For information on terms of use of this interview, please see the SPOHP Creative Commons license at http://ufdc.ufl.edu/AfricanAmericanOralHistory. Joel Buchanan Archive of African American History: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/ohfb AAHP 358A Ann Pinkston African American History Project (AAHP) Interviewed by Justin Dunnavant and Ryan Morini on October 9, 2014 2 hours, 56 minutes | 82 pages Abstract: Ms. Ann Pinkston was born in 1944 in Silver Springs, Florida. She recounts her cousin and brother Frank travelling to Boston to meet Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Her home often had short-term visitors, including Dana Swan. Her father was a pastor for close to seventy years and owned a drug store in west Gainesville. One night, the fear of racial violence was so great, she did not stay home. The NAACP organized Mass Meetings of prominent Black leaders partly led by her brother. Her whole family was very influential, Ms. Pinkston was an organizer and picketed. Her husband was one of the few Black physicians in Ocala, and she explains the rudeness of people in the health care industry. They discuss different Black newspapers that were available in Ocala. Keywords: Ocala; Silver Springs; Paradise Park; Civil Rights Movement; Chitlin’ Circuit; James Brown; Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.; Medgar Evers; Reverend Abernathy; Hampton Institute; Forest High; University of Florida; Virginia Union; Voting; Schools; White Citizens’ Council; Black Professionals; Marion County. Samuel Proctor Oral History Program College of Liberal Arts and Sciences Program Director: Dr. Paul Ortiz 241 Pugh Hall PO Box 115215 Gainesville, FL 32611 (352) 392-7168 https://oral.history.ufl.edu
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Transcript
For information on terms of use of this interview, please see the SPOHP Creative Commons license at http://ufdc.ufl.edu/AfricanAmericanOralHistory.
Joel Buchanan Archive of African American History: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/ohfb
AAHP 358A Ann Pinkston
African American History Project (AAHP) Interviewed by Justin Dunnavant and Ryan Morini on October 9, 2014
2 hours, 56 minutes | 82 pages Abstract: Ms. Ann Pinkston was born in 1944 in Silver Springs, Florida. She recounts her cousin and brother Frank travelling to Boston to meet Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Her home often had short-term visitors, including Dana Swan. Her father was a pastor for close to seventy years and owned a drug store in west Gainesville. One night, the fear of racial violence was so great, she did not stay home. The NAACP organized Mass Meetings of prominent Black leaders partly led by her brother. Her whole family was very influential, Ms. Pinkston was an organizer and picketed. Her husband was one of the few Black physicians in Ocala, and she explains the rudeness of people in the health care industry. They discuss different Black newspapers that were available in Ocala. Keywords: Ocala; Silver Springs; Paradise Park; Civil Rights Movement; Chitlin’ Circuit; James Brown; Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.; Medgar Evers; Reverend Abernathy; Hampton Institute; Forest High; University of Florida; Virginia Union; Voting; Schools; White Citizens’ Council; Black Professionals; Marion County.
Samuel Proctor Oral History Program College of Liberal Arts and Sciences Program Director: Dr. Paul Ortiz
241 Pugh Hall PO Box 115215 Gainesville, FL 32611 (352) 392-7168 https://oral.history.ufl.edu
AAHP 358A Interviewee: Ann Pinkston Interviewer: Justin Dunnavant and Ryan Morini Date: October 9, 2014 M: So, this is Ryan Morini, with Justin—
D: Justin Dunnavant.
P: Ann Pinkston.
[Agnes _______ in background declines to add her name, but speaks further on in the
interview]
M: Just the three of us, then. [Laughter] It’s October 9, 2014. We’re in the home of
Ann Pinkston here in Ocala, Florida. So, let’s see—I mean, were you okay with
a—did you want to keep talking informally, or did you want to do an actual
interview?
P: However you want to do.
M: Either way.
D: Yeah, it’s about— [Laughter]
P: Yeah, I do a little column for our church’s monthly newsletter, and sometimes you
find, depending on who it is, and how things go, you do have to mix it up
sometimes. And sometimes, you just let them go, and you can get a whole lot
that way. And then sometimes, some people, you have to ask them everything.
