to ordain me, I went to this church that I had the dream about. They ordained me. I went on and taken that church, and I moved that church down where I planted that tree. And that church growed, and before the people knew what I was doing there, I had a church equal to any church in the city. Yes, sir, there was something that led me and led me. A: What did you think the dream meant? What did those little queer pools of water mean, did you think? R: I think that meant 'twas my ministry of life -- sometimes things would be clear and sometimes muddy; I believe that was what it meant. And it's been like that. A: And why do you think you went down in the suth part of town? R: Well, my dream. Yeah, and because I dreamed I set a tree out down there. Well, I didn't have that in mind when I went, but after I went, the church began to grow, you know, and thrive. Then it come to me about that tree, and the Lord leads me now, I guess. And so I built the church down there, and I just had a fine time until I got ready to go -- I was called to another church and left. Other ministers came to hire me, and they said it was a mighty good church. So, before I went, I come back for to see the church. There's a preacher had split the church, taken this little church off from it, you know, and that was why they would recognize the call, you see. So, after I'd built that church down on the corner, the preacher and they fell out, he'd taken sick, and they sent him out of the pulpit right on the street, on the cot, when he was able to go -- the deacons did. Soon after that, they lost the church, and this church that I built and they own it now. And it's a good church, thriving and well. Yes. A: Well, after all, it proves that the Lord was leading you Reverand Roe. Reel 2. P. 7 R: And every place I've gone since then, I've built a church -- coming along fine. A: How many have you built all together? do you know? R: Well, seven in Texas, add, well, I might say, two in Oklahoma Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P .1 (First Sermon) R: I began -- well, I asked for license to preach and they wouldn't allow me to speak in the church but there was a woman, very sick, and she wanted to hear service. They sent me out there, and one of the deacons carried me. I rode a mule bareback. I went out and there was a few people around her. So I had a song and prayer. The old deacon prayed, I don't remember the verse, and I haken for my text, I think, it's the second chapter of James -- "If there is any sick among you, call for the elders of the church. Let them pray for you, anointing you with oil, and the prayers of faith shall save the sick." I spoke from that text; I don't remember anything I said, it seemed like something else had holt to me, but when I kinda come to myself, I just talked. The people was all shedding tears all around me, and I couldn't say what I had done. The old deacon then got ready and we went back, and he told them that I preached just about as fine a sermon as he'd want to hear. And then they had me to preach it in the church. So men came in to make fun -- it was in the Territory, Indian Territory, and the people was awful wild up there -- they taken seat in front of the pulpit -- "We're gonna have some fun out of him." And I taken one of them in the church that night. A: These were some white men or were these all colored? (Best preacher) R: Oh those, they were colored, Indian, half Indian Well, then they tried to call me to that church but I wouldn't accept it because the men that was pastoring, you know, he license me to preach and I wouldn't accept the church. Then I returned back home because I was said to be the best preacher up in that part of the country and I knew that was no place for me. I had to be where there was something for me to reach up after. I come on back to Texas but let me tell you this story. . . There was something happened just before I left there that I have never been able to understand. Now you have to make a monthly report -- the teachers did, you know, there -- and my wife had been teaching and I assisted her in Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 2 (Vision) making that report each month, and a woman came to take her place after she had to leave and go home, and she invited me out to help her as she hadn't been accustomed to that, you know. I went out there that night and I stayed till I guess round eleven o'clock, and I started home. I was bachin' it; my wife had gone, you know. And I got a little ways from her house and for some cause, I don't know, I looked back and there was a light shinin, the rays of a light, across the road behind me. It kinda made me feel funny because I could look each way, couldn't see no light and I couldn't see why there would be the rays of a light and there was no light. I went on, thinking about it, and looked up, and it was shining in front of me. Now then it was behind me and before me. And I just felt like I was almost in a dream or something. I walked out and I looked down at the gravels in the light, and it was just bordered, just like you see a shadow, just bordered. And I looked at that light, and I stopped; I just didn't know what to think about it, and finally I just stepped in it, and when I did, it just seemed like just something just come up just like when your foot go to sleep, you know, you had that happen, I guess, and I knelt down in it and I prayed, I don't know how long I was in that place and finally I said, "Well, I don't know. Maybe something gonna