| 1[top right corner in pencil the number '20' circled]
Luke Warn, Negro.
Red Bay, Alabama.
R. V. Waldrop
Editorial Department. AL-81
LUKE WARN: HE AIN'T TALKIN'
Luke Warn leaned agains the creosoted power-pole on Red Bay's main
street. It was evident Luke was passing a few hours of the Saturday afternoon
before going where his team and wagon were hitched behind the stores [crossed out text 'and'] to
drive homeward with his load of flour, coffee, sugar, and meat [crossed out text 'and his family]
[crossed out text 'home.'] He watched the depot, where in a few minutes the I. C. train, from
Birmingham, would pass through on the way to Chicago.
"Spin us a yarn about your life, Luke." I approach him and smiled,
hoping that a friendly manner would disarm him.
"I's got nothing to tell you'bout my life. There is one secret we's
all got and that's yourself, and I ain't gonna tell my secret. I don't mean
I don't trust you-all. You's a good white man." Luke had turned and spoken,
and now he looked to the depot.
"I don't mean to ask you to tell everything."
He looked around once more, lifeted a hand to smooth back his moustache,
straighten the frazzled ends. I remembered that Ples Epps described Luke's
face as looking like it belonged to a monkey. "I don't min'," Luke began,
"tellin' I was born over here on the Cooper place." The Cooper place is
5 miles from Red Bay,
751 | 1[top right corner in pencil the number '20' circled]
Luke Warn, Negro.
Red Bay, Alabama.
R. V. Aaldrop
Editorial Department. AL-81
LUKE WARN: HE AIN'T TALKIN'
Luke Warn leaned agains the creosoted power-pole on Red Bay's main
street. It was evident Luke was passing a few hours of the Saturday afternoon
before going where his team and wagon were hitched behind the stores [crossed out text 'and'] to
drive homeward with his load of flour, coffee, sugar, and meat [crossed out text 'and his family]
[crossed out text 'home.'] He watched the depot, where in a few minutes the I. C. train, from
Birmingham, would pass through on the way to Chicago.
"Spin us a yarn about your life, Luke." I approach him and smiled,
hoping that a friendly manner would disarm him.
"I's got nothing to tell you'bout my life. There is one secret we's
all got and that's yourself, and I ain't gonna tell my secret. I don't mean
I don't trust you-all. You's a good white man." LUke had turned and spoken,
and now he looked to the depot.
"I don't mean to ask you to tell everything."
He looked around once more, lifeted a hand to smooth back his moustache,
straighten the frazzled ends. I remembered that Ples Epps described Luke's
face as looking like it belonged to a monkey. "I don't min'," Luke began,
"tellin' I was born over here on the Cooper place." The cooper place is
5 miles from Red Bay,
751 |
EN