CLIFFORD: Julius Ricks was old Uncle John's eldest son, Julius
Ricks was... You said Julius?
I knew all of them. They were members of . . .; I served the church down there seventeen years.
You have pretty good knowledge on the Ricks', do you?
DON: If you have any knowledge on them at all, perhaps you can
confirm or dispute any information I now have.
CLIFFORD: I'll tell you what. I knew the old Grandpa Ricks,
John Ricks. He was a member of the church at Hopewell, and I could
tell you some things that wouldn't give your book anything. That
old man was excluded twice from that church, and he stood for order.
Confusion came up and they excluded him. He wouldn't move from what
he believed was right. They excluded him twice. I wasn't living the
first time he was excluded, long time before I was ever born.
DON: When were you born?
CLIFFORD: I was born in 1907, March 7, 1907.
DON: My father is about three years older than you.
CLIFFORD: And his father's name was . . .His father's father's
name was?
DON: John William Ricks.
CLIFFORD: John William. J. W. Ricks' father was, was he
a descendant from John Ricks?
DON: I think it was Ransom Ricks.
CLIFFORD: Ransom. Well, now, that's, Ransom Ricks must,
undoubtedly, have been John Ricks' brother. That's where the separation
from the family that I know, and your immediate family, John Ricks' family
is ones that I know. The old John Ricks.
DON: My grandfather call Julius Ricks his cousin, so that would
fall in line.
CLIFFORD: That's right. And I wasn't acquainted with your
immediate family there, it was from the John Ricks, Julius Ricks' father's
family the ones I had . . .
DON: Well, my grandfather had a brother and a sister: John
F. Ricks, and Francis R. Ricks. They called her "Fannie." Fannie
married Moses Roach, and I think they were around Burnsville. Jennie
Stanley Ricks was J. W. Ricks' wife. Jennie Stanley died back in 1913,
up in Burnsville. I've got her death certificate.
CLIFFORD: Jennie Stanley RICKS? She was a Stanley before
she got married? Well, now, the Stanley's . . .There's some Stanley's right
back down, kinda southeast of here, used to live in here. I wasn't
closely acquainted with them. My wife people knew them well, the Stanley's.
The only Stanley man that I ever become acquainted with was Mark Stanley,
and he was a brother to Fred Stanley. There was a big family of them.
I don't know how many there were of them.
DON: The father of Jennie Stanley was William Stanley, and Jennie
Stanley's mother was a Burnes before she mar-ried into this family.
They came from Ireland, and I'm, I came up here, primarily, to find out
where J. W. Ricks was buried. I know he died around 1882 in a logging accident
down on J. B. Ricks' farm. They were all living in that same area.
William Ricks grew up around there, too.
CLIFFORD: Have you been around Baldwyn a-searchin' for that?
DON: No, sir, what I'm really trying to find out is where Ransom
Ricks died and where John William Ricks died. I checked the census
. . .
CLIFFORD: Tell you what you do. You take down this name
and you go to Baldwyn, and if you go to Baldwyn they have a telephone.
The telephone is listed in the name of Paul Short. They live there
in Baldwyn. She knows all about the Ricks'. If she doesn't
know, she'll tell you who to go to that will know. See, my acquaintance
was . . .That was her grandfather. And she's an elderly woman. She's
seventy-two. She's about my age. That would be my advice to
you. Now, as far as Mister . . .We always called him Bill Ed.
He went by the name of Bill Ed.
DON: I wonder how he got that name?
CLIFFORD: I don't know. Let's see, his initials were . .
.? G. W. I imagine..., I don't know how come they named him
Bill Ed. But, now, he was a very comical old man. He had lots of
fun. And, I knew him only in his last years of his life. I
knew Sammie, his daughter, and also I knew her little girl. What
was her name? Grace. Grace and the little boy, James.
See . . .James Chambers. Grace's mother . . .Sammie married a Chambers.
DON: Right. Grace Evelyn Chambers.
CLIFFORD: Yeah, I knew them, knew them well.
DON: Sammie's name was Sammie Davis Lassiter Chambers.
CLIFFORD: Well, I will say . . .Lassiter. Well, now, how?