happen to me. Don't know what it is." And I get up and when I stepped out of it, it just seemed like to say to me, "You ought to pulled off your shoes." And I said, "Lord, you know, I didn't know." That's what I said. I got back in it, but I never did think about pulling my shoes off, and I prayed again, and then when I got up and walked out of it again, I walked a little piece and looked back, and it was still there. I walked a few more steps and I looked back, and it was gone. I went on home. Soon after that I left there and come back to Sherman, and I was asked Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 3 to go out by my pastor and carry on a revival until he could come. I went out there on Sunday, you know, and there was Sunday, Monday and Tuesday and he came Wednesday. Well, the feeling that came over me when I was in that light, it came back to me, and, you know, the people just -- I wasn't no preacher then, but the people just couldn't stand me hardly. We had to haul them home. A: What happened to them, what did they do? (First revival) R: I don't know; they just shouted and talking out, and it went on that way each night until the pastor come. Well, he was really a good preacher, and when he come and started, the meeting just died. We didn't have any such service any more after he came and take over. And that have followed me since. Whenever that feeling comes on me now, if I'm preaching, it seems to just sway the folks. When that's gone, why - just ordinary. And I think that sometime that's one of the reasons that some folks say I'm a great preacher. It doesn't come on me all the time, but just at times it comes on me that way. A: How do you do -- I mean how do you describe that? What do you think it is in yourself? R: I couldn't think of anything it could be but the Holy Spirit. I just don't seem to be all together at myself. A: You don't remember afterwards just what you've been doing or saying after the Holy Spirit is come down that way. (Holy Spirit inspires sermons) R: I don't remember it; no, sir, I don't. And often I go to my pulpit and really don't know what I'm gonna say. And I just take my text and I start to talking, and just seems things go to coming to me. And another thing, I just don't feel, you know, that I'm gonna be able to preach a sermon worthwhile. In fact, I just always have that humble feeling about me and I'm Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 4 never anxious to go ahead of nobody - things like that. Just when my time comes, I just get up and do the best I can if that feeling comes over me, why, it's just all right. [ * [stinerait] preaching * ] Now, I have had some very hard times in my ministry because after I began preaching I'd go wherever I heard of a place that was suffering for the Gospel, I'd go if I had to walk. I had walked as high as twelve miles on Sunday morning and preached all day and wouldn't get a meal. And sometimes I would have to stay all night and I have gone through the field and pulled years of corn and carried along with me. And after I'd go, I'd take that ear of corn and eat it to kinda satisfy my stomach. A: [ * Hard times as preacher * ] The folks wouldn't even give you anything to eat? They didn't want you there, or they were too poor to feed you, or what? R: I think they were mostly too poor, and then -- of course a lot of people who worked on white folk'ses farms hard to get all their food from the white folks and on some cases didn't allow them to feed nobody, and that might have been the reason, you know, I didn't ask. I only went there to serve and I did that and would have to walk back sometimes, hungry. That had happened to me more than once, Lots of times. But it didn't stop me, I would still go, anywhere that I know the people needed the Gospel I'd go. I remember going to a church one day. When I got there, there was a man up a tree, ringing a bell, when I got out there (I started early) and I went up to the church. Had a lot of children there and he got on in there and had a little Sunday school, and after Sunday school, why I talked to the children a little and asked about the servie, and he told me, he says, "Why, I don't know nothing about service. I'll tell you the truth about me," - says - "I'm a gambler. When I leave here, I'm going to a place over here to gamble, but I just don't want the children to be without Sunday school here. I just started a Sunday school here for the children. I know the folks who claim to be Christians Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 5 around there. I visited some of their homes and talked to them. They didn't think about going to church." That man, the gambler, was teaching the children. Hm, Hm! We find lots of things that would surprise us, going out like that, you know, way out in the rurals sometimes. A: People sort of brutallize about their experiences. They just don't care any more. R: They just don't care. Well, they forget. Well, they don't have no one to preach the Gospel to them. They don't see anything but something wrong, wherefore, they forget about... That's why they did need the preacher there. [*Sunday School missionary*] Now, then, I continued, you know, going and preaching. Finally, the Baptist denomination, they kinda took holt to me because of my faithfulness, and they made me a Sunday school missionary . Why then, I travelled around and got acquainted. So pretty soon, a church, a little church, called me, it had six members... Well, I taken the church, and I was ordained there. And