Biographies: Morris Bernstein, 1932, Winn Parish, LA Submitted by Greggory E. Davies, 120 Ted Price Lane, Winnfield, LA 71483 ********************************************** Copyright. All rights reserved. http://usgwarchives.net/copyright.htm http://usgwarchives.net/la/lafiles.htm ********************************************** From: April 29, 1932 Winnfield News-American Passing In Review This Week We Have Morris Bernstein (by R. W. Oglesby) Morris Bernstein One of the quaintest and best loved citizens Winnfield ever had was uncle Morris Bernstein. While a mere lad, as so many of his countrymen did, he left Germany and came to the United States. In 1852 he established a general mercantile store on the corner of Main and Abel Streets, where Milam's Style Shop is now located. It is said he stayed in his old building until the foundation rotted away, and, in about 1902, he erected the first brick business house in Winnfield. For many years he did a thriving business and accumulated a lot of property which still belongs to the family. He was kind and generous and always willing to lend a helping hand to the needy, but he had things his own way so long, he never got used to competition. He did not like to see his customers going to other stores. On a cold wintry day a colored man stood warming by his fire. He notice that the boy had on a pair of new trousers. "Vare did you get the new pants?," said uncle Morris. "I got them from Mr. George Long," said the negro. "Vell then, you go and warm by Mr. George Long's fire," said uncle Morris. In his old age he usually kept some young man to help him with the store, but he kept a sharp eye on the business. When his clerk got out of pocket and he wanted him he would blow a police whistle which was a signal to come at once. Julian came up to help him out and one day strayed away and uncle Morris gave the signal. Julian had already started towards the store, but deliberately turned and went the other way. When he did come uncle Morris said, "Vell, didn't you hear the whistle?" "Yes sir, I heard it," said Julian. "Vhy didn't you come then?," said uncle Morris. "Because," said Julian, "I am no dog and refuse to obey dog signals." He never used the "vistle: on Julian any more. It is said that while Arnold, the present Mayor of Monroe, was serving his apprenticeship as clerk for uncle Morris, was one day engaged in a game of poker. Uncle Morris walked up to where the game was in progress and observed a pile of dimes in front of Arnold. He reached over and picked them up and said, "Vell, I will take my dimes back to the store where they belong." Pete Bevill, in addition of being uncle Morris' clerk, was Justice of the Peace. Uncle Morris sued a customer before Pete's court, and strange to say, on the trial of the case, Pete decided against him. Uncle Morris felt that he had been outraged by the unjust decision and put fear into Pete, when he said, "Vell, I will yust send to Monroe for Henry and revarse Peter." The potato bugs were going after my potatoes. I went to both drug stores for some paris green, but neither had any. I then thought that perhaps uncle Morris had some, and sure enough he did. I approached Lawson McDonald who was his clerk at that time and in a very low tone asked him if they had any paris green. He said they did. Uncle Morris, who had no doubt been watching me in my unsuccessful pilgrimages to the drug stores said to Lawson, "Vat does the gentleman vant?" "Paris green," said Lawson. "Vell, let me vait on him," said uncle Morris. He did "vait" on me, but I paid a good round price for the paris green. It was worth the price no alone in its bug destroying properties, but in the joy he derived from telling me, not in words, that when I wanted anything in his line, if I would come directly to him, it would not cost me so much. He was small of stature, baldheaded, and the most of the time wore his glasses on top of his head. He had a room in the back end of the store where he slept. His face was a familiar sight in and about the store both day and night. Early one morning, after he became very old, a negro who had been reared in Winnfield, had worked for him and knew his habits, went to the store presumably to make a purchase. While stooping over to get what had been called for, the negro struck him on the head a blow that rendered him unconscious and robbed the cash drawer. Some one happened to be passing by and saw this negro leaving. He was arrested, tried, and sent to the pen for 14 years, the limit of the crime. He served the time, came back to Winnfield, pulled a similar stunt, and I had the pleasure as Judge of sending him up for another 14 years. He is still doing time. Uncle Morris was a splendid citizen. This outrage, but for the quick work of the officers, would have been by a lynching party. The Court was in session, however, and in an hour or so after the assault had been committed, the negro was on his way to the penitentiary. Uncle Morris lived some years afterwards, but was practically an invalid and never went back to the store. This article will no doubt revive tender memories among the older citizens of the Parish, who will recall many _____ which I never knew. For fifty years or more he was treasurer of the Masonic Lodge. _____ the books he kept was a money bag. When the lodge called on him for a report, he would produce the bag and it was all there. He never let the money get mixed with his own money. No individual that I ever knew is more _________ stamped on my memory like uncle Morris.