A History Lesson             Who Am I?

                                          Webster Mc Alpin Senior  

Fairfield, Alabama: "Steel Mill" in background,  Webster Senior, Willie Mays of Fairfield, greatest Major League baseball player of all time. (Are there mistakes in this story? Then send corrections and we will amend this story...The students)

Why yes! Willie Mays did play sports for the Fairfield Industrial High School.  Cleophas said Willie was the best baseball and basketball player that he had ever seen. That Willie Mays put our little town of Fairfield, Alabama on the map with his high-arcing jump shot and his rifle throw from deep in the centerfield corner to catch a runner trying to score from 2nd base. He played for the all- Black Birmingham Black Barons because the White Barons didn't allow Black players on their team. Cleophas told me that Willie came by during the days of their youth to win all of the marbles from the unhappy youth. Everyone, everywhere knew that Willie Mays was destined for greatness. I wish my boys could have played sports, but I would not allow them because I could not afford to pay for broken bones and sprained ankles. You see, there was no insurance policies for the Black youth during those times. Cleophas never got to play sports because of an injury suffered by an older son, Freeman, as he ran around a plowed-up football field and broke his leg. I had to pay for the whole thing, and God knows, I had very little money to eat, let alone pay for an injury. All of my sons were men, of course, and so was I!

I was only 5’ and 10" tall and weighed about 160 pounds but I was a heck of a man!

Mattie Lou (18 ? at the time) came up from Greensboro to to Fairfield to help me out with the children. She had to be no more than 16-20 years old at the time. It was customary for children to visit and help their uncles and aunts with raising their children. She ironed and kept house for Lillie Mae and me, and she did a great job of it. Lillie Mae and I worked very hard at home and at work and Mattie Lou was a Godsend in helping us out. Mattie Lou was a good-looking, dark skinned young lady all right, and I had a hard time keeping the young men away from my house (430 61st Street, Fairfield. She kept her pretty black hair neat as a pin with the straightening comb. She stayed in the mirror, primping and all that!

My father had many children; nine (?) by his first wife and eight (?) by his second. Each two-year period brings the McAlpins to a family reunion in neighboring Greensborough or other city.

I took the children down Bessemer way many times to visit Emma Lou and Viola, my sisters. We had a great time on Sunday afternoons after church, eating fried chicken and interacting with each other. Cleophas really remembers all that we did doing those family times. I know how  very important for family to stay together, and so I made sure my family was a close-knit one. I visited my father down in Greensboro on numerous occasions and took my children with me. Ernest and Ruben are my brothers, and I spent a lot of time with them, also.

How did we get the name Mc Alpin? I remember reading somewhere that a White group of people came from Ireland named the Mc Alpins. They bought many Black slaves that had recently been brought over from Africa. They established plantations and put the slaves to work planting cotton and taking care of the plantation houses. Many of the slaves took on the name of the Mc Alpins from Ireland. Since then, there have been variations to the name "McAlpin", our original name.

I don’t have to tell you what went on at the plantations. There are many Afro-Americans in the United States with the name of Mc Alpin, Mc Alpine, and Mc Calpine. Some of my brothers decided to spell their names different than mine, but we were all descendants of the slaves who worked for the families from Ireland.

Take me, for example, I am very dark-skinned and have African features. My wife, Lillie Mae, is very light with long straight hair and can easily pass as a White American. Her father also had straight and long hair and could have passed for White.

My sons mostly take on my African characteristics. Webster Jr. has dark skin, Freeman’s skin is lighter than Webster Jr.’s, Joseph has dark skin, Charles Lee has dark skin, Cleophas’ skin was very light when he was a baby. He was what most people of those times called a "high yellow". Aubry’s skin was a darker shade than Cleophas’ while Patricia was somewhere between Lillie Mae’s and mine.

Lillie Mae’s hair was very straight like her father’s. All she had to do was wet it and put some Royal Crown hair oil on it. It would become curly and straight. My hair was kinky and so was the hair of all of my family except Freeman’s. I lost my hair at an early age and so did most of my boys. I suppose the mixture of Lillie Mae’s straight hair and my kinky hair caused the boys’ hair to be soft. Cleophas had lost much of his hair by the time he was 30 years of age. Freeman was the same. My only girl, Patricia, out did all of her 6 brothers in the hair department. She never lost any of the long straight hair that was attributed to Lillie Mae.

