It was in 1923 when my mother, Rilla Smith, dad, Arthur Smith, brother, Walter and I moved from Pleasant Plains Arkansas to Searcy, Arkansas. In Pleasant Plains my father taught school during the week and since he had been to barber college, he would barber on Saturday. Working at the barber shop grew old fast for him. He said the work would have been enjoyable if the men who came would get haircuts every month and not every three to four months. The extra long hair plus the extra long beards turned him off to barbering.

In 1936, the state of Arkansas was 100 years old. Searcy High School put on a commemorative program that was written up in The Citizen as very well done and true to history.
The main part I remember was my role in the play. There were about 18 or 20 Indian maidens in very authentic costumes �planting corn�. The costumes consisted of a dress with fringe on the bottom, a beaded head band and pantaloons. We saw no reason to make complete pantaloons, so we just made the leggings with elastic on the top. That was a mistake. Each time we bent over to plant a seed, people could see above the elastic of the leggings. We were embarrassed when we found this out because things were much more modest in those days. Most of the audience was very kind and told us it was a good program.

J.D., Adele and Winfield Smith

I was about 9 years old in 1929 when I met an elderly gentleman named Jim Brewer. Jim was about 80-90 years old in 1929. He lived alone in a shanty behind the �Dictionary House� at Park Ave. and Main in Searcy, Arkansas. It was called this because the W.E. Word family lived there and had a sign on the front saying �Dictionary House�.His shanty was one room with a five foot porch across the front that abutted the sidewalk.
Jim had been born into slavery at the Brewer Plantation in the Dogwood Community, south of Griffithville. Mr. Brewer �owned about 1,500 acres. He cultivated about 100 acres with 100 slaves. **�He had constructed an imposing house, outbuildings, and slave quarters, from logs having a diameter between 3 and 4 feet. A two-storied smokehouse was in use as late as 1920, according to the present owner�.
Now in his late years of life, he was known as Uncle Jim by all who knew and loved him. Jim was a Christian man and often attended the Nazarene Church in Searcy which was across the street from his little house. The church was a �white� church as most everything was segregated in those days. Jim would sit on the back row by the wall, though he could have sat anywhere he wanted. From the back row, he enthusiastically shouted his heartfelt �Halleluiahs� and �Amens�, waving his arms in the air. We felt he added to the church services, which he attended both Sunday morning and evening. He was right at home and accepted in this church and by its members. The whole Smith family was known to be very musically talented and often sang at church. Uncle Jim especially enjoyed the Smith children singing.
Mayor B.L. Oliver was a frequent visitor on Sunday nights. He would often talk to Uncle Jim and their rapport pleased the old man. When he reached the point in life where he had to stay in most of the time, Mama would sometimes take food to Jim; soup, bread, buttermilk or pudding; whatever the family had to eat that he could easily eat with no teeth. The children of the Nazarene Sunday School would go to Uncle Jim�s, line up along the wall inside his little house and sing hymns and spirituals to the appreciative old man.
He spoke little of his life in slavery, but I remember a story Jim told which made an impression on me. He told of his hiding in a hayloft as the Union soldiers came through the plantation. Jim feared the soldiers would take him away to make him fight for the Union, just as they did many young slave men. He didn�t want to go, leaving his family and the only life he knew. Many slaves were treated well by their owners. While longing for freedom, they didn�t know how they would provide for themselves and their families if freed.
The Civil War and slavery ended in 1865. Few people alive in the year 2004 can say they personally knew a slave. It is one of the treasured stories I have passed on to my children and grandchildren. For me, Uncle Jim Brewer was a piece of living history and it was a blessing to know him.

**From the �History of Griffithville� by Mrs. Kathleen Howerton; published by the White Co., Historical Society

Lucille Smith

     One year, our family lived out on �Backbone Ridge�. It was 1 � miles to school, the post office or downtown. We had a Chrysler that had belonged to the funeral home, which had fold up seats behind the front seat. My dad let me drive it as far as the post office, park it and then walk on to school two blocks north. Back then, gasoline was 10 cents a gallon. If we drove the car to the top of the hill where our house was, it probably cost 30 cents to go from town to the house. For this reason, we left the car at the bottom of the hill. No one would bother it, as there wasn�t any kind of meanness going on in those days. We probably even left the key in it. There are two memories about that car that stay in my mind. First if it got dirty, we would get rags, buckets and soap, drive down to Rocky Branch and wash it. That was so much fun! Often, I would pick up other kids who lived farther out. One rainy day, I had about 15 in the car. Some old-timers might remember some of those riders; the Lemons kids, Buel Moye, the Evans brothers, plus all the Smith kids.
When our family first moved out to Back Bone Ridge, we didn�t have a car and had to walk to school or church. This wasn�t too bad until we would have a �gully washer�. That is a hard rain that made Gin Creek go over its banks. When that happened, we had to wait for the water to go down and then wade across. Of course, this was dangerous.
A man who lived farther out was Searcy�s drayman. The drayman was someone who hauled things for other people in his wagon. He also went to the local restaurants to get the food they threw out into barrels. He took it in his wagon to feed his hogs.
The drayman, Jack Barnes was a dirty old codger, but he did have a heart and felt sorry for us. He would wash out his wagon and each time a hard rain came, we could depend on Jack Barnes to meet us at Gin Creek and ride us across in his wagon. We sure appreciated his kindness.

Winfield, J.D. and Adele Smith

Lucille, Walter, Adele, Winfield, Martha, J.D., Kenneth and Alma

The Searcy High School Gym had a lot of good memories for us. Many concerts, programs of all sorts, ball games, graduations etc. were held there and it was the hub of the campus.
I�m not sure what year it was that I heard the fire whistle and someone said the gym was on fire. I was never one to follow the cars and firetrucks to fires, but the old SHS gym fire was different and I made a bee-line for the high school building where I watched the fire from the second story north window.
I cried, even though I had been out of school for time, but it was still �my gym� too. Many memories went up in smoke that day for a lot of Searcy�s citizens.

J.D. and Winfield Smith

After the High School gym burned, the basketball games had to be played in the Armory on Race St.
One night I went to the game and it was a good one. The referee wore thick glasses and a few times didn�t see the ball hit the rafters in the ceiling. Since he did not see this, Searcy lost by one point. This didn�t set well with me because most of the team was related to me. I headed for the floor, yelling at the referee that he needed new glasses when Truett Langley and James Harris stopped me. It was a good thing, because the ref was about to get a piece of my mind!
On the team was Winfield and J.D. Smith, my brothers; Gene Pasley, my double-first cousin; Willis Lewis, my first cousin and Terrapin Bell. Four out of five ain�t bad!

For many years, my dad kept the government weather box in White County. It had to be a certain distance from buildings and trees. Early each morning, he would open the door of the weather box, twirl the thermometer and when it stopped, it would show the exact temperature. Then dad would write down the time, temperature, wind, rain or anything that would let the Little Rock office know about the weather in Searcy.
He would then have one of us kids to go to the Western Union office for Vivian Knox to wire the information to Walter Hickmon in the weather bureau in Little Rock.
It�s surprising, but like the television weathermen now, some people would actually get angry at Daddy when the weather spoiled their plans.