I was born near Morgan City, Louisiana in a old log cabin with a dirt floor, one big room was all, suh. My mother and father and four chillen lived in that room. The marster, he live in a big, old house near us. I 'member it was a big house and my mudder done the cleanin' and work for them, I jus' played round when I's growin' and the fus' work I done, they start me to plowin'. I haven't got 'lection like I used to, but I 'members when I's in the army. Long 'bout '63 I go to the army and there was four of us who run away from home, me and my father and 'nother man named Emanuel Young and 'nother man, but I disremember his name now. The Yankees comed 'bout a mile from us and they took every ear or corn. kilt every head of stock and thirteen hawgs and 'bout fifteen beeves, and feed their teams and themselves. They pay the old lady in Confed'rate money, but it weren't long 'fore that was no money at all. When we think of all that good food the Yankees done got, we jus' up and jine up with them. We figger we git lots to eat and the res' we jus' didn't figger. When they lef' we lef'. My father got kilt from an ambush, in Miss'ippi - I think it was Jackson .  We went to Miss'ippi, then to South Carolina. I went through Georgia and South Carolina with Sherman's army. The fus' battle lasts two days and nights and they was 'bout 800 men kilt, near's I kin 'member. Some of 'em you could find the head and not the body. That was the battle of Vicksburg. After the battle it took three days to bury them what got kilt and they had eight mile throw big furrows back this way, and put 'em in and cover 'em up. In that town was a well 'bout 75 or 80 feet deep and they put 19 dead bodies in that well and fill her up. After the war we went through to Atlanta, in Georgia and stay 'bout three weeks. Finally we come back to Miss'ippi when surrender come. The nigger troops was mix with the others but they wasn't no nigger officers.

After the war I come home and the old marster he didn' fuss at me 'bout going to war and for long time I work on the old plantation for wages, I 'member then the Klu Klux come and when that happen I come to Texas. They never did git me but some they got and kilt. I knowed several men they whip purty bad. I know Narcisse Young , they tell him they was comin'. He hid in the woods, in the trees and he open fire and kilt-seven of them. They was a cullud man with them and after they goes, he comes back and asks can he git them dead bodies. Narcisse let him and them Narcisse he lef' and goes to New Orleans. I thinks it great to be with the Yankees, but I wishes I hadn't after I got there. When you see 1,000 guns point at you I knows you wishes you'd stayed in the woods. The way they did was put 100 men in front and they git shoot and fall down, and then 100 men behin' git up and shoot over 'em and that the way they goes forward. They wasn't no goin' back, 'cause them men behin' you would shoot you. I seed 'em fightin' close 'nough to knock one 'nother with a bay'net. I didn' see no breech loaders guns, they was I muskets, muzzle loaders. and they shoot a ball 'bout big as your finger, at you calls a minnie-ball. I come to Taylor's Bayou in '70 and rid stock long time for Mister Arceneaux and Mister Moise Broussard and farms some to. Then I comes to Beaumont when I's too old to work no more, and lives with one my girls.

A patriarch whose general appearance is reminiscent of some quaint old Biblical character is John Ogee , 96 years of age; a tall, black man with startlingly white wool on head and chin, and only one eye. An almost constant smile reveals clean, even teeth, all of his own original set. Despite his years the venerable ex-slave is active, "puttering" in the garden and doing handy jobs around the house to eke out his simple livelihood. John was born in Morgan City, Louisiana, in 1841, the property of Alred Williams whom he terms "a real good marster.  In spite of such eulogies John was a runaway during the Civil War and served three years in the Federal army. Among his most vivid recollections are experience during Sherman's historic march through Georgia and South Carolina; and the siege of Vicksburg. The old man came to Jefferson county in 1870 while fleeing from activities of the Ku Klux Klan, and since that time has been employed by many of the pioneer families of the vicinity, the Arceneaux , Broussards , Levys and others.

I was bo'n near Morgan City, Lou'sana. 'Twas a ol' log cabin wid a dirt flo', one big room was all, suh. My father an' mudder an' fo' chil'ren. D' fus' wuk I done dey start me t' plowin'. I was 'bout a ten r' twelve year ol' boy den'; dey plow oxen. I jus' play 'roun's I was growin' up. Well, d' marster he live in a big ol' box house near us. I kin' 'member' bout five rooms, but lots has slipped my rememory. I haven't got recollection like I uster. Well, dey had a house servant dat done d' cookin' an' cleanin' up. Now dat was my mudder done dat.  I nevah fin' any nigger befo' d' war dat coul' read. Dey was preachin' t' d' slaves. It was Cath'lic. I was bo'n 'n' raise' Cath'lic. Dey was trablin' (traveling) priests. Long 'bout '63, I go to d' army. I don' 'member how ol' I was but dere was fo' of us mens run away from home, me an' my father an' 'nuther man by d' name of Emanuel Young an' 'nuther man I dis'member his name now. Dat was 'bout d' middle of October 's near's I kin 'member. D' Yankees comed 'bout a mile from dere. Dey stayed dere three days. Well, we had jus' got d' crop w'en d' Yankees come dere. Dey tuk ever' yere (ear) of co'n, kill' ever' head of stock, kill' thir'teen hawgs an' 'bout fi'teen beeves. Dey jus' tuk it an' feed dere teams an' feed demselves. Dey pay d' ol' lady fo' it in Confederate money, but it wuh'rn long befo' dat was no money at all. W'en we think of all dat good food w'at dem Yankees done got, we jus' up an' 'jine up wid dem. We figger we git lot t' eat an' d' res' we 'jus didn' figger. W'en d' Yankees lef' we go to. I stayed 'way two year' an' eight mont's. My father got kill' durin' d' war. It was on a Thursday mornin'. Nobody know how it was. Dey didn' see nobody shoot 'im 'cause it was an ambush. D' bullet go in yere an' come out 'bout yere. Wait a minit, I call d' name of d' place. It was in Miss'ippi, but I can't think it jus' now. It can't come t' my remembrance, yes. Now I think it was Jackson.