What was it like in those early years of my youth? One thing that I can tell you is that I only went to the 5^th or 6^th grade ?. I had to spend most of my youth helping around the house and tending the fields. You see, our family owned a large piece of land down in Greensborough and most to the Mc Alpin family members built houses on the land. As a matter of fact, even today you can probably go down to Greensboro and build yourself a house on the property. You’ll have to clear it of the trees and scrubs but it’s there for the taking. Cleophas was instructed about this when he and I went down one year. I believe the year was 1980. He and his wife Gayle came to a Fairfield High School reunion in 1982 and I’m sure that Cleophas and I went back down again to see the folks, but I am not sure about Gayle. I understand there is a street called "McCalpine Street" in Greensboro. I understand some of my sisters live on that street now.

What accounts for the fact that there are so many Mc Alpins across the United States that don’t know each other? The answer is simple. There were many White Mc Alpins who came to America and obtained slaves. I don’t have to tell you about the mating that went on between Black and White doing slavery times. Anytime a White Mc Alpin wanted one of his female slaves, all he had to do was snap his finger and she would oblige him. Hence, all shades and features emerged. Even today, there is hardly any Afro-American who can call himself "pure Black". Their genes have been thoroughly mixed with the White slave owners of the pre-eighteen sixty-five days.

I moved to the city of Birmingham because I heard there were jobs there. I not only met a beautiful girl named Lillie Mae, I also landed a job with the Tennessee Coal and Iron Company. I was also very lucky to have been given a place to live. The company built houses in a small community called Fairfield and my bride and me later took up residence in one of those houses. The whole neighborhood was Black except the one or two Italians who owned grocery stores. Later on, the company allowed us to buy those houses and I hurriedly went down to the office and bought mine. It was located at 430 61^st Street.

That is where I had all of my children except the older ones. They were born when I lived up on 58^th street next to the all Black high school called Fairfield Industrial High.

My job at the "steel mill" was very difficult. The heat of the furnaces was extremely hot, but soon you got used to it. It was either work there or work nowhere. There were very few jobs in Fairfield, both down in the all White section of approximately 7000 White people and in the Black section of 6000 Blacks. Some of the Blacks worked as maids, delivery boys for the Birmingham News, dishwashers for the fancy White restaurants in Birmingham, janitors for the businesses along the main street of "downtown Fairfield", grocery baggers for A&P grocery store along that same street and pin- setters at the all-White bowling alley. Bowling for Blacks...not allowed!

I joined church at very young age and demanded that all of my children accompany Lillie Mae and me to First Baptist Church each and every Sunday. There was no excuse for not going to church on Sunday, mostly all day Sunday. Excuses from my sons were quickly dispensed with. Toothache? Too bad. Upset stomach? Too bad. Nothing to wear? Come as you are. Shoes have a big hole in the sole and you can see a large portion of sock underneath? Too bad. The sole of your shoes has come loose and you can’t walk without it flapping in the wind? Too bad, use this rubber band to hold the sole in place. I never minded the tortuous years at the Steel Mill or the one sandwich of bologna and bread that Lillie Mae placed in my little black lunch box, along with a bottle full of hot coffee. I never minded the smoke, the sweat, and the backbreaking lifting of the red hot metal as it came from the furnace. I never minded the thick black smoke that permeated my work environment. But I did mind when children failed to go to church. Lillie Mae knew how I felt, but she was a little bit softer than me. She would allow one of two of them to stay home once in a while. I had to be in church before anyone else because I was a deacon and couldn’t afford to enforce my rules all of the time.

I was small in stature but very strict in discipline. No child of mine was going to grow up to be a robber or murderer. I made sure of that by fashioning a tool called "doctor pepper". It had two strips of thick and hard leather attached to a one-foot wooden handle. Many a time it fell upon the backs of those who sought to defy my principles. No, I didn’t believe in chasing anyone around the house in an attempt to bring the strap across his or her rear end. I would sit comfortably in my easy chair and have them to get on their knees and turn around. Then I could administer the five or six strokes. Whelps rose instantly because I wanted them to know the difference between telling a lie and telling the truth, the difference between a thief and a saint, the difference between right and wrong. I believe none of them thought I did wrong when I used "doctor pepper".

I was up against it. A time of depression unfolded before me. The little money I made at the Steel Mill was not enough to support my growing family. I had to act and act fast.

