Richard Eldred Blalock, part 2

After a lot of thinking the conversation which my father had with me long before his death, has mostly all come straight back to me He told me the story of his mother’s childhood and of her mother, his grandmother. Her name was Allen, but his grandmother’s story was sad.

As he told me, his grandmother was part Cherokee Indian and that she married a man by the name of Crabtree. There were several children when he drug them all off on a long, long trip. I think he said to Missouri, but I would not be certain of that. Any way, he deserted them and went off and left them there. So she came back to this place where they had lived and here I am still confused - I do not remember if he said Jefferson, Texas or some place in Oklahoma Territory - but this “good man” took her and her ragged, starving children in and gave them a home, for which she worked for him in payment. This man reared the children and they became known by his name, and the name was Gode. I remember it well now because it was such a simple but off sort of name. He never told me if he knew anymore about his grandmother’s brothers and sisters. But definitely, that was the sad story of his grandmother. I heard about the Allens; his mother’s family and I also remember two sisters of Grandpa Billy Blalock.

I also remember that after I was a school girl, some men looked us up with a paper for my father to sign establishing a claim to some land in Oklahoma. Daddy was a proud man, and he got mad as fire. He told them that he guessed he could make a living for his family without help from the dad-blamed Indians. Sc we missed out on all that Oklahoma oil, but that was the kind of man my father was. At that time he had very few dollars, but that didn’t matter - that was the kind of man he was and that was the kind of man he died.

Slavery is an inflammatory word to use these days, but it comes into this story again in an odd manner. This discussion is one of the personal things 1 do know about. It was a custom all over the world for many, many years. Never right of course. But everyone concerned should do some research on the subject. It was not right when the Jews were in bondage, nor the different old Norse tribes, and all those others all over the world. Yes it was done by the Indians, one Africa captured another and sold them to the Arab traders who came not so far away. *** Reminds me of a bunch of alley cats out on the prowl. The best fighter was tops - while he lasted. But there was always a bigger cat out than Tom and sooner or later, the position changed and old Tom, crept off to lick his wounds while New Tom ruled. Is this world much different today? Just look at what goes on!

The point of all this, was when I was about eleven years old. Daddy moved as to Queen City. He had been farming and also serving as Deputy Sheriff under his cousin Cooper Blalock, at that time, sheriff of Cass county. At Queen City he also was constable of precinct #4. I remember when he helped the Texas Rangers on a job in that area, as they came at the call of the Railway Company. He served as cattle inspector, because no one else would have the job - scared to take it. But that comes later. Now we had been living in Queen City only a short time when we had a visitor. A very neat small colored woman. She came to our house and said: “they tells me this is where Mrs. Dred Blalock lives, is that so?” she continued. My mother replied in the affirmative and the little woman expostulated, “But that CAN’T be so! Marse Dred Blalock died long, long time ago. My mother was a slave girl in that house, and she told all about what a good home she had with them. They were good to her, and she no had trouble then. My mother was a little girl then, and she been dead too, a long time. How come?” My mother explained that “Marse Dred” was her husband’s grandfather. We spent much time listening to Miss Mary’s stories about what her mother had told her about the years when she lived as a slave girl in the home of my great grandfather. We heard no stories of brutality, neglect nor bad treatment. This is another reason why I am proud of Grandfather Eldred, or Dred, Blalock. He seemed to have been a genuinely good man, thoughtful of others.

Some of Miss Mary Muldrew’s stories were humorous and lapped over into her own life. She and her husband were good respectable people who lived in a little white frame house which was kept clean. According to her, the husband was a good man, very religious but just a trifle lazy about some small chores such as bringing in the stove wood. She told him and she told him, but he didn’t get the wood. He had found it expedient when these little matters came up to fall on his knees and pray. No body would bother a praying man - he thought. But the good wife had run out of patience. Hit him with the poker? Oh no, she could never do that. Along came the old striped cat and Miss Mary’s nimble brain got the answer. Quickly she picked up the old cat and flung it on his back. Now a frightened cat, back hairs up, tailed fuzzed out with all claws out and dug in as it held on for dear life, got him up off his knees, #_-@x! Xx --z —** the unreligious expletives burst forth as he danced around trying to shake the furious cat off his back. “Shame on you, saying all those ugly words’, the wife begin, “Woman, “he replied, “how in the blanked blank do you specs a man to pray with a cat on his back?” According to Miss Mary, the stove wood box stayed full from then on.