She married Lassiter, didn't she?
DON: I don't know how many times she got married.
CLIFFORD: Yes, she was married several times. I don't know
just how many myself.
DON: Sammie was a nurse, I understand.
CLIFFORD: Yes, and she traveled lots in her lifetime. I
never did know much about . . . But, they lived right down there, door
neighbors to us. Mister Bill Ed, we called him, one time he bought
a little farm down there, right? Right on this road, going back to Rienzi.
He had some cattle, and he had a little barn out there, and it didn't have
any cow sheds. All the bad weather, and he was down sick, maybe had
had pneumonia, or something. My father . . .We always just pitched
in when somebody needed something done, we did it. We went up there
and built him cow sheds on the side of his barns, where he'd keep his cows
in the dry. He's the funniest ole fella, he was in bed sick.
He couldn't even get out there, but he was able to go to the table for
dinner. And, Miss Emma, he called her all the time, Miss Emma got
dinner ready and all, you know. Called us to come eat dinner, so
all of us went to eat dinner with 'em. And, (laughing) he was, there
'as hard times, there 'as a depression time. Miss Emma said, "You
men will just have to drink your coffee without any sugar." Said,
"Ain't got no sugar." Said, "Bill Ed shoulda got some sugar, but
he didn't before he got sick, you know." And, he hadn't been shaved
in a couple of weeks, you know. Them whiskers out long, you know,
maybe more'n that. And, he said, "Miss Emma, just plenty, just rake
it off right there." (Laughing)
Now, that's kinda feller he was. There 'as always somethin' funny,
ya know. 'Course, all of us laughed about it, but he was a good-hearted
old man. Now, I'll tell you one thing he had, now, he had the vinegar
in him, and he 'as mean if you got him mad. If you got him stirred
up, he 'as mean, he didn't afraid any man, I don't reckon. He 'as
just as full a lit'le ole funny things as you'd think of, but he 'as good
to t'us. And we thought a lot of him, and he 'as a good neighbor,
good neighbor.
I can say that much for 'em. I don't know whether I 'as in his
funeral or not, but Sammie, if you can find any of her children, I'm sure
they'd know if I held his funeral. But, we were good friends.
I'll tell you what I did. The last time I ever saw him alive, I 'as
on the grand jury, and they sent us out to the county home. He was
out there in the care of the county home, you know, and ropes up here,
you know, where he could pull himself up with that rope. I was the
clerk of the grand jury, and we had to make records of what we reported.
The others stepped out before I did. He wanted to say something to
me, I reckon. I remained with him, and he said, " Clifford." He called
me, Clifford. Said, "Clifford, You'll never see me again alive unless
you make a special trip up here to see me." "Why," I said, "Mister
Bill Ed, you can't tell about that. I might see you several times."
He said, "You won't unless you come up here." "Now," he said, and
this is not to be laughed at, he said, "I won't be here a month from today.
I'm gonna die and I know I'm gonna die, and you ain't gonna see me no more."
And then he thought of some lit'le ole funny thing to throw at me to
get him off of that, you know. He said, "But, I'm not goin' ta hell!"
(laughing) Just as positive (pause to get in a big laugh).
He said, "Before I'd go to hell," 'said, "I'd ride in on the back of one
of you preachers!"
I said, "Mister Bill Ed, you'd better be careful who's preacher back
you get on, you'll land in the wrong place!" He just died laughing!
I left him laughing. When I left him, I left him a laughin'. But,
now, that's the kind of friend he was. You know, he had that lit'le
ole fun about him. He didn't mean no harm by that, but that 'as just
him, just him. And, if you didn't know him, you couldn't have a bit
of use for him. You had to know him to even think well of him, because
he 'as just as full of that lit'le ole fun as he could be.
DON: How did he get up into the county home?
CLIFFORD: In that last days of his life, he was, his health failed.
He and Miss Emma lived together . . .Now, I think she had already passed
away at the time he did.
DON: 1936.
CLIFFORD: She died in '36? Well, this was after that.