I run a revival there, and I taken about eighteen people, and I had a minister to baptize um for me, to be my pastor, and then I made me some deacons and things and got going. [*Dream about establishment of church*] And I'll tell you about that -- I belonged to the Bethlehem Baptist Church at that time and they refused to recognize the call and ordain me. And I had a dream, and in the dream I went down in a kind of a swampy place and there was a stream of water. And I walked around that stream, and sometimes there would be nice clear holes of water and then where it would run over, you know, and there'd be a little stream with muddy roots and things stagnant in it. And I'd find another clear hole and it would go like that, and I looked up along the banks - it was high banks - and I'd see, cedar trees growing. I went up and got one of those cedars and I carried it down in the south part of town, and I set it out where that was in a dream, and it grew and flourished. Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 6 Well, when they refused to ordain me, I went to this church that I had the dream about. They ordained me. I went on and taken my church, and I moved that church down where I planted that tree. And that church growed and before the people knew what I was doing there I had a church equal to nearly any church in the city. Yes, sir, there was something that led me, you know. A: What did you think the dream meant? What did those little clear pools of water mean, did you think? R: I think that meant my ministry of life - sometimes things would be clear and sometimes muddy; I believe that was what it meant. And it's been like that. A: And why do you think you went down in the south part of town? (The church succeeds) R: Well, my dream. Yeah and because I dreamed that and set a tree out down there. Well, I didn't have that in mind when I went, but after I went and the church began to grow, you know, and thrive, then it come to me about that tree and I said, "Well, that was the Lord leading me down there, I guess." And so I built the church down there, and I just had a fine time there until I got ready to go -- I was called to another church and left. Other ministers came behind me and they said it was a mighty good church. So, before I went, I come back for to Sherman, a preacher had split the Bethlehem church, taken this little church off from it, you know, and that was why they would recognize the call, when they called me. So, after I had built that church they called the preacher and they fell out with him, he'd taken sick, and they sent him out of the pulpit right on the street, on the cot, when he was able to go -- the deacons did. Soon after there they lost the church and this church that I built there and they bought and they own it now. And it's a good church, thriving and well. Yes. A: Well, after all, it proves that the Lord was leading you. R: And every place I've gone since then, I've built a church -- coming along fine. Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 7 A: How many have you built all together, do you know? R: Well, seven in Texas, and, well, I might say, two in Oklahoma Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 1 (First Sermon) R: I began-- well, I asked for license to preach and they wouldn't allow me to speak in the church but there was a woman, very sick, and she wanted to hear service. They sent me out there, and one of the deacons carried me. I rode a mule bareback. I went out and there was a few people around her. So I had a song and prayer. The old deacon prayed, I don't remember the verse, and I haken for my text, I think, it's the second chapter of James -- "If there is any sick among you, call for the elders of the church. Let them pray for you, anointing you with oil, and the prayers of faith shall save the sick." I spoke from that text; I don't remember anything I said, it seemed like something else had holt to me, but when I kinda come to myself, I just talked. The people was all shedding tears all around me, and I couldn't say what I had done. The old deacon then got ready and we went back, and he told them that I preached just about as fine a sermon as he'd want to hear. And then they had me to preach it in the church. So men came in to make fun -- it was in the Territory, Indian Territory, and the people was awful wild up there -- they taken seat in front of the pulpit -- "We're gonna have some fun out of him." And I taken one of them in the church that night. A: These were some white men or were these all colored? (Best preacher) R: Oh those, they were colored, Indian, half Indian Well, then they tried to call me to that church but I wouldn't accept it because the man that was pastoring, you know, he license me to preach and I wouldn't accept the church. Then I returned back home because I was said to be the best preacher up in that part of the country and I knew that was no place for me. I had to be where there was something for me to reach up after. I come on back to Texas but let me tell you this story. . . There was something happened just before I left there that I have never been able to understand. Now you have to make a monthly report -- the teachers did, you know, there -- and my wife had been teaching and I assisted her in Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 2 (Vision) making that report each month, and a woman came to take her place after she had to leave and go home, and she invited me out to help her as she hadn't been accustomed to that, you