When I was a little girl, I was Caroline Walker , but all of the folks called me Carrie . The white folks kept the records and they said that I was bawn on September 15, 1862. I was bawn on the Hines ' cotton plantation, near Kirven, Freestone County. Kirven was once known as Bonner. Sophie Hines was my mother. She was tall and stout and goodsized. Oh, Lord she was the mother of twelve children. Me and my sister, Mary Bell Hulen of Austin are the only ones now livin'. Mother was a fahm hand, and she could pick her three and four hundred pounds of cotton a day. Then she had to take care of us and also do all of her cookin'. There was times when she had to help with the spinnin' and weavin' at the big house. Mother says that she never did git no whoopin's from her mawster. Mother was sold from a block somewhere in Georgia. Then she was brought to Texas. She died about thirty-three years ago. Mark Walker was a mulatto, and he was my father. I think he was brought from Mississippi to Georgia. It was while he was in Georgia, that he was onwed by a family of teachers. They even allowed him to come into the room to play, and he listened to the white folks, and soon learned how to read and write. Then he got books and read 'em. He was soon a good reader. In this way he began learnin' the other slaves how to read and write. The other slave owners said that he was gittin' to be too smart, so they was goin' to whoop him. One day they caught him and said, 'Git down on your knees and pray, we're goin' to kill you.' While father was on his knees prayin' a man walked up to each side of him and stuck the point of a gun into each one of his ears. He was scared and he prayed. Suddenly he throwed up his hands against the guns, and ducked into the brush. He swam creeks and rivers and hid out in the brush. Then he made his way to Texas. Father was a good carpenter and he was one even in slavery time. He was also a Baptist preacher.

There was the time when he helped to build a large institute of some kind up in Freestone County. He helped to lay the foundation for the Sam Huston College here in Austin. It was a long time ago when father was helpin' to build a three-story buildin' and he fell to the ground. He broke his arms and ribs, and he never lived over it. I was fifteen years old when I got married to Denmark Walton . He had been owned by the famous Major Buck Walton . He was a big judge of Travis County. I heard that he never lost a case. Major Walton would have a good case at hand and sometimes in the middle of it he would say, 'Gentlemen of the jury, this case has to rest till I git back.' Then he would go out and git himself a dram of liquor. Then he would start back and plead his case again. Judge Walton was a mighty fine man, and all of the niggers here in Austin liked him. The judge had a big fahm out on de upper Georgetown road, a few miles north of Austin. He sure was a fine man. Me and Denmark had ten children, one girl, Lucille , and she's the only one in the family that never got married. We had nine boys: Eddie , Jesse , Mark , Steve , Harris , Wille , Osborne , Stacy and one other that died when he was a baby. Of them all I have only the one girl and three boys left. After we got married I sure had to go out in the fields and work. I could pick, like my mother, about three and four hundred pounds of cotton a day. Then on top of that I had to tend to my kids, and do all of my cookin'. But that outside work helped me and even at my age, I don't have rheumatism like other folks. Denmark also done yard work and other work here in Austin for General Stacy , the big real estate man. Our baby boy, Stacy , was named for the general. He was a fine man, and was good to us. I had a good education when I was a girl, and I don't talk like most of the other negroes. I have always been interested in education. We have always worked for the best of white folks, and they have always treated us right. I went to school at an age when my feet didn't even touch the floor. More than once I fell out of the seat and on to the floor. I reckon I was about eight years old and it was after freedom broke out. A Mr. Billingsley , a white man, was my first teacher. He was a very good man and a fine teacher. He was a good man to us children. At that time, we didn't have negro teachers. A Mr. Henry was the next teacher. I was good at my studies. I liked spellin' and readin' the best. One day I outspelled the class with the one word - sugar. They wanted to spell it suger, and I spelled it right. It was at the time when I was about ten years old when I got religion, bless the Lord. From then on I went to Sunday school and church. Then I helped with missionary work in my community. I also nursed the sick folks, both the whites and the negroes. Both races love me for that today. I would keep up the good work if my weak eyes would only allow me. I was so good in my studies, that I had to go over on certain days to read the texts from the Bible to the negro preachers, so they could remember them and preach the next Sunday. You see most of the negro preachers, that started out at that time, didn't even know how to read. It was my job to help them to read. My husband's folks, and my husband too, didn't believe at one time in goin' to any kind of church. When I married into the family I got them all to goin' to church. Now all of those folks are christians.