I'd been a preacher, he'd heard me preach funerals, Lord, I began
to try and preach in '36, the year she died. He lived on . . .I don't
know just what year he died, but, he was, always had some kind of fun.
Doctor Googe was an old doctor at Rienzi and just as full of devilment
as he could ever be himself. And Miss Emma got bad off, she had a. . .
I don't know if it was a stroke or heart or something bad wrong with her,
and called Doctor Googe who went down there. He examined her. He
was always going on, Uncle Bill Ed. Doctor Googe said, "Bill
Ed," er uh, said, "Your wife's in bad shape." Bill Ed said, "She's
about all she has been."
Doctor Googe said, "Now, Bill Ed, Miss Emma's just barely here.
She's in bad shape, and if there's not some turn within a few minutes of
time, Miss Emma ain't gonna be here!"
Bill Ed said, "She ain't as bad as she has been!"
Doctor Googe said, "I don't see how in the world anybody can live worst
off than Miss Emma is."
Bill Ed said, "Well, I do."
"Well, what is it?", said Doctor Googe.
Bill Ed said, "She didn't have anywhere to go to."
That's what he said to Doc Googe, passed it off as fun, you know.
Well, she got better. She got up and lived a good while after that.
But, now, I, as far as giving you any valuable information for your records,
you'll just have to find some of the Ricks'. Now, there's a Roscoe
Ricks, this Paul Short's wife has got a brother named Roscoe Ricks.
He's the oldest Ricks alive.
DON: Yes, I just talked with him yesterday.
CLIFFORD: And he couldn't tell you about your Ricks family, could
he tell you anything?
DON: Well, he is hard of hearing. In trying to talk with
him, it was difficult to get him to talk, because you had to holler at
him, shout at him. Of course, we all get bad in hearing as we get
older, but he was just so old that he just doesn't remember. His
mind is clear, like you. He talks like you.
CLIFFORD: Clara Short, that's her name, Paul Short's wife, that's
who you should take to. If you had the time, if you will be in Baldwyn,
you can find them easy. But, I'm satisfied that if Roscoe couldn't tell
you much about it . . .Now, Clara might know who could.
DON: He told me about my great-grandfather being killed.
He told me about where he was killed. He said he was killed over
there on that hill in a logging accident. He showed me the land and
everything. He said, "Yeah, we're some kin to you, but I don't really
know how we connect."
CLIFFORD: Don't know how close.
DON: I think I pretty well reduced it to what I know.
RINEHART"S WIFE: Clifford, you said Roscoe Ricks was Clara Short's
brother, but that's not right.
CLIFFORD: Uncle, I meant to say.
DON: I'm going to check this tape machine before it stops. (Restart tape)
CLIFFORD: I'm glad you got it because that's about I knew.
But, I'd love to say this about the Ricks': This is not from them.
Old Uncle John Reynolds was a good friend of the Ricks'. Always,
they's sawmillers. He 'as a sawmill man. And, they . . .and John
Reynolds was, his Daddy lived here. And old Uncle John Reynolds lived in
Booneville. He was a good friend to 'em, and one day we were
talking on the sidewalk at Booneville. Old Uncle John Reynolds, he
was a good friend of mine, and Roscoe Ricks came up selling some watermelons
and muskmel-ons. He was a great watermelon raiser. And he said to
Mister Reynolds, said, "Mister Reynolds," said, "would you like to have
some watermelons or muskmelons," or whatever it was he was selling.
Mister Reynolds said, "Yep, I want a Ricks (watermelon)." So he bought
some of 'em. And, he said when he patted him on the arm, Roscoe,
'said, "Roscoe Ricks, Roscoe Ricks," 'said, "I've known 'em all his
life." And said, "There ain't a Ricks by the name that I wouldn't
loan him a hundred dollars on his word."
DON: Amen!
CLIFFORD: And, so, that's the kind of people . . .I 'as just tellin'
you that. Old Uncle John Ricks was as hon-est...they didn't come as any
more honest than John Ricks in his family. They 'as honest people,
they's good peo-ple. And, I appreciate meetin' you, 'cause some way
or another, you're kin to 'em. Every indication, your dark eyes and
dark hair. . . .