know. I went out there that night and I stayed till I guess round eleven o'clock, and I started home. I was bachin' it; my wife had gone, you know. And I got a little ways from her house and for some cause, I don't know, I looked back and there was a light shinin, the rays of a light, across the road behind me. It kinda made me feel funny because I could look each way, couldn't see no light and I couldn't see why there would be the rays of a light and there was no light. I went on, thinking about it, and looked up, and it was shining in front of me. Now then it was behind me and before me. And I just felt like I was almost in a dream or something. I walked out and I looked down at the gravels in the light, and it was just bordered, just like you see a shadow, just bordered. And I looked at that light, and I stopped; I just didn't know what to think about it, and finally I just stepped in it, and when I did, it just seemed like just something just come up just like when your foot go to sleep, you know, you had that happen, I guess, and I knelt down in it and I prayed, I don't know how long I was in that place and finally I said, "Well, I don't know. Maybe something gonna happen to me. Don't know what it is." And I got up and when I stepped out of it, it just seemed like to say to me, "You ought to pulled off your shoes." And I said, "Lord, you know, I didn't know." That's what I said. I got back in it, but I never did think about pulling my shoes off, and I prayed again, and then when I got up and walked out of it again, I walked a little piece and looked back, and it was still there. I walked a few more steps and I looked back, and it was gone. I went on home. Soon after that I left there and came back to Sherman, and I was asked Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 3 to go out by my pastor and carry on a revival until he could come. I went out there on Sunday, you know, and there was Sunday, Monday and Tuesday and he came Wednesday. Well, the feeling that came over me when I was in that light, it came back to me, and, you know, the people just -- I wasn't no preacher then, but the people just couldn't stand me hardly. We had to haul them home. A: What happened to them, what did they do? (First revival.) R: I don't know; they just shouted and talking out, and it went on that way each night until the pastor come. Well, he was really a good preacher, and when he come and started, the meeting just died. We didn't have any such service any more after he came and take over. And that have followed me since. Whenever that feeling comes on me now, if I'm preaching, it seems to just sway the folks. When that's gone, why - just ordinary. And I think that sometime that's one of the reasons that some folks say I'm a great preacher. It doesn't come on me all the time, but just at times it comes on me that way. A: How do you do -- I mean how do you describe that? What do you think it is in yourself? R: I couldn't think of anything it could be but the Holy Spirit. I just don't seem to be all together at myself. A: You don't remember afterwards just what you've been doing or saying after the Holy Spirit is come down that way. (Holy Spirit inspires sermons.) R: I don't remember it; no, sir, I don't. And often I go to my pulpit and really don't know what I'm gonna say. And I just take my text and I start to talking, and just seems things go to coming to me. And another thing, I just don't feel, you know, that I'm gonna be able to preach a sermon worthwhile. In fact, I just always have that humble feeling about me and I'm Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 4 [*Itinerant preaching*] never anxious to go ahead of nobody - things like that. Just when my time comes, I just get up and do the best I can and if that feeling comes over me, why, it's just all right. Now, I have had some very hard times in my ministry because after I began preaching I'd go wherever I heard of a place that was suffering for the Gospel, I'd go it I had to walk. I had walked as high as twelve miles on Sunday morning and preached all day and wouldn't get a meal. And sometimes I would have to stay all night and I have gone through the field and pulled years of corn and carried along with me. And after I'd go, I'd take that ear of corn and eat it to kinda satisfy my stomach. A: The folks wouldn't even give you anything to eat? They didn't want you there, or they were too poor to feed you, or what? [*Hard times as preacher*] R: I think they were mostly too poor, and then -- of course a lot of people who worked on white folk'ses farms had to get all their food from the white folks and on some cases didn't allow them to feed nobody, and that might have been the reason, you know, I didn't ask. I only went there to serve and I did that and would have to walk back sometimes, hongry. That had happened to me more than once. Lots of times. But it didn't stop me, I would still go, anywhere that I know the people needed the Gospel I'd go. I remember going to a church one day. When I got there, there was a man up a tree, ringing a bell, when I got out there (I started early) and I went on up to the church. Had a lot of children there and he got on in there and had a little Sunday school, and after Sunday school, why I talked to the children a little and asked about the service, and he told me, he says, "Why, I don't know nothing about service. I'll tell you the truth about me," - says - "I'm a gambler. When I leave here, I'm going to a place over here to gamble, but I just don't