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Black Life in the Sacramento Valley (1919-1934) (36 pages)

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Page: of 36

Black Life in the Sacramento Valley Page 6 of 37
informed me that it was her bed, and to keep on one side, which I did.
Mama was a very decent person. She never took anything that didn't belong to her, and she always gave
you a straight answer. She would keep her mouth shut and not say anything, rather than tell a lie. She
had the greatest influence on me, to be honest in your relationships with other people in the world. She
was the most wonderful person I have ever known.
2. ONE FAMILY'S STORY
The story of my family's migration to California from the Deep South was a typical one.
My mother's maiden name was Jackson, and her family came originally from Montgomery, Alabama.
Thomas M. Jackson, one of my mother's older brothers, volunteered in the Spanish-American War in
1898, probably as a way to get out of Montgomery. They shipped him to the Philippines, and he fought
in one of the all-black infantry units. After the Americans defeated the Spanish forces, the U.S. Army
stayed over there for occupation purposes for a while, and my uncle came back around 1901.
San Francisco was a point of embarkation, and after the war, like a number of black soldiers, he decided
to stay. He got a job as a clerk in the post office right away, and made San Francisco his home. This
pattern would be repeated on a bigger scale following World War II.
The next to arrive in California was my step-grandmother, Annie Powers, who always regarded us as
family, even though she wasn't blood kin. She was my maternal grandfather's last wife, who had married
Grandpa Jackson while my mother was still a little girl. She stayed with him until he died. Annie
became a maid for a wealthy white family in Montgomery, and when they went on a trip to New York,
they took her along. She had never been out of the South before. She went with them on a cross-country
trip by train to San Francisco, then to Hawaii. When they returned to San Francisco, Granny met with
Uncle Tom, and he told her she'd be a fool to go back to Alabama. So she left the white family and
stayed behind.
In San Francisco, she met a black man named Peter Powers, who was much older than her. He owned
quite a bit of land in Chico and was looking for a wife. So she married him and moved up there. When
my mother got divorced in Florida, Granny invited her to come to Chico, and sent her a train ticket,
because my mother had no money.
Like almost every black woman in Chico, Mama worked as a domestic for a white family. It was very
tiring, because she had to keep the house clean, do the laundry and cook the meals. She worked 10 hours
a day, easily. Domestics received such low wages. I don't think Mama ever earned over $45 a month.
Moses Mosley, Mama's second husband, was a nephew of Granny Powers. By the time I came out, Kate
was calling him Papa, because she didn't get to know her real father. Moses seemed to be genuinely fond
of her, but he looked at me with suspicious eyes, because I called him Mr. Mosley. Or we both would
look directly at one another and just start talking. It was a strange thing. I couldn't call him Dad, because
I had just left my father in New York.
Our relationship was always wary toward one another. We had a sort of truce between us. He would tell
my mother if he wanted me to do something; he wouldn't tell me directly. He handled me very gingerly,
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