DON: Uh, uh (clearing my throat), we all basically look the same,
I guess. I've got pictures of my father out in the car, and my grandfather,
and my grandmother, Margaret Davis, Bill Ed's daughter. I've got
a very old photograph that someone gave me, one of the Putt girls.
Mary A. Davis, Bill Ed's first wife, divorced him and married a John Freeze.
The descendants of that family are down in Wheeler now. Just down
below where my grandfather lived. I met them and recorded our conversations.
There's about four or five tapes of all the conversations I've had with
them.
CLIFFORD: Well, I'll say. And, if there's any way in the
world I could help you that'd be any help on your record, the Lord knows
I'd do it. But . . .that would be the only source of you gettin'
any further.
DON: If you can tell me anything about the county home he was
put in, and maybe who, how he came about going in there . . .
CLIFFORD: Well, that ceased to be a county home. It was
up here east of Corinth about two miles. It's not two miles from
the city limits now, maybe in the city limits at the present time, but
its east of Corinth on Farmington Road.
DON: Do you know anything about the circumstances surrounding
his . . .?
CLIFFORD: I think he was left alone and reached the age that,
and such. That was after Sammie's death, that he could not take care
of himself. So, they sent him there to take care of his health.
Of course, he was a poor man.
DON: His grandchildren probably took his remaining property.
CLIFFORD: I don't know if his grandchildren took his property.
Now, the little boy was pretty rough. Grace, she married, and she
lost her first husband, a man named Webb. Some kinda arthritis.
He . . .it had eat his fingers off back to the joints. It eat 'em
off. He had some awful bad arthritis, or something. Some kind of
disease eatin' on 'em. And, he died. I knew him.
DON: Grace lives in Memphis, Tennessee.
CLIFFORD: She was just as sweet to us as she could be.
MRS. RINEHART: James left right after that, and nobody ever heard from him again.
CLIFFORD: You haven't heard of him, have you?
DON: No, sir. I've been trying to find some information
that will lead me to him.
MRS. RINEHART: Grace told us the last time I seen her, she hadn't
ever heard from him. She said she didn't know if he was still living or not.
DON: I'm looking for a picture of the fellow. I don't know
if anybody has a picture of Bill Ed Davis.
CLIFFORD: Yes, I suppose Grace'd have 'em. There's a possibility
that if you could find some of Tom Miles' folks, might. They's mighty
good friends, but I doubt them having his picture. I guess you might
near have to find Grace.
DON: Well, he had a very small farm down here, didn't he?
CLIFFORD: Yeah.
DON: I got a letter from my Aunt Mary who came down here in 1928
and visited him. She said that he lived in a log house out here somewhere
close to Rienzi. Might not have been the same farm he lived on when he
died, but they tell me that the house he lived in when he died was not
a log cabin, it was. . . .
CLIFFORD: It was what they called "Shanghai." But, the log
house that he lived in was on towards Rienzi, just a little piece from
where that is, but he didn't own that place, I don't think. I don't
think he owned that place at the time he lived there. This little
place down here, he did own it. Anyway, it was in their family.
DON: The property must have gone to Grace Evelyn Webb when he
died, huh?
CLIFFORD: I suppose so. She was the nearest thing to him,
was Grace. I don't know that, but whatever he had, I'm satisfied
went to Grace. Grace was . . .Grace'd made lots of mistakes in her
life, and Sammie 'as pretty wild, but Grace 'as good-hearted. You've
met her, haven't you?
DON: No, I'm going to, someday. I was just down at Smith's
Drug Store, downtown Rienzi, and I talked with three old fellows there
that knew Bill Ed. The druggist. . . .
CLIFFORD: Yes, Truman Smith knew him well.
DON: Yes, sir, and two other fellows walked in and I showed them
Sammie's picture. I've got one out in the car. They were pretty
excited. One guy went to school with Sammie. He was really
happy to see the picture of her.
This is a wonderful community up in here. Everybody seems so friendly
and down to earth.