I bought a cow and a few pigs. A little later, I added chickens and a chicken coop. I built a pigpen and a barn in the back yard. I also built what I called a "Junk House." The junk house would hold all of the tools I needed to repair shoes, fix cars and maintain my home. Lillie Mae and I sold milk, butter and eggs all over the Black community. My sons had to assist in this venture. I don’t think that Cleophas liked to take the cows to the fields about a half-mile away. I saw him stepping on the cow’s chain, causing the cow’s head to snap back. I always forgot to whip him for that. One thing that I didn’t forget to whip him about was when he allowed the cows to get into the wild onions. The resulting milk tasted of onions and the neighbors would not buy it. Cleophas also caught heck when he allowed the salt lick to run out. Cows needed salt and he had the dardnest time trying to make sure that there was ample salt.

Like I said, the Junk House held all of the tools I needed to survive. There was the pliers that I used to pull bad teeth, the soldering kit I needed to repair the hole in the bottom of our slop jar, the lye I needed to kill the larva in the out-house, the hand operated clippers I needed to trim hair, the tools I needed to work on my old Ford, the powder I needed to go into my miner's hat, the kerosene I needed to start fires in the cooking stove, the paint I needed to keep the house neat, the lime I needed to paint the base of the trees white for esthetic reasons, the cement I needed to construct water troughs for the rain, the can I used to make the cow manure tea for the boys' flu, and a chair for me to sit and contemplate other things that I needed to do. I was at peace in the Junk house.

Cleophas surprised me and joined church one Sunday morning. He was only 12 years old! A deacon asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up and he proudly proclaimed, "I want to be man, sir". All members of the deacon board clapped at this and said "Amen, Aaaamen! I prayed that by "man", he meant me.

Life was not hard work all of the time. It did hold a 90% percentage, though. I took Cleophas down into the woods at the end of 61^st street and showed him how to dig for worms. We were going down Tuscaloosa way to do some fishing in the Coosa River. We came upon a black snake that had a frog in its mouth. Cleophas wanted to run but I held onto his hand. I took my shovel and came down on the head of the snake. The head immediately flew off and the grateful frog hopped swiftly away. Cleophas was scared to death, but happy for the little frog.

We sat in a boat and strung what I called a "trout line" across a part of the Coosa River. The line had little bits of chicken guts attached to tiny hooks. I don’t think Cleophas liked this way of fishing. He kept swatting the hungry flies that hoped to sample a little portion of the smelly chicken guts. It was fun to me, though, because I loved fishing. I don’t care if I catch any or not. And the "not" part was the rule most of the times.

I regret that I didn’t have enough time to spend doing recreational things. My schedule was plenty full trying to provide for 6 boys and one girl.

I was an accountant. I kept up with every penny. Just ask me how much I spent on snuff last week or last year and I could tell you to the last penny. Whenever any money went out, I made an entry in my little notebook. Four oatmeal cookies from Mr. Tony’s store: 2 cents. (We always called the White people "Mister" that or "Mrs." that) Two cigars: ten cents. Show fare for Cleophas: ten cents. Incentive awards to the boys for whitewashing the tree trunks in the back yard: one nickel. Dues paid in church; car pool money given to Mr. Jones. We always bought groceries according to a schedule and Mr. Tony and I kept a running tab on the amount of groceries I had purchased each week. Mr. Tony was Italian and owned one of the two grocery stores in the Colored section. He allowed most of the steel workers and miners credit. There was never a disagreement when it came time to pay. Both of our records held the same data, down to the last tin token. Ten of the tin tokens were equal to one penny in those days. The tin tokens were used to pay the tax on items. The World War Two years were upon us and we had to do our part to fight the enemy. We gladly paid the little tin tokens as tax on the horse meat!

Cleophas and Charles Lee kept me busily looking for the tin tokens. They used most of them to do their "chemical experiment". They would take my tokens and my "carbolic" used in my miner's cap and set up their experiment. They would bend the tokens in half and place them into a coca-cola bottle, to which was added an adequate supply of carbolic. Then they would add water. A gas was generated, hydrogen, I suppose, and it was used to inflate balloons that they placed over the neck of the coca-cola bottle. The balloons would instantly inflate. They would tie off the balloon with string, attach a note and send the little messenger on its way. I can't tell you how many times I received mail that said "Hello, I found your balloon in my field or in my city." Some of the return messages came from as far away as Texas!

I stood amazed and thankful that my boys were attending that all Black High School, Fairfield Industrial High. That school had one of the most dedicated of Principals, Professor E.J. Oliver. He believed in academic achievement and surrounded himself with teachers who felt as he did. One such teacher was Mr. Dobbins of the Science Department. Mr. Dobbins set Cleophas onto making electric motors out of nails. The kit was obtained from some company or the other. The darned motor worked perfectly! Cleophas decided to make a motor of his own and used all of my Carnation milk cans to do it. He made motor after motor. He emptied Carnation can after Carnation can and used my wire cutters to fashion his armature and his field magnets. That boy was on fire with his electric motor construction!

