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Title: Interview with Monologue (July 14, 1971)
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Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00008200/00001
 Material Information
Title: Interview with Monologue (July 14, 1971)
Alternate Title: Monologue
Physical Description: Book
Language: English
Publication Date: July 14, 1971
 Subjects
Spatial Coverage: Lumbee County (Fla.)
 Notes
Funding: This text has been transcribed from an audio or video oral history. Digitization was funded by a gift from Caleb J. and Michele B. Grimes.
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00008200
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: Samuel Proctor Oral History Program, Department of History, University of Florida
Holding Location: This interview is part of the 'Lumbee County' collection of interviews held by the Samuel Proctor Oral History Program of the Department of History at the University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: LUM 231

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        Copyright
    Interview
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This Oral History is copyrighted by the Interviewee
and the Samuel Proctor Oral History Program on
behalf of the Board of Trustees of the University of
Florida.

Copyright, 2005, University of Florida.
All rights, reserved.

This oral history may be used for research,
instruction, and private study under the provisions
of Fair Use. Fair Use is a provision of United States
Copyright Law (United States Code, Title 17, section
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Fair use limts the amount of material that may be
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SAMUEL PROCTOR ORAL HISTORY PROGRAM at
the University of Florida






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MONOLOGUE: Adolph Dial, Miscellaneous Field Notes

DATE: July 14, 1971



D: Today is July 14, 1971. I was at the home of Mrs. Anna L. Lowry about

an hour ago, and had a conversation with Mrs. Lowry. Mrs. Lowry is

now age 84, her birthday on July 4. She is the widow of the late

James Oxendine, also Mr. Anderson Locklear, and Mr. Henry Lowry. Mr.

Henry Lowry is the nephew of Henry Barry Lowry. Mrs. Anna Lowry also,

is what we figured out to be fourth cousin to Henry Barry Lowry. In

the conversation with Mrs. Anna Lowry, I asked what happened to Henry

Barry Lowry. Mrs. Anna Lowry stated in her conversation that Mr. Henry

Lowry, the nephew of Henry Barry Lowry, and her husband at that time,

said that Henry -Barry Lowry was buried in the, in Back Swamp, in the

runs of a stream. She explained that Mr. Henry said that a deep hole

was dug, and he was buried very deep in this hole. They dammed the

stream,temporarily dammed the stream so they could dig the hole, and

then they covered the hole up, and let the water run through again,

and put everything back like it was, and camouflaged the position

where no one would ever know, or see any tracks and so forth. Someone

even covered up the tracks and so forth, so he would never be found.

So, according to her story, Henry Barry Lowry was buried in Back Swamp

canal, or Back Swamp, in the run of a stream, I should say. There is

a canal through Back Swamp today. In recording history, of course, we

always record all sides, and, no later than last night, the Reverend

D.F. Lowry, who is a brother to the late Henry Lowry, and who is also

a nephew of Henry Barry Lowry,...Reverend D.F. Lowry, speaking to the

Kiwanis Club, stated that he thought that Henry Barry Lowry went away,

and he told the story as is told in William McGhee Evans' book,





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To Die Again, and here, as the Lowrys told to Evans, as the story is

told to Evans by the Reverend D.F. Lowry, that Henry Barry Lowry was

talking with Marcus Dial on one occasion, who is my1grandfather, and

stated that he had a chance to go away with the army, and he wanted

to know what he felt about taking up the boys on this opportunity,

and Marcus said, "Well, if I were you, I believe I would go." And

Marcus stated to the Reverend D.F. Lowry, "Well, that's what I am

going to do. I am going away with them." I might add here, that

Mrs. Anna Lowry was married to two well-known Indians: Mr. Henry

Lowry, who was one of the outstanding ministers of his day, and

also to Mr. Anderson Locklear, who was one of the pioneer educators

in this community, and Pembroke State University today has a building

named for Mr. Locklear, called Locklear Hall. Mrs. Anna stated in her

conversation that if Mr. Henry, if he were living today, she wouldn't

tell this story, but now that he was deceased, she would say it. In

her conversation, talking about other things, in her young years, I

asked her what she remembered doing most in the way of working, and so

forth, and she said, "Working for white people." And I also asked her

what, how she felt about Henry Barry Lowry's contribution. She felt that

he did have a job to do, and he did his job well. She also related in

the conversation, that Henry Barry Lowry's mother, Polly, or sometimes

known as Polly Mary Lowry, was in the smokehouse with William and Allen,

at the time, well, on the day that they were taken to the grave, and

they dig their own grave and were shot. And that there was some talk of

burning the smokehouse down with them in there, and Mrs. Lowry was in

the smokehouse too. But last night, at Kiwanis Club, as Reverend D.T.

Lowry spoke to the Kiwanis Club, he spoke that some of the white people

on the outside, when they were, some were saying, "Well, let's burn the





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smokehouse down. Let's burn them up in the smokehouse." And some of

the white people said, "No, no. Don't burn that smokehouse. There's

a woman in there, let's not do this, and so forth." There are those

Lumbees who feel that Henry Barry Lowry was killed accidentally with

his own gun in the Burnt Swamp community at the home of Tom Lowry.

And of course, there are those who say that he went away, but I feel

that the significant point is that no one was ever able to collect

the reward for Henry Barry Lowry's body, although they sent in federal

troops to get this man dead or alive. No one was ever able to collect

a single penny for his body, and to me, this is outstanding. If

he had gone away, one could say, well, he deserted his people when they

were hot on his trail, and you could look at it and say, well, golly,

he was really brilliant to still live and no one was able to find him.

