John Wilson Green

      As I remember, my grandfather, John Wilson Green, was called "Mr. John" by everyone that knew him. With that in mind, I will refer to him as "Mr. John".

      Mr. John was a man with great wisdom and he used his wisdom to help others in need. I have heard him say, "God gives every man a talent and he should use it. It is every man's job to seek and find the talent that God gave him."

      Mr. John was a Primitive Baptist. We called it Hard Shell Baptist and he was true to his religion. I have often heard him say, "change a man agent (against) his will and he is opinion still." He helped organize the Primitive Baptist Church that was named Macedonia Primitive Baptist Church. The church is still active today and a new one is being erected beside the old one. The land the church is on was at one time in the Green family and adjoining land is still in the family.

      Mr. John came to Arkansas from North Carolina in 1890. He taught wrighting school and worked at a sawmill. Mr. John secured a land grant in Dallas County from the state of Arkansas. It was three miles north of Dalark and one-half mile off the Dallas and Clark County line. This land is still in the family. He also helped secure land that joined his.

      Dalark was divided by two counties, Dallas and Clark, and that is how it got its name.

      Farming ran in Mr. John's blood and he and his family started clearing the land.

      Mr. John studied law and became very popular as an advisor and counselor to his neighbors. Mr. John was very understanding and had feelings for any person that was deprived of the good things of life. He worked mostly with country people and people that couldn't afford a city lawyer.

      I remember my first trip to Arkadelphia with Mr. John to the law office of Captain Joseph Calloway. It was over Heard's Drug Store which is still standing and was operated by Hoss Heard III and today by Hoss Heard IV. When we walked in that law office, I was astounded and amazed at all the big books. I was not old enough to understand, but I remember it very well. Mr. Dwight Crawford was another one of Mr. John's law counselors. Mr. Dwight Crawford's law office still stands in front of the Clark County Court House. It is about 135 years old and is still being used as a law office. Captain Dona Huie Sr. was another one of Mr. John's law counselors. That building is still in use today. Mr. John became a Justice of the Peace in his township.

      Mr. John was a hard working man. He believed every man should earn his bread by the sweat of his brow. He loved the soil and was a natural born farmer.

      As Mr. John progressed he secured more and more land. At one time he owned fifteen hundred acres. He built a saw mill, cotton gin, and a grist mill. The cotton gin was a one stand gin, but he soon bought a larger steam engine and added another stand. I remember that engine well and it even had automatic oilers and that was the latest thing. I can remember carrying slabs to fire the boiler. One of the most exciting times of my life was when Mr. John let me work the injector that fed the water into the boiler. I thought I had grown up that day. Mr. John would gin other folks' cotton either for the cotton seed or for money and he would grind corn for one-eighth of a share.

      There were two mill ponds on the farm; one above the mill and one below. The one above you could not swim in it but us boys could swim in the lower one. Mr. John said he didn't want muddy water in his boiler. As a boy, it never occurred to me how Mr. John knew when us boys had been swimming in the upper mill pond.

      Mr. John also owned a general merchandise store. It was there on the farm. He had everything from Ho-hound stick candy to overalls and farming tools. He had several negro families living on the farm and they could buy supplies on credit and pay when the crops were harvested and sold.

      From early nineteen hundred to about 1940, negro families living on Mr. John's farm worked on the halves. They got half of everything they made and Mr. John furnished the land, houses, mule teams, and tools. This was called share cropping which is just about extinct today.

      He only let a family have as many mules and as much land as they could gather and no more. One man and wife got one mule and plow and as much land as that mule could work. Larger families got more mules and plows and more land.

      Cotton was the money crop and corn was the food crop. Each family had to plant enough corn for their half to feed them. Food came first and there was always plenty of peas, peanuts, and sorghum raised. Mr. John must have inherited his father's knowledge about negros because he knew how to get the work out of them and it seemed to me that they all liked him. All the time I lived with Mr. John, I never heard a negro say anything against him. He took care of the negro families because I have heard him say, "You don't bruise or mistreat the hand that helps feed you."

      If anyone got sick or in trouble Mr. John would help them regardless of color. If a neighbor got sick and could not work his farm out, Mr. John took enough negros, mules, and plows to get the job done.

      I remember one instance when the entire family of one of the neighbors got sick. The family's name was West and their farm joined Mr. John's on the east. It was laying by time and his crop was in a mess. Mr. John carried enough negros and mules and plowed out that entire crop and was back at the barn before sundown. I heard Mr. West tell Mr. John, "I don't know when I can pay you." He told Mr. West, "You don't owe me anything but your gratitude and your blessings for you know you have mine."

      Mr. John's farm was a busy place. You never ran out of a job the year around. In the winter you cleared land, made posts, built new fences, cleared and repaired old fence rows. You cut sprouts, hauled fire wood and pine kindling and split stove wood.

