Sacred Texts
African
African-American
Drums and Shadows - Grimball's Point

Grimball's Point

Grimball's Point, lying at the northwestern end of the Isle of Hope on the marshes and creeks that run from the wide Skidaway River, is one of the characteristic spots of Savannah's rural landscape. The lowland spreads grassy flats against the horizon; the squawks of marsh hen rise from the long reeds on Grimball's Creek; all the year round a familiar sight is the Negro fisherman sitting patiently in his small bateau or trudging with is plump catch up an old oak-shaded shell road.

A few white residents maintain comfortable summer homes at Grimball's Point, but the settlers scattered on the southern part of the point are Negroes, former slaves and descendants of slaves who once worked the great plantations on the Isle of Hope and other near-by islands. Some of the inhabitants are employed on Grimball's Point hunting preserve, while others are farmers or fishermen. Their abodes are frame bungalows with front porches or little shacks of one or two rooms, but most of the dwellings are surrounded by sun-dappled yards, fenced with boards or chicken wire. Each has its backyard pump as there is no running water.

One of the ten Negro families on the point, young and old believe in signs and auguries. "Catfish Tom" William, Habersham Gibson, and Solomon Gibson professed to know that ¹some signs sho do wuk. Thomas Tuten, who has spent his fifty-eight years on the island, warned us that, ²yuh sho has tuh watch people cuz dey kin do yuh. Aging Aunt Cinda Smith, employed on the old Wiley place is given the respect of all the settlers as one who can read signs and interpret dreams.

Solomon Gibson's wife, ³Mary Liza, a slender black woman of about forty, came to the island from Skidaway upon her marriage. She was an amiable person, not at all disinclined to an interview.

^3aI kin cook and wash an ion an make baskets an do anyting roun duh house, she said. Yes, I belieb in many signs. Yuh musn sweep out duh doe aftuh dahk an it bad luck tuh split a tree wen yuh's walkin. Deah's two signs uh det. Ef duh dog holluhs aw a owl hoffuhs, somebody is gonuh die. I lun all dis frum duh ole people an I know it's true.

⁴Bruurs Butler, well past three score and ten worked for ^4aCapm Wiley for nearly thirty years and is still an able field hand. He owns his small house, which is equipped with electricity and a radio.

^4bI wuz bawn on DeRenne place, he told us, an my mothuh an fathuh wuz owned by Mistuh DeRenne. My fathuh wuz a second sergeant in the Confederate Ahmy. None of us lef duh plantation aftuh duh waw. I wuk crops fuh Mistuh DeRenne till I wuz a young man.

We asked if there had been any Gullah Negroes on the Isle of Hope in the old days and he nodded.

^4cUse tuh be many 'Golla' people roun yuh but dey all died out. Dey tell me them people could do all kine uh curious tings. Dey could make fahm tools wuk fuh em jis by talkin tuh um. An, he added soberly, some of um good disappeah at will. Wist! And dey'd be done gone

^4dYuh askin me bout signs? Well, he appeared amused, yuh'll fine that ef yuh believe sumpm is bad luck an yuh look fuh bad luck, yuh gonuh fine bad luck. Deah's some signs that come frum Gawd, though, and these is unfailin. Lak dreams and foewahnin not tuh do dis aw dat.

One of the oldest of the residents is white-haired ⁵F. J. Jackson who remembers his childhood days on ^5a Massah George Wiley plantation when many freed Negroes stayed on to work in the cotton fields. Years have weakened his once sturdy frame and slowed down both thought and gesture, but the light of humor still gleams in his dimmed eyes. We found Jackson in the kitchen of his comfortable frame bungalow, a new house built to replace a little old shanty that was burned down. He was making a casting net, his twisted old fingers still deft with the cords. He conversed like one glad of congenial company.

^5bDoes I membuh ole times?, he repeated. Yes, I dohn git away frum dis place much now an uh jis sit roan an tink ub a long time ago. Deah wuzn no automobiles an duh only way tuh git tuh Savannah wuz by duh mule an caht aw git in duh road wid yuh foots. Not many uh duh people still livin wut come long wid me. Dey's bout gone. Me an ole man Bruurs Butluh's bout duh onlies ones lef uh duh fus settluhs.

