Aunt Edie Dennis Has Reached Good Old Age —Special—(From Atlanta Constitution, November 10, 1900.)

Quite a remarkable case of longevity is had in the person of Edie Dennis, a colored woman of Columbus, who has reached the unusual age of 109 years of age and is still in a state of fair health.

Aunt Edie lives with two of her daughters at No. 1612 Third Avenue, in this city. She has lived in three centuries, is a great-great grandmother and has children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren, aggregating in all over a hundred persons. She lives with one of her "young" daughters, sixty-six.

Edie Dennis is no doubt one of the oldest persons living in the United States. Cases are occasionally reported where 105 years is reached, but 109 years is an age very seldom attained. A wonderful feature of this case is that this old woman is the younger sister of another person now living. Aunt Edie has a brother living at Americus, Georgia, who is 111 years old.

Notwithstanding her great age, Aunt Edie is in fairly good health. She is naturally feeble and her movements are limited. Even in her little home, from which she never stirs. Although she is feeble, her faculties seem clear and undimmed and she talked interestingly and intelligently to a Constitution reporter who called upon her recently.

Aunt Edie was born in 1791, just eight years before the death of George Washington occurred. She was a mother when the war of 1812 took place. The establishment of Columbus as a city was an event of her mature womanhood. The Indian War of the thirties she recalls very distinctly. She was getting old when the Mexican War took place. She was an old woman when the great conflict between the states raged. She was seventy-five years of age when she became free.

It is quite needless to say that Aunt Edie was a slave all her life up to the year 1866. She was born in Hancock County, Georgia, between Milledgeville and Sparta. She was the property of Thomas Schlatter. She came to Columbus just after the town had been laid off, when she was a comparatively young woman. She became the property of the family of Judge Hines Holt, the distinguished Columbus lawyer. She says that when she first came here there was only a small collection of houses. Where her present home was located was then nothing but swamp land. The present location of the court house was covered with a dense woods. No event in those early years impressed itself more vividly upon Aunt Edie's mind than the Indian War, in the thirties. She was at the home of one of the Indians when she first heard of the uprising against the whites, and she frankly says that she was frightened almost to death when she listened to the cold-blooded plots to exterminate the white people. Not much attention was paid to her on account of her being a Negro. Those were very thrilling times and Aunt Edie confesses that she was exceedingly glad when the troubles with the red men were over. Another happening of the thirties which Aunt Edie recalls quite distinctly is the falling of the stars. She says quaintly that there was more religion that year in Georgia than there ever was before or has been since. The wonderful manner in which the stars shot across the heavens by the thousands, when every sign seemed to point to the destruction of the earth, left a lasting impression upon her brain.

Aunt Edie says that she was kindly treated by her masters. She says that they took interest in the spiritual welfare of their slaves and that they were called in for prayer meeting regularly. Aunt Edie was such an old woman when she was freed that the new condition meant very little change in life for her, as she had about stopped work, with the exception of light tasks about the house.

There seems to be no doubt that Aunt Edie is 109 years old. She talks intelligently about things that occurred 100 years ago. All her children, grandchildren, etc., asserts that her age is exactly as stated. Indeed, they have been the custodians of her age, so to speak, for nearly half a century. It was a matter of great interest to her family when she passed the 100 mark.

Aunt Edie is religious and she delights in discussing scriptural matters. She has practical notions, however, and while she is morally sure she will go to a better world when she dies, she remarks, "That we know something about this world, but nothing about the next."

Perhaps this is one reason why Aunt Edie has stayed here 109 years.

NOTE: Mary Gladdy (806½ - Sixth Avenue, Columbus, Georgia). A grand-daughter of Edie Dennis, states that her grandmother died in 1901, aged 110.

The Story of Chuck, as Told by Mary Gladdy.

Chuck was a very intelligent and industrious slave, but so religious that he annoyed his master by doing so much praying, chanting, and singing.