      When it rained you cleaned the barn halls and mule stalls. You scraped mule collars and rubbed Neetsfoot Oil into them to keep them soft and from cracking. There were also harnesses to be repaired. We would haul a lot of leaves and pine straw to put in stalls, hallways, and the barnyard. Forking that barnyard fertilizer and putting in a pin was a job I never learned to like.

      Saturday was mill day and for work in the blacksmith shop. I liked Saturdays because I liked working in Mr. John's blacksmith shop. You shod the mules that needed shoes, sharpened plows, made plow stocks, repaired plows, wagons, and cultivators.

      Mr. John sold commercial fertilizer by the freight car load in the spring of the year. He would book the farmers' needs, usually starting in January and would notify them when the fertilizer would be at Dalark. I went with him one day when he had two car loads to arrive in Dalark. I well remember that I was water boy that day. You never saw so many mules and wagons.

      Some of the farmers could not pay Mr. John for their fertilizer until crops were harvested. It seemed that Mr. John always had money. I know Mr. John loaned money because I could see it change hands, but wasn't old enough to know what it was all about. I happen to know Mr. John also financed other negro families besides the ones on his farm.

      The negros did not work on the farm on Saturday unless it had rained and they got behind on the crops. They never seemed to complain. Mr. John said it was the Lord's will that caused so much rain.

      Usually on Saturdays, the negros shelled corn to take to the grist mill. It took three to five bushels of shelled corn to feed all the families for a week. The negros also liked to go to town on Saturdays to stand around and have a good time.

      After a hard rain you took a shovel and walked the terraces to repair breakage or repair the stoppage of water flow.

      I have heard Mr. John say a man's work on a farm is never done. He said the mules needed rest on the Sabbath day the same as us humans did. He said if a man told you he was caught up with his crop and his work, he just did not want to work because you just never catch up.

      Among Mr. John's other talents besides farming and practicing law, was auctioneering. Back then they called auctions "crying sales", which were usually held on Saturdays. I went with him many times and we went in a wagon until he got his first Model T truck. At these sales when things did not bring as much as Mr. John thought they should, he would buy them himself. I have even seen him buy things only to put them back in the sale later. He told me he did that when the buyers got hot. He would buy anything that was farming equipment or clothes. The negros were always in need of clothes and shoes. I very well remember the neighboring people, especially the negros, would visit usually on Sunday, the day after a sale to see if there was anything they wanted or anything Mr. John would give them.

      I will never forget Mr. John's first Model T Ford. It was a new 1914 model and it was about the prettiest thing that I had ever seen. It had a brass radiator, brass windshield frames, Presto hood lights, two side and tail lights that were brass and burned coal oil. Coal oil is called kerosene now.

      Mr. John never learned to master a car. His driving was worse than poor. He said his hands and feet did not do what his brain told them to do every time.

      Mr. John's next car was a 1919 Model T. That car was a "Joner." It was the cause of my arm being broken twice, my Aunt Susie's once, and Mr. John's once. He would kick it back and say "by gunnie, you'll start if we have to push you off," and that is usually what we had to do.

      Mr. John used some by words such as "dadblamed" and "by gunnie" pretty often. I want to say one thing though; I never heard my grandfather use God's name in vain. He said if a man uses the Lord's name in vain to bring out a point in a joke or conversation, his vocabulary was pretty sorry.

      He next bought a 1921 Model T one ton truck. He would ride all of us kids in that truck. I want to say that my grandfather John and grandmother Margaret were good to all of us kids.

      Cotton picking and cotton chopping time is a time I never want to forget. Mr. John always planted watermelons in his cotton rows; about ten hills to the acre. Cotton patch watermelons never get very large but he wanted his negros to have watermelons while they picked cotton. Mr. John said, "Give a negro a watermelon and you have a happy negro."

      At cotton picking time all the negros picked from baby to the old ones. They always sang and had a lingo and rhythm of their own. It was something to listen to them sing and the old songs still ring in my ears. The negro men had, as we called it, a negro holler. At about dusk until a little after dark they would start. It was sort of a yell or yodel. An answer would come from another house and it would sound like an echo. I could miss supper to listen to the negros holler. Mr. John said it was their way of communicating with one another. As long as I lived with my grandfather, I never learned to understand their lingo language. At work they always laughed and talked and seemed happy. I really believe the colored people enjoy life better than the white people.

      I want to say that the negros on Mr. John's farm were good to him and grandmother Margaret. Some of the women helped grandmother Margaret most all the time.

      When the men worked for Mr. John he furnished their dinner. I remember watching them eat. That was one time when a negro stopped talking. As I remember, they were not much of vegetarians, but ate meat and bread and a lot of it.

      Alford Bullock was one of Mr. John's most trusted negros. He moved on Mr. John's farm in January of 1929 and lived and worked on the farm until 1944. Alford Bullock is in his late 80's but his mind is still good and he is very interesting to talk to.