want the children to be without Sunday school here. I just started a Sunday school here for the children. I know the folks who claim to be Christians Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 5 around there. I visited some of their homes and talked to them. They didn't think about going to church." That man, the gambler, was teaching the children. Hm, Hm! We find lots of things that would surprise us, going out like that, you know, way out in the rurals sometimes. A: People sort of brutalilize about their experiences. They just don't care any more. (Sunday school missionary) R: They just don't care. Well, they forgot. Well, they don't have no one to preach the Gospel to them. They don't see anything but something wrong, wherefore, they forgot about. . . That's why they did need the preacher there. Now, then, I continued, you know, going and preaching. Finally, the Baptist denomination, they kinda took holt to me because of my faithfulness, and they made me a Sunday school missionary. Why then, I travelled around and got acquainted. So pretty soon, a church, a little church, called me, it had six members. . . Well, I taken the church, and I was ordained there. And I run a revival there, and I taken about eighteen people, and I had a minister to baptize um for me, to be my pastor, and then I made me some deacons and things and got going. (Dream about establishment of church) And I'll tell you about that -- I belonged to the Bethlehem Baptist Church at that time and they refused to recognize the call and ordain me. And I had a dream, and in the dream I went down in a kind of a swampy place and there was a stream of water. And I walked around that stream, and sometimes there would be nice clear holes of water and then where it would run over, you know, and there'd be a little stream with muddy roots and things stagnant in it. And I'd find another clear hole and it would go like that, and I looked up along the banks - it was high banks - and I'd see, cedar trees growing. I went up and got one of those cedars and I carried it down in the south part of town, and I set it out where that was in a dream, and it grew and flourished. Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 6 Well, when they refused to ordain me, I went to this church that I had the dream about. They ordained me. I went on and taken my church, and I moved that church down where I planted that tree. And that church growed and before the people knew what I was doing there I had a church equal to nearly any church in the city. Yes, sir, there was something that led me, you know. A: What did you think that dream meant? What did those little clear pools of water mean, did you think? R: I think that meant my ministry of life - sometimes things would be clear and sometimes muddy; I believe that was what it meant. And it's been like that. A: And why do you think you went down in the south part of town? (The church succeeds) R: Well, my dream. Yeah and because I dreamed that and set a tree out down there. Well, I didn't have that in mind when I went, but after I went and the church began to grow, you know, and thrive, then it come to me about that tree and I said, "Well, that was the Lord leading me down there, I guess." And so I built the church down there, and I just had a fine time there until I got ready to go -- I was called to another church and left. Other ministers came behind me and they said it was a mighty good church. So, before I went. I come back for to Sherman, a preacher had split the Bethlehem church, taken this little church off from it, you know, and that was why they would recognize the call, when they called me. So, after I had built that church they called the preacher and they fell out with him, he'd taken sick, and they sent him out of the pulpit right on the street, on the cot, when he was able to go -- the deacons did. Soon after there they lost the church and this church that I built there and they bought and they own it now. And it's a good church, thriving and well. Yes. A: Well, after all, it proves that the Lord was leading you. R: And every place I've gone since then, I've built a church -- coming along fine. Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 7 A: How many have you built all together, do you know? R: Well, seven in Texas, and, well, I might say, two in Oklahoma Reverend Roe - Reel 2. - P. 1 (First sermon) R: I began -- well, I asked for license to preach and they wouldn't allow me to speak in the church but there was a woman, very sick, and she wanted to hear service. They sent me out there, and one of the deacons carried me. I rode a mule bareback. I went out and there was a few people around her. So I had a song and prayer. The old deacon prayed, I don't remember the verse, and I taken for my text, I think, it's the second chapter of James -- "If there is any sick among you, call for the elders of the church. Let them pray for you, anointing you with oil, and the prayers of faith shall save the sick." I spoke from that text; I don't remember anything I said, it seemed like something else had holt to me, but when I kinda come to myself, I just talked. The people was all shedding tears all around me, and I couldn't say what I had done. The old deacon then got ready and we went back, and he told them that I preached just about as fine a sermon as he'd want to hear. And then they had me to preach it in the church. So men came in to make fun -- it was in the Territory, Indian Territory, and the people was awful wild up there -- they