So, while in a spiteful mood one day, this master sold the Negro to an infidel. And this infidel, having no respect for religion whatsoever, beat Chuck unmercifully in an effort to stop him from indulging in his devotions. But, the more and the harder the infidel owner whipped Chuck, the more devout and demonstrative the slave became.

Finally, one day, the infidel was stricken ill unto death; the wicked man felt that his end was near and he was afraid to die. Moreover, his conscience rebuked him for his cruel treatment of this slave. The family doctor had given the infidel up: the man apparently had but a few hours to live. Then, about 8 o'clock at night, the dying man asked his wife to go down in the slave quarter and ask Chuck if he would come to his bedside and pray for him.

The white lady went, as requested, and found Chuck on his knees, engaged in prayer.

"Chuck", she called, "your master is dying and has sent me to beg you to come and pray for him."

"Why, Maddom", replied Chuck, "I has been praying fer Marster tonight—already, and I'll gladly go with you."

Chuck then went to his Master's bed side and prayed for him all night, and the Lord heard Chuck's prayers, and the white man recovered, was converted, joined the church, and became an evangelist. He also freed Chuck and made an evangelist of him. Then the two got in a buggy and, for years, traveled together all over the country, preaching the gospel and saving souls.

NOTE: Mary Gladdy believes this to be a true story, though she knew neither the principals involved, nor where nor when they lived and labored. She says that the story has been "handed down", and she once saw it printed in, and thus confirmed by, a Negro publication—long after she had originally heard it.

Keep the Fire Burning While Your Soul's Fired Up.

Fire, fire, O, keep the fire burning while your soul's fired up.
O, keep the fire burning while your soul's fired up;
Never mind what satan says while your soul's fired up.
You ain't going to learn how to watch and pray,
Less you keep the fire burning while your soul's fired up.

Old Satan is a liar and a cunjorer, too;
If you don't mind, he'll cunjor you;
Keep the fire burning while your soul's fired up.
Never mind what satan says while, your soul's fired up.

Sung for interviewer by:
Mary Gladdy, Ex-slave,
806½ - Sixth Avenue,
Columbus, Georgia.
December 17, 1936.

The Gospel Train

Never seen the like since I've been born,
The people keep a-coming, and the train's done gone;
Too late, too late, the train's done gone,
Too late, sinner, too late, the train's done gone;
Never seen the like since I've been born,
The people keep a-coming, and the train's done gone;
Too late, too late, the train's done gone.

Went down into the valley to watch and pray,
My soul got happy and I stayed all day;
Too late, too late, the train's done gone;
Too late, sinner, too late, the train's done gone;
Never seen the like since I've been born,
The people keep a-coming and the train's done gone.
Too late, too late, the train's done gone.

Sung for interviewer by:
Mary Gladdy, ex-slave,
806½ - 6th Avenue,
Columbus, Georgia,
December 17, 1936

Old Slave Canticle.

My sister, I feels 'im, my sister I feels 'im;
All night long I've been feelin 'im;
Jest befoe day, I feels 'im, jest befoe day I feels 'im;
The sperit, I feels 'im, the sperit I feels 'im!

My brother, I feels 'im, my brother, I feels 'im;
All night long I've been feelin 'im,
Jest befoe day, I feels 'im, jest befoe day, I feel 'im;
The sperit, I feels 'im!

According to Mary Gladdy, ex-slave, 806½ - 6th Avenue, Columbus, Georgia, it was customary among slaves during the Civil War period to secretly gather in their cabins two or three nights each week and hold prayer and experience meetings. A large, iron pot was always placed against the cabin door—sideways, to keep the sound of their voices from "escaping" or being heard from the outside. Then, the slaves would sing, pray, and relate experiences all night long. Their great, soul-hungering desire was freedom—not that they loved the Yankees or hated their masters, but merely longed to be free and hated the institution of slavery.

Practically always, every Negro attendant of these meetings felt the spirit of the Lord "touch him (or her) just before day". Then, all would arise, shake hands around, and begin to chant the canticle above quoted. This was also a signal for adjournment, and, after chanting 15 or 20 minutes, all would shake hands again and go home—confident in their hearts that freedom was in the offing for them.