      Henry Davis was another one of Mr. John's most trusted negros. He was nicknamed Scrooch because he had a laugh that sounded like a Scrooch owl. Scrooch lived in a little house close to Mr. John's house because he was kind of a servant. Scrooch was married twice. His first wife was Willie Jones and his second wife was Beulah Hill. They both died on Mr. John's farm. Scrooch was a small, short man. He didn't talk much, just grunted. He informed Mr. John about anything that happened on the place. Us boys called him "Squealer" because he would squeal on us if we were into something we should not have been into. I still believe Scrooch could see in the dark. He could creep around and happen up in the most unexpected places. He reminded me of a cat. I think Scrooch was the informer that told Mr. John when us boys went in that upper mill pond. Mr. John said Scrooch was the lock on the place. He said that Alford Bullock and Scrooch were two negros that wouldn't lie to him. Scrooch lived at Mr. John's for 26 years and died in 1937. Mr. John paid all burial expenses.

      I want to say something about a negro family, the John Watsons. After Mr. John established his family, he went back to North Carolina and brought John Watson to Arkansas. John Watson was married in Dallas County to a local girl. Mr. John helped him secure 80 acres of land in Dallas County that joined his on the south. Grandmother Margaret said John Watson was named after Mr. John Green. I have heard John Watson say his daddy was my great grandfather's slave.

      John Watson's oldest boy was named Sam. He was about three years older than I. We played together a lot when we were boys growing up. Sam would lie a little to keep me out of trouble with Mr. John and Margaret.

      Sam lives in Malvern, Arkansas now. Four of his children finished college. One is a doctor of medicine and surgeon and one a Ph.D. in Divinity.

      I would like to say something now about my Aunt Susie. She gave a lot of her life to taking care of her daddy and mother, Mr. John Green and Margaret. Susie was Mr. John's youngest child and a few months younger than I. We were raised together. Aunt Susie married Reverend Hugh Howard in Chesterville, South Carolina, and they lived in High Point, North Carolina.

      Uncle Hugh worked at Snow Lumber Company as a carpenter. They left North Carolina in November of 1928 to come home and look after Grandma and Grandpa Green and to help run the farms. They lived with Grandpa after Grandma died on June 27, 1929. They stayed until 1934. Returned to North Carolina in November of 1934.

      Uncle Hugh worked at a textile mill in Oakboro, North Carolina and was Pastor of Oakboro Baptist Church. They left North Carolina again in November of 1937 and stayed with Grandpa until his death on December 29, 1944.

      I want to say that I never heard Uncle Hugh or Aunt Susie complain about helping care for Grandma and Grandpa even though they gave many years of their lives in doing so. They always seemed pleasant. Susie was a fairly young woman when she died in March of 1957.

      As Mr. John's children married, he gave them a certain amount of land and property. The ones on the main road did not receive as much as the ones on the back roads. This gift consisted of a house, a smoke house, a chicken house, a barn, a well with plenty of water.

      The children that were not satisfied with their deal could sell the land back to Mr. John.

      My Aunt Maggie sold her land back to Mr. John. Her and Uncle Luther went west to Texas, there is where they both died and were buried in Texas.

      The land that Mr. John gave to Uncle Charlie, Uncle James, and Aunt Susie is still in the Green family.

      My father, William Oscar Green was one that sold his farm back to Mr. John. He went out west to Oklahoma. There is where my mother died in 1910. Us kids were brought back to Arkansas.

      Mr. John and Margaret raised my youngest sister, Viola, until she was grown. Grandmother Margaret was always "Mamma" to Viola. She was not a year and a half old when Grandmother Margaret brought her to their home.

      Dad stayed in Oklahoma for a while then came back to Arkansas. He was married again and lived in Dalark, Arkansas in Dallas County for a long time before moving to Arkadelphia, Arkansas in Clark County in 1923.

      Cotton ginning must have run in the Green blood because my father, William Oscar, owned and operated a cotton gin in Dalark for several years before it burned. He never rebuilt it. My uncle Charlie Green owned and operated a cotton gin in Dalark several years until he died on December 22, 1935.

      Mr. John Green left his mark on his generation and generations to follow, down to and including his great, great, great grandchildren. Some have made mighty good men and women.

      I still say my grandfather, Mr. John Wilson Green, was a great man, morally and spiritually. For years, when I get depressed or down in the dumps as I call it; I get in my car and drive to the country out where I was raised. Some of the fields have grown up in timber. Some of the old terraces you can still see. There are big trees growing on some. I sit there and remember when Mr. John and I walked those terraces. I was bad to stumble and fall and Grandad would reach down with that big hand and help me up and say, "We don't have much farther to go."

      As I have gone down this road of life I have stumbled and fell a lot of times. Spiritually, I still really believe my Grandad is still reaching down with that big hand lifting me up and showing me the way, and saying, "We don't have much farther to go." In memory, I still see Mr. John walking those fields to see what needed to be done most. He somehow always know when it was going to rain so he knew when to plow and what plows to use.

      God gave my grandfather a talent and he developed it and used it.

      I visit some of the old negros as often as possible, two are blind now, about all have died, the ones that are still living have something good to say about Mr. John.

      I want to say now, what I have written and the information I have gathered is true to the best of my knowledge.