Newspapers, GRASS ROOTS AND COCKLE BURRS- Do You Want This Chair?, LaSalle Parish, La. By Jack Morgan Willis Submitted by: Pat Ezell From the Jena Times - Olla Tullos Signal. Thank You to Jack Willis and The Times -Signal for allowing the following to be added to the Archives. ********************************************** Copyright. All rights reserved. http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://usgwarchives.net/la/lafiles.htm ********************************************** Grass Roots and Cockle Burrs "Do You Want This Chair? When the phone rang, and I answered, the voice on the other end gave away the identity of the caller She was a female, but you'd never guess that if you were hearing that voice for the first time. It was rough and gravelly, and not too far removed from the guttural sounds of Louis "Sachmo" Armstrong. Her whole family sounded gruff like her. She went on to say, "You don't know who this is, do you?" I gave her the answer she was expecting, "Yes I do! I'd recognize that voice in a steel mill". This was a very special person to me. Mary Dee "Jack" Douglas had been reared in the Nebo community, not far from where my Mother called home, and was "almost" family. One reason being, she saved my Mother from drowning, when they were children, while swimming in Hemphill Creek. Jack: My Father and his two brothers were able to homestead their own places, one in the Whitehall community and the other two on the west banks of Hemphill Creek, which was a major accomplishment for a Negro family. When Jack's father was a child, he walked from the Nebo community to near Rhinehart, Louisiana to be tutored by a black schoolteacher named Cora Jane Finnister. By the time he got to her house, it was almost time to turn around and start home. In this way, he was able to achieve a third-grade education, which was much more than many of his race was able to obtain in that day and age, at the turn of the Twentieth Century. Jack: Times was hard around the end of the First World War. And I never will forget my Daddy owed a sum of just over eight dollars in taxes…and he couldn't pay it. There just wasn't no way to make that much money at that particular time. We was in what they later called a recession. My Daddy and his brothers Lucious and Granville lost their places and so did Mr. and Mrs. Jeff Hailey, neighbors of Nick Douglas. One main reason entitled these Black folks to live in Nebo when no other members of their race did, was the presence of Jack's grandmother, "Aunt" Sally Douglas. She was THE midwife of the Nebo and Jena communities. The local Judge from Jena got up in the middle of the night, when his wife's labor pains started, saddled his horse and rode to Nebo to "fetch" her. She told him to go on, that she'd be there when it was time. The Judge was nervously pacing the floor wringing his hands when Aunt Sally drove up in her buggy. He helped her out of the buggy and into the house with her black bag. A healthy baby daughter was delivered about 20 minutes later. She said she'd be there in time, and she was. Jack: After the cyclone blew our house away, and after Papa lost his place, we moved to the Mars Hill community just south of Jena, and that's where I got what schoolin' I got. E.E. and Lil Jones employed various members of the Nick Douglas family in their steam laundry and dry cleaners for years. Some of her folks migrated to California where they remained for the most part. Jack had a cousin named Anthony, who was employed by Richmond Walker at his gristmill and cotton gin located on Mason's Branch in Nebo. The mill/gin were located under the hill from the Dave Shapiro Store and U.S. Post Office. A violent cyclone hit the mill/gin on the afternoon of January 11,1912 and killed Richmond Walker and his son Ervin Moses Walker. It fatally injured Anthony Douglas. He died one month to the day after the storm devastated the Nebo community. Jack's family lost their house along with many Nebo residents. This and the tax burden made them start to relocate to the Jena area. Jack: In later years we lived next to your Uncle Abe Flower's Welding Shop. They (his wife Bertie) give me this chair, that she said belonged to her Mother. She said her sister Alice had bought it for her folks when she started teaching school. So, I want to know, do you want this chair? I didn't have any idea what kind of chair it was, but I jumped at the chance to obtain a keepsake, which had its origins at my grandmother's house. When I got to Jack's house near the new Evergreen Church, she met me on a walker at the door. Considering she'll be 88 years old the day after Christmas, I thought she was doing very well. The chair turned out to be a platform rocker of the 1920s manufacture. Though it's factory made, it is a beautiful representation of the furniture manufacturers skill. The only thing detrimental was the worn, faded original fabric. My Uncle Abe had stabilized the back and arms with a brace on either side, where the original wooden pegs had pulled apart. Restoring it will be easy chore to accomplish, for even me. There is no way to estimate the sentimental value I place on this treasured, nondescript piece of furniture. And I'll always be grateful to this very fine lady for being considerate enough to remember me, and not allowing it to be discarded in a dumpster somewhere. That's what family is all about. Jack Morgan Willis