That boy (Cleophas) also liked to do chemical experimentation. One of his experiments cost him his eyebrows and a good portion of his kinky hair. It seems that he took my carbolic and poured it down the kitchen sink. Then he went to the drain pipe downstairs and placed a match at the opening. At first, nothing happened. Then he blew into the drain pipe. A huge flame met his face and head! There was a sudden whoosh! and Cleophas took off running with his face singed and his hair and eyebrows burned off! He quickly got over that, though and was soon at his antics again. Those boys of mine kept me hopping with their "match shooters, china berry pop-guns, sling shots, bolo strings and other "weapons of war". Maybe, that's why they had few, if any, fights in the Black neighborhood; or maybe it was their strength in numbers that kept all of the other youth at bay.

I kept notes in my little books. They would tell of birthdays, church meetings and visits to relatives down in Bessemer and other places. I also visited the sick every weekend and would keep notes about their condition.

Like I said before, I only went to the 5th^h or 6^th grade but I had much more sense than the average man. I met with members of the Black community to help eliminate the voting Poll Tax that the White segregationists had placed on the Black man. I attended meetings in the community and discussed issues affecting the Black citizens of Fairfield. We focused on getting out the Negro vote. (Being called "Black" or "Nigger" were both derogatory names in my day)

I suppose my involvement in civic affairs made me acutely aware of the need for all Negro children to get an education. That is why all of my children graduated from high school. All that is, except Joseph. He insisted on going into the Army after the eleventh grade and I finally gave in to him. All the rest graduated.

There was never enough money. I was caught between the need to feed my family and send some of them to college. I had instructed Freeman on electrical house wiring and he seemed college material. (I almost forgot how I became an electrician. I will take that up at a later time) I finally decided that the right thing to do was to send Freeman to Tuskegee Institute. And so I did.

Life was extremely difficult while Freeman was off to college. All of the family had to suffer because there was never enough money. I was determined that Freeman was going to stay in college, no matter what the sacrifice. Freeman was upset that we could not send him enough money for food, but we did our best. He finally left school after two years. I believe he missed his sweetheart, Hattie, too much. He came home to her and subsequently went into the Army. There was no draft lottery or volunteer army to save him or any other Negro boy from going into the Army to fight; Fight for a country that still kept them down and treated them like the slaves of their ancestors.

It was a cruel thing that the Fairfield Baptist Church did. They expelled Lillie Mae because she had an accident in the car. They said she had been drinking "home brew" when the accident happened. That was one of the saddest days of my life when they disallowed her back in church. I had to leave because of the embarrassment I suffered. I went down to Inglewood and joined another church. So did Lillie Mae, but she constantly complained about being put out of First Baptist. She really loved that church. Somewhere down the line, she had learned to sew and was a master seamstress. A lot of the church people came to her to have gowns and dresses made. She loved sewing so much. I would sometimes see Cleophas threading her needles and watching as she made buttonholes and gussets.

I always forgave anyone who had done my family wrong or me. I forgave the people who gave Lillie Mae the "home brew" and I forgave the Pastor and members of First Baptist Church. I don’t think everybody is that forgiving, especially Cleophas. He was a Sunday school teacher at 16 and went into a state of depression when his mother got put out. I think the scar will remain for a great part of his life.

I came to California to visit my sons. I stayed at Cleophas’ and his lovely wife, Gayle’s home in Carson. Cleophas took me to many places. Lion Country Safari was one of my favorites. Listen to the tape that Cleophas probably still has if you want to hear my story on how much I loved California.

I developed a lung disease as so many other Negro men and had to spend a long time in a hospital. It had to be the deadly fumes given off at the steel mill. I had to retire from the mill because of my health but continued doing electrical work for the citizens of Fairfield. I had high blood pressure by now and kept myself a bottle of garlic water in the refrigerator at all times. It controlled my blood pressure.

I remained committed to Christ through it all and he brought me safely through. My religious beliefs sustained me through all of the turmoil of my life and kept me focused on the final prize. A church in Fairfield made sure of my legacy by naming the Sunday school after me…. That is….Webster McAlpin Sunday School. It is located on 52^nd street in the Black section of Fairfield, Alabama.

I finally left this life to receive the final prize…………

Written by Cleophas McAlpin in honor of his loving father on this February day when we are celebrating Black History Month.

February 16, 1999