taken seat in front of the pulpit -- "We're gonna have some fun out of him." And I taken one of them in the church that night. A: These were some white men or were these all colored? (Best preacher) R: Oh those, they were colored, Indian, half Indian Well, then they tried to call me to that church but I wouldn't accept it because the man that was pastoring, you know, he license me to preach and I wouldn't accept the church. Then I returned back home because I was said to be the best preacher up in that part of the country and I knew that was no place for me. I had to be where there was something for me to reach up after. I come on back to Texas but let me tell you this story. . . . There was something happened just before I left there that I have never been able to understand. Now you have to make a monthly report -- the teachers did, you know, there -- and my wife had been teaching and I assisted her in Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 2 (Vision-) making that report each month, and a woman came to take her place after she had to leave and go home, and she invited me out to help her as she hadn't been accustomed to that, you know. I went out there that night and I stayed till I guess round eleven o'clock, and I started home. I was bachin' it; my wife had gone, you know. And I got a little ways from her house and for some cause, I don't know, I looked back and there was a light shinin, the rays of a light, across the road behind me. It kinda made me feel funny because I could look each way, couldn't see no light and I couldn't see why there would be the rays of a light and there was no light. I went on, thinking about it, and looked up, and it was shining in front of me. Now then it was behind me and before me. And I just felt like I was almost in a dream or something. I walked out and I looked down at the gravels in the light, and it was just bordered, just like you see a shadow, just bordered. And I looked at that light, and I stopped; I just didn't know what to think about it, and finally I just stepped in it, and when I did, it just seemed like just something just come up just like when your foot go to sleep, you know, you had that happen, I guess, and I knelt down in it and I prayed, I don't know how long I was in that place and finally I said, "Well, I don't know. Maybe something gonna happen to me. Don't know what it is." And I got up and when I stepped out of it, it just seemed like to say to me, "You ought to pulled off your shoes." And I said, "Lord, you know, I didn't know." That's what I said. I got back in it, but I never did think about pulling my shoes off, and I prayed again, and then when I got up and walked out of it again, I walked a little piece and looked back, and it was still there. I walked a few more steps and I looked back, and it was gone. I went on home. Soon after that I left there and came back to Sherman, and I was asked Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 3 to go out by any pastor and carry on a revival until he could come. I went out there on Sunday, you know, and there was Sunday, Monday and Tuesday and he came Wednesday. Well, the feeling that came over me when I was in that light, it came back to me, and, you know, the people just -- I wasn't no preacher then, but the people just couldn't stand me hardly. We had to haul them home. A: What happened to them, what did they do? R: I don't know; they just shouted and talking out, and it went on that way each night until the pastor come. Well, he was really a good preacher, and when he come and started, the meeting just died. We didn't have any such service any more after he came and take over. And that have followed me since. Whenever that feeling comes on me now, if I'm preaching, it seems to just sway the folks. When that's gone, why - just ordinary. And I think that sometime that's one of the reasons that some folks say I'm a great preacher. It doesn't come on me all the time, but just at times it comes on me that way. A: How do you do -- I mean how do you describe that? What do you think it is in yourself? R: I couldn't think of anything it could be but the Holy Spirit. I just don't seem to be all together at myself. A: You don't remember afterwards just what you've been doing or saying after the Holy Spirit is come down that way. [*Holy Spirit [?] Sermons] R: I don't remember it; no, sir, I don't. And often I go to my pulpit and really don't know what I'm gonna say. And I just take my text and I start to talking, and just seems things go to coming to me. And another thing, I just don't feel, you know, that I'm gonna be able to preach a sermon worth- while. In fact I just always have that humble feeling about me and I'm Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 4 [*Itinerant preaching*] never anxious to go ahead of nobody - things like that. Just when my time comes, I just get up and do the best I can and if that feeling comes over me, why, it's just all right. Now, I have had some very hard times in my ministry because after I began preaching I'd go wherever I heard of a place that was suffering for the Gospel, I'd go if I had to walk. I had walked as high as twelve miles on Sunday morning and preached all day and wouldn't get a meal. And sometimes I would have to stay all night and I have gone through the field and pulled years of corn and carried along with me. And after I'd go, I'd take that ear of corn and eat it to kinda satisfy my stomach. A: The folks wouldn't even give you anything to eat? They didn't want you