farm laborer

Recommended reading, no. 22: One Third of a Nation.

 

In the early 1930s, journalist Lorena Hickok traveled across the United States investigating the plight of Americans struggling through the Depression. One Third of a Nation: Lorena Hickok Reports on the Great Depression. is an annotated compilation of Hickok’s contemporaneous letters, composed as she moved from state to state.

Hickok passed through Wilson in February 1934 and duly filed a letter to Harry L. Hopkins, head of the Federal Emergency Relief Administration, the agency charged with doling out relief to millions of unemployed and needy. She arrived in the midst of a farming crisis, as reductions in crop acreage forced hundreds of farm families off the land.

“As they move to town, they apply for direct relief. The intake office in Wilson today was so crowded you could hardly get into the place. Every house, every abandoned shack, is filled with them. They even break the locks off empty houses and move in.

“Members of the relief committee, two clergymen, the administrator, and the case work supervisor in Wilson today told me that 300 of these displaced tenants and their families have moved into Wilson — a town of about 13,000 population — in the last three years, and of that 300 families, 200 have moved in this winter. The case work supervisor told there were AT LEAST FIFTY CASES in which the landlord, to get rid of them, had moved them in himself and had paid their first week’s rent!

“Seventy-five percent of these families that have moved into Wilson, they told me, are Negroes. Most of them are illiterate. They are afflicted with tuberculosis and the social diseases. Of the white families many have pellagra and hookworm, although hookworm isn’t so common up here as it is farther South. They are a dead weight on the community, both from the social and the economic standpoints. They don’t even want to live in town. The administrator and the case work supervisor both said that there is a constant stream of them in and out of their offices, begging for a chance to ‘git a place on some farm.’

“They’re NOT all bums, either. They HAVEN’T come to town to get work in the mills or on CWA. They’ve come because there’s no place for them to live in the country. Every abandoned shack in the countryside is filled up.”

A farm dinner.

The account of the annual lunch the Amos Hayes family hosted for the “help on the farm.” Hayes himself was a tenant farmer, renting his farm from Congressman Frederick A. Woodard, but he operated on a large scale and employed dozens of laborers. Sixty-seven attended the mid-day meal, 33 white and 34 black, seated separately at two long tables spread with “barbecue, chicken, pickles, bread, cake, and other good things to eat.”

Wilson Daily Times, 19 August 1910.

Around the pumps at Bardin Brothers.

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The photograph in this advertisement for Bardin Brothers is undated, but it was published in the 1960 edition of Lee Woodard High School’s Panther’s Paw yearbook. Black Wide-Awake’s focus is pre-1950, but I am sharing as a rare image of African-Americans born early in the 20th century who lived and worked in rural Wilson County. I cannot identify any of the men and women depicted alongside members of the Bardin family. However, Bardin Brothers’ sweet potato farm-cum-gas station-and-grocery stood off Highway 117 Alternate South at Yank and Potato House Court Roads, just north of the town of Black Creek, and presumably these workers and/or customers lived in the neighboring community.

If you recognize anyone, please let me know.

Many thanks to Wayne Edwards for bringing this photo to my attention.