^5cYes, I membuhs duh plantation days. Massuh George wuz a slave dealuh to duh waw, an he tuk us all, muh grandaddy, Lewis Hargray, an muh maw, an muh daddy--I name attuh him. Massah George use tuh buy an sell but he wuz a good man an lot uh his slaves stay wid im on duh fahm attuh freedom. Dat big house in duh ben uh duh road wuz weah he lib, an dey still got duh ball an chain an duh banjo table in duh house now.

^5dWen I lef duh fahm an moob tuh duh pint, ain but five wite families yuh. Ain no roadn nuttn, jis woods. I done a lot uh huntin an fishin. Deah wuz plenty ud deahs roun yuh.

^5eI use tuh go back tuh duh fahm on Satdy night fuh duh big times. Dey hab wut yuh call shouts. Wut kine uh music did us hab? Jackson's aged eyes twinkled. We use drum an fife and we made duh drum frum holluh beehive lawg. I tell yuh how we done it. Yuh cut duh lawg an tak a deah hid an stretch obuh duh hole. Den yuh cut a hoop ban dat could lock roun duh lawg. Den yuh cut strips uh deah hide and make bans tuh hole duh head cuvvuh tight. How yuh make duh fife? Well, yuh jis cut reed cane.

^5fLots uh udduh tings we make our ownsef, said the old man. All the fishing cawd made out uh deah hide, and we make mos uh duh house needs sech as cheahs an tables, baskets an buckets an stools, and sometime spoons an beds and Cubbuds. Oh, deah's much I caahn tell off han.

Jackson's wife, who was not many years past middle age, came in about this time, greeted us, and sat down to listen.

^5gWut dis bout signs? Jackson laughed. Sho I knows a few. Deah's some dat foetell wut comin. Wen yuh see duh hawgs bring straw in deah mouf, it's a sho sign wintuh goin to be cole. Ef duh roostuh com in duh doe and crow an den go out, it's sho sign uh sorruh in dat house. Duh owl is a true messenjuh uh det, an wen yuh see a bunch uh crows flock up, yuh jis watch out fuh a fewnul. Deah's many signs an wunduhs. Duh Bible tell us so. I had a buckeye fuh many yeahs dat keep off bad luck. I use tuh have a hawse shoe ovuh duh doe uh duh ole house wut bun down, but I ain put one on dis un yet.

^5hRootn?he shook his head disdainfully. I seen duh root man say he tak wuhrums an pins an tings out uh people, but belieb it's some trick. I ain got no fait in dat stuff.

^6aBut I have, put in ⁶his wife. Muh brothuh-in-law wuz fixed by his wife. Not muh sistuh but anothuh woman. He tun intuh a invalid an laid down helpless fuh twenny-five yeahs. None uh the medical doctuhs couldn hep im, an sevral root doctuhs wuz called in. One of um said nuthin couldn be dun fuh im cuz the pusson that put im in this fix wuz dead and theah wuzn nobody tuh throw it back tuh. So he had tuh linguh on till finally it reached his haht an he died.

Jackson scratched his bristly chin and smiled sheepishly. ⁵ⁱI do belieb in some rootn, he said, but uh didn wannuh talk too fas. I seen a root man tak is bag an in it wuz needles an pins an grabeyahd dut an sulphuh an rusty nails, an he made it crawl.

^5jBut nuttn evuh done me hahm. he went on in his gentle voice. I alluz got wut I want all deze yeahs. Cuz yuh know why? I hab a black cat bone.

We had heard of the potency of the black cat bone. Other Negroes had told us that it could ward off conjure, cure sickness, or even give its possessor the power to fly. Thus far, however, we had met no one who had acquired so miraculous a charm.

How did you get the bone? we excitedly queried. We summoned up visions of Jackson creeping in the dead of night to some lonely spot near a cemetery and shooting a black cat between its glowing green eyes. The actual facts proved far different.

^5kWen I wuz a young man said Jackson. I ketched a big black cat. Den I made a big fyuh in duh yahd and put on a pot uh watuh and let it come tuh a bile. Den I tied duh black cat up and put im in duh watuh alibe an put a weight obuh duh pot tuh keep him in and uh let im bile to pieces. Den I strain duh stoo an separate duh bones an I shut muh eyes and pull duh bones tru muh mouf till uh got the right one. All deze yeahs I kep dat bone an nuttn ebuh do me no ebil.