there, or they were too poor to feed you, or what? [*Hard times as preacher*] R: I think they were mostly too poor, and then -- of course a lot of people who worked on white folk'ses farms had to get all their food from the white folks and on some cases didn't allow them to feed nobody, and that might have been the reason, you know, I didn't ask. I only went there to serve and I did that and would have to walk back sometimes, hongry. That had happened to me more than once. Lots of time. But it didn't stop me, I would still go, anywhere that I know the people needed the Gospel I'd go. I remember going to a church one day. When I got there, there was a man up a tree, ringing a bell, when I got out there (I started early) and I went on up to the church. Had a lot of children there and he got on in there and had a little Sunday school, and after Sunday school, why I talked to the children a little and asked about the service, and he told me, he says, "Why, I don't know nothing about service. I'll tell you the truth about me," - says - "I'm a gambler. When I leave here, I'm going to a place over here to gamble, but I just don't want the children to be without Sunday school here. I just started a Sunday school here for the children. I know the folks who claim to be Christians Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 5 around there. I visited some of their homes and talked to them. They didn't think about going to church." That man, the gambler, was teaching the children. Hm, Hm! We find lots of things that would surprise us, going out like that, you know, way out in the rurals sometimes. A: People sort of brutallize about their experiences. They just don't care any more. [*Sunday school missionary*] R: They just don't care. Well, they forgot. Well, they don't have no one to preach the Gospel to them. They don't see anything but something wrong, wherefore, they forget about. . . That's why they did need the preacher there. Now, then, I continued, you know, going and preaching. Finally, the Baptist denomination, they kinda took holt to me because of my faithfulness, and they made me a Sunday school missionary. Why then, I travelled around and got acquainted. So pretty soon, a church, a little church, called me, it had six members. . . Well, I taken the church, and I was ordained there. And I run a revival there, and I taken about eighteen people, and I had a minister to baptize um for me, to be my pastor, and then I made me some deacons and things and got going. [*Dream about establishment of church*] And I'll tell you about that -- I belonged to the Bethlehem Baptist Church at that time and they refused to recognize the call and ordain me. And I had a dream, and in the dream I went down in a kind of a swampy place and there was a stream of water. And I walked around that stream, and sometimes there would be nice clear holes of water and then where it would run over, you know, and there'd be a little stream with muddy roots and things stagnant in it. And I'd find another clear hole and it would go like that, and I looked up along the banks - it was high banks - and I'd see, cedar trees growing. I went up and got one of those cedars and I carried it down in the south part of town, and I set it out where that was in a dream, and it grew and flourished. Reverend Roe - Reel 2 - P. 6 Well, when they refused to ordain me, I went to this church that I had the dream about. They ordained me. I went on and taken my church, and I moved that church down where I planted that tree. And that church growed and before the people knew what I was doing there I had a church equal to nearly any church in the city. Yes, sir, there was something that led me, you know. A: What did you think the dream meant? What did those little clear pools of water mean, did you think? R: I think that meant my ministry of life - sometimes things would be clear and sometimes muddy; I believe that was what it meant. And it's been like that. A: And why do you think you went down in the south part of town? [*The church succeeds*] R: Well, my dream. Yeah and because I dreamed that and set a tree out down there. Well, I didn't have that in mind when I went, but after I went and the church began to grow, you know, and thrive, then it come to me about that tree and I said, "Well, that was the Lord leading me down there, I guess." And so I built the church down there, and I just had a fine time there until I got ready to go -- I was called to another church and left. Other ministers came behind me and they said it was a mighty good church. So, before I went, I come back for to Sherman, a preacher had split the Bethlehem church, taken this little church off from it, you know, and that was why they would recognize the call, when they called me. So, after I had built that church they called the preacher and they fell out with him, he'd taken sick, and they sent him out of the pulpit right on the street, on the cot, when he was able to go -- the deacons did. Soon after there they lost the church and this church that I built there and they bought and they own it now. And it's a good church, thriving and well. Yes. A: Well, after all, it proves that the Lord was leading you. R: And every place I've gone since then, I've built a church -- coming along fine. Reverand Roe - Reel 2 - P. 7 A: How many have you built all together, do you know? R: Well, seven in Texas, and, well, I might say, two in Oklahoma Transcribed and reviewed by volunteers participating in the By The People project at crowd.loc.gov.