But you could look at it another way too, and say that he stayed right

here till the very end, so I think that this is part of the romance

of the story is that if we knew that he went away, of if we knew that

he died here, this would take part of the romance out. I do have the

Lowry story, written in his own handwriting on what happened

to Henry Barry Lowry, and of course, his story is that he died at the

home of his brother Tom. By the way, Mrs. Lowry related,Mrs. Anna Lowry

related to me that it was about two o'clock at night when he was

carried into Back Swamp and buried. Thinking along this line of Lumbee

history, and thinking of the Burnt Swamp community, I am reminded of a

story that was told by Judge Early Bullard, age 83, or 84, a couple of

weeks ago, and in conversation on one Sunday afternoon, with my mother

and Judge Bullard, and his son Clement Bullard, they all told me the

story of my grandfather, no my great-grandfather, Huey Oxendine in the

Burnt Swamp community, who always made lots of wine and he would have





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lots of white people visiting his home, drinking wine, and so forth, and

naturally this caused some disturbance among the white women of the

community, and the Burnt Swamp community. So, they told me and

I've always heard this story since a boy, since my boyhood days, they

told me that the women, that the white women of the __' community

met together and prayed for my great-grandfather Huey Qxendine, who

was a Lumbee Indian, prayed for his grapevines to die. I think this

is rather interesting. This is not the only story that I've known

about people praying for bootleggers and so forth, to something to

happen where they wouldn't be able to sell anymore wine, or wouldn't

be able to sell anymore whiskey, or whatever they happened to be

selling in the alcoholic beverage line. Speaking of grapevines, my

grandfather's farm, a lady lives on this farm by the name of Mrs.

Julie Locklear, who still is living today, and the widow 6f Mr.

Frank Locklear. Mrs. Julie Locklear moved from the farm, and before

she left, she didn't want to move, and before she left, she cut the

grapevines down, and my grandfather Marcus Dial, and I might say that

in this way, she acted more effective on grapevines than prayer.

Speaking of humor today, I am reminded of a story told by Professor

Oxendine, a former professor of history at Pembroke State University.

I shared an office with him for some twelve years, and he was quite an

authority, and still is, on Lumbee history. And he tells about the time

that some of the local Lumbee boys went down to Camp Jackson, North

Carolina, ...Camp Jackson, South Carolina during the First World War,

World War I. And there were, as well as I recall, less than a dozen

of these boys, and there was such men as Chalie Bullard, and Luther

Moore, and Rodney Locklear, and John Locklear, and others. The

first sergeant at reveille one morning was calling the roll, and he





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says, "Locklear, John!" And John Locklear says, "Sergeant, you've

called my name backwards!" And the sergeant says, "We'll have no

more wisecracks out of you!" The thing was, the thing about it is

that Locklear had never been away from home too much, as many of the

boys of the area,prior to World War I the boys had spent most of

their entire lives, as most of the Lumbee people, in the Lumbee

community, so going to the war was something, something very unusual

in a way, and it was something that, there was, it carried a lot of

anxiety, no one knew exactly what was going to happen. Among these

boys that I spoke of, L.W. Moore stated to me once, the late L.W.

Moore, in a conversation that the captain of the company at the end

of the training session said, and he called the Indian boys whose

names were Charlie Bullard, John Locklear, Luther Moore, and

others, he says, "I'd rather go overseas with a half-dozen of these

Indian boys, than a whole damn company of you white fellas." I began

my career at Pembroke State University in the fall of 1958. In the

first year, or maybe the second year at Pembroke State University,

I went down to Fairmont, North Carolina, about twenty, twenty-two

miles from Pembroke State. In this crowd was two 6 the first white

students to enroll at what was then Pembroke State College. My wife,

myself, James Arnold Jacobs, uh, Miss Sarah Bell, as she was known

Miss Sarah Sampson, and Miss Doris Hammonds, and some others.

We decided after a program at Pembroke State University to go down

to the Twin State Warehouse to a square dance. So we were all well-

dressed and looking our best, and I was standing at the head of the line,

and I was going to pick up all the tickets, and all the others were in

line behind me. And I noticed a cop leaning against the warehouse, and

he kept eyeing us, and he kindly walked over, and he said to me, I was





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in the head of the line, so I guess he decided he would talk with

me, he said, "Are you from Pembroke?" I said, "Yes." He says, "Are

you Indian?" I replied, "Yes." "Well," he says, "you can't go in."

So I saidV "Okay" and we all walked away, and no one mentioned the

conversation on the way back. I think the significant point here is

that he wanted to know if we were from Pembroke, and then he was not

sure if we were Indian or not, as he thought maybe were white. But

since we were Indian, and since we:,were from Pembroke, we couldn't

attend the dance. My mother always enjoyed telling the story going

over to Red Springs, North Carolina and going into the drugstore

or into the restaurant, and they didn't know she was Indian, she

would fool them. So finally they discovered that she was Indian, and

they wouldn't serve her after they discovered that she was Indian.Before

I entered World War II, I went to the barbershop and got a haircut.

As far as I know, I was one of the few Indians ever to get a haircut

up to that time in the Red Springs Barbershop.I had my mind made up

that day. I knew I was going overseas soon. As a matter of fact, I was

home from basic training, it was. And I knew I was going overseas soon,

and I had my mind made up, that if he gave me any trouble, we would

have a good little fight, right in his own barbershop, because I knew

there wouldn't be much difference in serving time and going overseas

fighting for somewhat, at that particular time, a white man's cause.





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