¹some signs sure do work.
²You sure have to watch people because they can do you.
³Mary Liza Gibson, Grimball's Point.
^3aI can cook and wash and iron and make baskets and do anything around the house. Yes, I beleive in many signs. You mustn't sweep out the door after dark and it's bad luck to split a tree when you're walking. There are two signs of death. If a dog howls or an owl hoots, somebody is going to die. I learned all of this from the old people and I know that it's true.
⁴Bruurs Butler, Grimball's Point.
^4aCaptain Wiley.
^4bI was born on DeRenne place, and my mother and father were owned by Mister DeRenne. My father was a second sergeant in the Confederate Army. None of us left the plantation after the war. I worked crops for Mister DeRenne until I was a young man.
^4cUse to be many 'Gullah' people around here but they all died out. They tell me those people could do all kinds of curious things. They could make farm tools work for them just by talking to them. And, some of them could disappear at will. Wist! And they'd be gone.
^4dYou're asking me about signs? Well, you'll find that if you believe something is bad luck and you look for bad luck, you're going to find bad luck. There are some signs that come from God, though, and these are unfailing. Like dreams and forewarnings not to do this or that.
⁵F. J. Jackson, Grimball's Point. Deceased July, 1940
^5aMaster George Wiley's Plantation.
^5bDo I remember old times? Yes, I don't get away from this place much now and I just sit around and think of a long time ago. There wasn't any automobiles and the only way to get to Savannah was by the mule and cart or get in the road with your feet. Not many of the people are still living that came along with me. They're about gone. Me and old man Bruur's Butler are about the only ones left of the first settlers.
^5cYes, I remember the plantation days. Master George was a slave dealer up until the war, and he took us all, my grandaddy, Lewis Hargray, and my mother and my father--I'm named after him. Master George use to buy and sell but he was a good man and a lot of his slaves stayed with him on the farm after freedom. That big house in the bend of the road was where he lived, and they still got the ball and chain and the banjo table in the house now.
^5dWhen I left the farm and moved to the point, there wasn't but five white families here. There wasn't any roads or anything, just woods. I did a lot of hunting and fishing. There was plenty of deer around here.
^5eI use to go back to the farm on Saturday night for the big times. They have what you call shouts. What kind of music did we have? We used drum and fife and we made the drum from hollowed beehive log. I'll tell you how we did it. You cut the log and take a deer hide and stretch it over the hole. Then you cut a hoop band that can lock around the log. Then you cut strips of the deer hide and make bands to hold the head cover tight. How do you make the fife? Well, you just cut reed cane.
^5fLots of other things we make our ownselves. All the fishing cord is made out of deer hide, and we make most of the house needs such as chairs and tables, baskets and buckets and stools, and sometimes spoons and beds and cupboards. Oh, there's much I can tell off hand.
^5gWhat's this about signs? Sure I know a few. There's some the foretell what's coming. When you see the hogs bring straw in their mouth, it's a sure sign the winter is going to be cold. If the rooster comes in the doors and crows and then goes out, it's a sure sign of sorrow in that house. The owl is a true messenger of death and when you see a bunch of crows flock up, you just watch out for a funeral. There's many signs and wonders. The Bible tells us so. I had a buckeye for many years that kept off bad luck. I use to have a horseshoe over the door of the old house that burned down, but I haven't put one on this one yet.
^5hRooting. I heard the root man say that he took worms and pins and things out of people, but I believe it's some trick. I haven't got any faith in that stuff.
⁵ⁱI do believe in some rooting, but I didn't want to talk too fast. I saw a root man take his bag and in it was needles and pins and graveyard dirt, and sulfur, and rusty nails, and he made it crawl.
^5jBut nothing ever done me harm. I always got what I wanted all these years. Because you know why? I have a black cat bone.
^5kWhen I was a young man. I caught a big black cat. Then I made a big fire in the yard and put on a pot of water and let it come to a boil. Then I tied the black cat up and put him in the water alive and put a weight over the pot to keep him in and let him boil to pieces. Then I strained the stew and separated the bones and I shut my eyes and pulled the bones through my mouth until I got the right one. All these years I kept that bone and nothing ever did me any evil.
⁶Della Jackson, Grimball's Point.
^6aBut I have. My brother-in-law was fixed by his wife. Not my sister but another woman. He turned into an invalid and laid down helpless for twenty-five years. None of the medical doctors could help him, and several root doctors were called in. One of them said nothing could be done for him because the person that put him in this fix was dead, and there wasn't anybody to throw it back to. So he had to linger on until finally it reached his heart and he died.

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