CLIFFORD: Well, many places . . .southern hospitality is the best
hospitality on earth, even though I live here, but people here, if they
find out a stranger comes among 'em, they find out he is a searchin' for
somethin' that's benefi-cial to him, as a general rule, they'll do whatever
they can do for 'em.
DON: I have everybody's name down here. I'm cataloging everybody.
I know you were born in 1906.
CLIFFORD: March 7, 1907. And, I wish there was further that
I could give you that would be valuable to you.
DON: Well, you have been. I was just trying to get some
oral history on him . . . .
CLIFFORD: He lived over there by Rienzi. Now, he 'as funny
as he could be. He'd tell you all kind of lit'le ole funny things.
Some of it might not've been true, but anyway it'd get a laugh. He
said over here at ole Piney Grove one time, they hired him to serve the
church, a missionary baptist church.
DON: He was a preacher?This next one is a funny story!
CLIFFORD: Yeah, he was a preacher, and he . . .but, he 'as rough!
He talked rough. He said that he went over there a full year, twelve
months. He told them when they gave him the pastoral care of the
church, said I come twelve months.
They just had it once a month, the meeting.
So, he went once a month for twelve months, and when the end on the twelve
months was over one of the residents got up and said, "I'm gonna make a
motion to elect Brother Bill Ed Davis back as our pastor for another year."
He (Bill Ed) said, "No, you're not gonna do no such of a thing."
(Clifford laughs and chuckles for a few seconds) He said, "That old
feller said, 'Well, why not?" He said, "Well, I'd just rather not
tell it, but I'm not gonna be here," or somethin' like that, you know.
They insisted, and he said, "Well, if you just insist," said, "I come here
twelve months. I filled every bit of thing I promised you to do."
"And," said, "In that twelve months,"
I suppose they give him, maybe, things
that they raised on their farms, such as garden stuff and things like that
to eat.
"But," he said, "you've given me 17 cents, and if you don't
care any more about your pastor than 17 cents a month, you can all die
and go to hell! I'm goin' home."
(We both go into a knee-slapping
laugh session) Now, that's how . . .he'd joke heavy, you know. (Laughing
again)
DON: Everybody tells he 'as a comfortable man, had you laugh .
. .
CLIFFORD: Yeah, Lord, have mercy! He'd have you in a laugh
when he got with ya', and you'd be a laughin'. He'd have you just
a cuttin' up to beat the band in ten minutes. He'd tell you somethin'
funny to get you started. And, of course, I 'as always bad for that
lit'le ole devilment, too, you know, and that's what made him like me so
well. That's exactly what it was.
DON: You must have been like him.
CLIFFORD: Yeah, he liked me, because he told me . . .and, I don't
know. I suspect, just don't remember, but I sus-pect he's buried
here at Sardis.
DON: Yes, I was down at his Sardis grave yesterday.
CLIFFORD: And, at the time he died, I was pastor down there.
DON: You probably preached his funeral. There's not a marker
for his grave down there.
CLIFFORD: I'll tell you what, there's some of these older ones
that know if I held it or not, but we 'as just real buddies, you know,
that way. We just always, he had somethin' funny to say to me, and
I did to him.
DON: I was surprised that there's not a marker on his grave.
CLIFFORD: Yes, but, you know, here's what it was. He 'as
left . . .and if he had any relatives living that knew any-thing about
'em, it was Grace. I don't know where James is, but it was Grace,
and Grace could tell you more than anybody else.
DON: I'm on my way up to Burnsville. Do you know anything
about Burnsville at all?
CLIFFORD: Yes, You know how you get there?
DON: Yes, sir, just go up the highway here and hit 367.
CLIFFORD: Yeah, this is 356. You follow it 'till it dead
ends and then turn. That takes you right to Burnsville.
DON: Well, I've got to get on over to Alabama.
CLIFFORD: And where do you live?
DON: I'm in the army. I've been in the army eighteen and
a half years.
CLIFFORD: Well, Lord! What division?
DON: I just left the 5th Division, and I'm on my way to Germany,
and I came up here on leave.
CLIFFORD: Are you in the regular army or . . .?
DON: Yes, sir. I'm a warrant officer and I fly, and I have
a brother that does about the same thing.
