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Plum Thickets and Field Daisies

Plum Thickets and Field Daisies

Plum Thickets and Field Daisies is Rose Leary Love's memoir of her life in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Charlotte. She left the original manuscript in the care of her friends. When the Brooklyn she described ceased to exist, the historical value of the manuscript increased. Realizing this, her friends transferred the memoir to the Robinson-Spangler Carolina Room for care and preservation.

Water from the Well

PEOPLE USUALLY GOT A BUCKET OF WATER in the morning, one at dinner time and then one at night. Water was a commodity that had to be conserved and stretched as far as possible because carrying buckets of water long distances was quite a task.
 
Women usually carried the water from the well for use on wash day, but occasionally, a boy was employed to do this job for them. I remember seeing strong women carry buckets of water balanced on their heads while also carrying buckets in each hand. They accomplished this feat without having much water slosh from any of the buckets.

Our Physician Friend

IN THE NEXT BLOCK from our home lived a physician who was an important person in our early family life. During our father’s lifetime, Dr. George Williams was our family physician, and he remained so after my father’s death.
 
I remember our beloved friend as a large, good-looking man with an olive complexion and black curly hair. He had a jolly, infectious laugh. It was a big hearty laugh that called to you and let you know that he was near.
 

The Gold Digger

THE GOLD DIGGER was an old man who moved painfully, methodically and slowly. He hobbled from place to place with the aid of an old gnarled stick that looked like a small tree branch.
 
His feeble frame was massive. His great shoulders were rather hunched and rounded, but one could readily see that he had once been a powerful man capable of doing laborious work.
 

Author's Preface

MUCH OF THE Material in this book is information that was told to me by older people. Much of it is what I have remembered from my childhood experiences.
 
I have decided to write about the section of Charlotte, North Carolina, which was called Brooklyn because I think its development and the history of its colored citizenry should be recorded.
 
This area was small in land size, but the activities of its people give an intimate glimpse of life as it was centered in this segment of America many years ago.