Dat was in '63 dat I went in d' army. W'en d' war fus' start we didn' know anyt'ing 'bout it. Now dey was sumpin' else. D' only way we know dey was sumpthin' d' ol' boss man lef' d' house an' stay out in d' woods 'bout three week'. Den he was captured out dere in d' wood'. Dey brought 'im in t' d' house an' he had t' go t' d' war. Dey git d' overseer in his place. A cullud woman dere she kill' d' overseer. She jus' wouldn' wuk fo' nuthin'. She kill' 'im dead an' bury 'im. She had a piece of i'on 'bout dis' long (2 feet long). She bust' his skull. Dey nevah did nuthin' t' her 'til after d' big boss he come back from d' war. Dey tried t' make 'er go back an' wuk an' she wouldn' some more. She beat d' boss man up an' put 'im in bed fo' six mont's, but she got kill'. W'en I went wid d' army I went t' Miss'ippi, den we went t' Sou' Ca'lina. I went thru' Geo'gia an' Sou' Ca'lina wid Sherman's army. Well, you see d' fus' battle I go into las' two days an' nights. Dey was 'bout 800 men kill' near's I kin 'member. Some of 'em you coul' fin' d' head but couldn' fin' no body den sometimes you coul' fin' d' body an' not d' head. Dat was d' battle of Vicksburg. After d' battle it tuk three days t' bury dem w'at got kill'. Dey had eight mule t' throw big furrows back dis way, an' put 'em in an' cover 'em up. Dey didn' bury 'em like dey does now. In d' same town was a well 'bout 75 'r 80 feet deep. Dey put 19 dead bodies in dat well an' fill 'er up. Near's I kin' 'member it was night w'en we march thru' (Vicksburg) an' I couldn' see much of it. After d' war w'en we went thru' Sou' Ca'lina we come back t' Atlanta, Geo'gia, an' stay dere three weeks. Den dere was another place we stay. I couldn' think of d' name of it now. Den we stop at Montgomery, an' was dere two day'. We come on back t' Miss'ippi an' den went t' Florida. Dey was'n no actual fight'in' in Florida. W'en d' surrender come I was'n in Miss'ippi. I was in Montgomery. D' nigger troops was mix' wid d' others. Dey was'n no nigger officers. W'en I was in d' army I had uniform, gun an' bed jus' like d' other sojers. W'en d' south'ners captured niggers w'at was fightin' fo' d' Yankees, dey quick put 'em in prison; dey never sen' 'em back t' dere owners tho'. I been in No'th Ca'lina, Sou' Ca'lina an' Virginia. After d' war I come home t' see my mudder an' d' folks. I was glad t' see 'em an' d' w'ite folks too, an' dey was glad t' see me. Dey talk t' me 'bout goin' 'way t' d' war, an' ax all 'bout w'at we done, but d' ol' marster he never didn' fuss 'bout it. Fo' long time I wuk on' d' ol' plantation fo' wages. I 'member 'bout den d' Klu Klux come. W'en dat begin t' happen, I lef' home an' come t' Texas. No mam, dey never git after me, but some dey got after an' some dey kill.' I know sev'rel men dey whip' purty bad. I know dey was a man by d' name of Narcisse Young . Dey notify 'im dey was comin'. He sen' 'is wife off t' her father an' he stay dere. W'en dey come dere, dey surroun' d' house, but he wasn' in d' house, he was in d' woods, he was in d' trees, an' he open fire an' kill' seben of 'em. Dey was a cullud man wid 'em. W'en d' res' dey go off, d' cullud man he come back an' ask Narcisse can he git doze dead bodies. Narcisse he tol' 'im, "yes, t' take 'em away from yere right now," an' den' he lef' an' went t' N'Yawlins (New Orleans). I thought it was sumpthin' great t' be free an' dats why I went wid d' Yankees but sometimes I wish I hadn't. W'en you see one t'ousan' (1,000) guns point at you an' you don' know w'at time you goin'ter fall--I think I stay in d' woods if I was young 'nuff t' go t' war agin'. D' way dey did put a hunnerd men in front an' dey shoot an' fall down, an' den a hunnerd men behin' git up an' shoot over 'em an' dat d' way dey go for'ard. Dey was'n no goin' back, 'cause dem men behin' you woul' shoot you. I seen 'em fightin' close 'nuff t'gether t' knock one 'nuther wid a bay'net an' stick it clear thru' em. I didn' see no breech loaders guns. Dey was all mustetts (muskets), muzzle loaders. Dey shoot a ball 'bout 's big 's yo' finger. Dat was call' a minnie-ball. Dey sing w'en dey come thru' d' air. Dey had cannons w'ich was on wagons. I seen lot of men wid no head on 'em, dey fall right on yo' sojer (shoulder). Dat war wasn' no fun. I got a sis'er (sister) livin' w'at got all my papers from d' army, but I never git nuthin' from dem yet. W'en I come to Taylor's Bayou 'bout '70, I was ridin' stock fo' long time fo' Mister Arceneaux (F. A.) an' Mister Moeese (Moise ) Broussard . We farm some too. Den I come t' Bo'mont t' live wid one my girls. Well, dats d' whole story's I kin recollect. I got t' go men' (mend) dat ol' rackety screen at Mis' Levy's fo' d' 'skeeters come.