CLIFFORD: Where was you raised up at?
DON: Over in Alabama, around Anniston.
CLIFFORD: Lordy, mercy! We had a daughter that lived there
for years. I've visited Anniston, just above 78 highway. I've
been there many times.
DON: My father now lives down in Valdosta, Georgia. He moved
down there . . .
CLIFFORD: Well, now, listen. Tell me somethin' else.
Does your ancestors, the Ricks, do they run back to the Primitive Baptist
people, or do you know?
DON: Yes, sir, they do. They lived around Hopewell.
CLIFFORD: (laughing) Yeah, you . . .
DON: My great-grandfather is buried at Hodges Chapel.
CLIFFORD: He was? I know right where that is.
DON: There's not a marker there for him, though. Most of
those old cemeteries down have . . .
CLIFFORD: That's right. That's what you find back there.
DON: I'm hoping that the WPA, when they and recorded the cemeteries
back in the early thirties, will find a head-stone for him. I'm just
searching.
CLIFFORD: Yeah. Well, how long you been in service?
DON: Eighteen and a half years.
CLIFFORD: You gonna stay . . .? With you it's a career,
isn't it?
DON: I'll be in about four more years.
CLIFFORD: If you're ever back in this country, come by and see
me. Will ya?
DON: I hope I can ever come back and see you.
CLIFFORD: I'd . . .We'd be glad . . . My wife's got some beef
hash you can eat.
DON: Thank you very much for the offer, and, Mrs. Rinehart, thank
you, ma'am. I'll see you all.
MRS. RINEHART: I hope you have a good trip.
CLIFFORD: If you ever come back through here, you stop and see
me.
DON: Yes, sir, I will.
CLIFFORD: Well, you, the Ricks' was the best of friends.
I pastored that church seventeen years, and during that time . . . I told
you about old Uncle John being excluded twice. Now he's stood excluded
the time I took this church. Two years after I took the church, I
wouldn't let 'em call me. They's divided, you know, I wouldn't let
'em call me, pastor. But, I told them I'd serve you as pastor until
you can get a pastor. It went two years, and they had a call together,
and then had resolutions to rescind the act of excluding old Uncle John
Ricks and twelve other members, we'd thirteen members. And, that'd
been 19 years before that, and they rescinded that act. Of course,
that automatically put them back in the church, and then he (John Ricks)
died in the church.
DON: Do you'll have records in the Hopewell Primitive Baptist
Church?
CLIFFORD: Yes, sir, they have 'em. Let's see, now, what
you'll have to do to get a-hold of that record. You'd have
to inquire for . . .I'd advise you to inquire for Julian Borem. He
was distant, near relatives to the Ricks'.
DON: Do you know when the Primitive Baptist church was established?
CLIFFORD: The church being established there, you'll find it about
18 hundred . . .ah, I would guess it to be in the forties.
DON: 1840's, so, there should be a record of J. W. Ricks' . .
.
CLIFFORD: Yeah, they got . . .It, now, it may have been . . .Now,
some of these 'as . . .My home-church here down at Sardis where your great-granddaddy
Davis is buried, that church was organized in 1842. That old church
over here, old Antiock, this side of Corinth, that one 'as organized in
18 and 37.
DON: Well, who would have the records of the Hopewell church?
CLIFFORD: Ah, I'd advise you . . .If you'd go to the Short's,
they'd tell you more than I can. See, they were members there.
DON: Did you make regular reports to a Baptist conference somewhere
in Mississippi, where they would keep the records of the church?
CLIFFORD: They have a pretty good record. The clerk, the
one that has it now, that church is out from us is why I didn't even know
who the clerk is.
DON: Well, they probably wouldn't keep the records for that far
back, would they?
CLIFFORD: Yes, sir, I think they've got that old record.
But, they're not with our people at the present time.
DON: Thank you very much for the interview and information.
CLIFFORD: If you go over to Short's, they can give you all that
information. He's down with a stroke, the man is, but she's up and able.
She's in good health, and she'd be glad to talk to you. She'd be
glad to meet you.
DON: God bless you, sir
CLIFFORD: Thank you. Bye, bye!