Slave stories from the West 1920; Cherlynn Williams
My life had ended and begun all in one moment. I remember the day it all happened. Thick hot tears welled up in my eyes and I screamed. My Poppa whispered “Calm down, Cherelynn, you’ll be okay.” and I refused, arching my back in the overseer’s arms. Taking a swift kick to his face, I attempted to escape to no avail. Other slaves that were stuffed in the crowded pen began to grab at the overseer’s arms. A warning shot was fired into the air and that of which followed was a silence louder than the protests. I was sold for five hundred dollars to a white man named Mr. Ernest in Alabama who had taken a specific liking to me. I had no family, no processions and no way out. I could only guess that I was around eight at time I was sold to the Eden plantation. Words could not describe how cruel Mr. Ernest was. He and his petty little wife were the rulers of their own little kingdom and we were the prisoners trapped in a life we couldn’t escape. I had no desire to see the rich color of my skin or the uneven slope of my features but I was reminded quite frequently that my place in the world was determined by the way I looked. I had deep chestnut skin tone and black eyes to match. My skin was youthful …show more content…
When I had been sold and was terrified of what awaited me, I was greeted with open arms. Maddie, the eldest slave on the plantation, was about fifty-six and I couldn’t recall a face in my lifetime that was more aged. Wrinkles lined her eyes and mouth and her eyes drooped with the sleeplessness I’m sure she had experienced for years prior to meeting her. “Goodness,” she said, tracing the scrapes and bruises on my arm with her finger. “you’ve been through an awful lot haven’t you?” I nodded and began weeping. She gestured to a girl about my age behind her and another middle aged woman setting up a cot in the corner. “That’s Marcie and that’s
My life had ended and begun all in one moment. I remember the day it all happened. Thick hot tears welled up in my eyes and I screamed. My Poppa whispered “Calm down, Cherelynn, you’ll be okay.” and I refused, arching my back in the overseer’s arms. Taking a swift kick to his face, I attempted to escape to no avail. Other slaves that were stuffed in the crowded pen began to grab at the overseer’s arms. A warning shot was fired into the air and that of which followed was a silence louder than the protests. I was sold for five hundred dollars to a white man named Mr. Ernest in Alabama who had taken a specific liking to me. I had no family, no processions and no way out. I could only guess that I was around eight at time I was sold to the Eden plantation. Words could not describe how cruel Mr. Ernest was. He and his petty little wife were the rulers of their own little kingdom and we were the prisoners trapped in a life we couldn’t escape. I had no desire to see the rich color of my skin or the uneven slope of my features but I was reminded quite frequently that my place in the world was determined by the way I looked. I had deep chestnut skin tone and black eyes to match. My skin was youthful …show more content…
When I had been sold and was terrified of what awaited me, I was greeted with open arms. Maddie, the eldest slave on the plantation, was about fifty-six and I couldn’t recall a face in my lifetime that was more aged. Wrinkles lined her eyes and mouth and her eyes drooped with the sleeplessness I’m sure she had experienced for years prior to meeting her. “Goodness,” she said, tracing the scrapes and bruises on my arm with her finger. “you’ve been through an awful lot haven’t you?” I nodded and began weeping. She gestured to a girl about my age behind her and another middle aged woman setting up a cot in the corner. “That’s Marcie and that’s