D: Yeah. [Laughter]
P: However, whatever works best for you, I’m okay with it.
M: Okay, okay. Well, we’ll keep a mix of things going, I guess. But do you mind
stating when you were born, for the record?
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 2
P: No, I don’t mind, at all. I was born July 13, 1944, in Silver Springs, Florida. The
first girl out of, I was number, what? Six, I guess. Seven. Six boys and seven—
hey, I’m getting mixed up here! Six boys and one girl. And I’m next to the last.
M: Were you born in a hospital there, or were you born at home?
P: Oh, I was born at home. We all were born at home, in a house that my parents
built. Their original house was my grandparents’ home until they built their own
house and moved into it. They moved into it, and—my parents were married in
1930, and then 1938, they moved into the house that they built, themselves, by
hand—with the help of neighbors, of course.
D: Were they originally from Silver Springs?
P: My dad’s originally from East Palatka, Florida, my mother’s originally from Silver
Springs. And they met here in Ocala, through some social function. And my dad
and his brother, who was a pharmacist, came to Ocala and opened up a drug
store on Southwest Broadway, and they called it Pinkston’s Drugs. And so,
through people in the community and so forth, they finally, my mom and dad met.
And of course, they were married for almost 68 years before my mother passed
away.
M: Could we get their names?
P: My dad was Oliver Van Pinkston, and my mother was Amelia Mae Jones
Pinkston.
M: Okay. And you said “Van,” is that V-A-N?
P: V-A-N, mmhm. Not like “van Pinkston,” as some countries, cultures and so forth,
but… that was just his middle name. Van. He was a minister. But before he
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 3
became a minister, he did carpentry work. Built kegs and different woodworking
projects up and down the Seaboard coast, between Florida and Maryland.
D: So that Jesus-John the Baptist connection has a deeper meaning. [Laughter]
P: Yes, yes. And so, the brother that he opened the drugstore with—my dad came
from a family of ten, six boys and four girls. And that particular brother went to
Howard, to pharmacy school. So he got his degree there. And so when he came
back, then—as with a lot of big families, the older ones start working first, and
then they help to send the younger ones off to college, and that kind of thing. And
so that was what happened in their case, the older ones worked—he and a
couple brothers—and sent that brother to school to become the pharmacist. And
so when he came out, he asked my dad to come over to Ocala with him to open
a drugstore. They did that for several years. But in the meantime, my dad was a
boat guy also, at Silver Springs. He was one of the original boat guys down
there. He and his father-in-law. And he did that for a very long time. And he just
did a lot of—a lot of jobs, because, as they were married in 1930, kids started
coming along. And so, my mother taught originally. But, after babies come along,
it was kind of hard, at that time, to try to work outside the home and take care of
a lot of little kids. So she became a stay-at-home mom, and he continued to grow
in his different ways. And one of them was being active in the church. Became a
deacon, and eventually felt the call to be a minister. And between the two of
them, they felt like he needed to have an education as well. So, he didn’t go off to
school, as such. When he was in high school, he did go to Florida Memorial,
because they had a boarding section for high school-aged people, and people
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 4
going to go on into college. He did start college, but he did not ever actually
graduate from Florida Memorial. But then, in the meantime, as he grew, he took
courses from Crozier Theological Seminary—that’s in Pennsylvania—and from,
there was another school in New York that he took courses through, and Virginia
Union University. He would actually go there and study. And there was a place
called Lakeland Seminary here in Florida that was near where the Reverend Billy
Graham went to. There was a connection between those schools, where he
went. So, he got his religious training, formal training. So anyway, they just raised
a whole bunch of children, tried to educate them to the best that they could, you
know, with [inaudible 7:07] and so forth. Some of us did, and some of us didn’t
finish, and so. But everybody had the opportunity to do so, with them working
hard. And my brother Frank went off to college at Virginia Union. I have a brother
Fred who was just older than he, who had gone to Virginia Union. So it’s kind of
like, maybe, one follows the other, kind of thing. And then, so that way they share
things, and it’s not as costly. But, and that was where Frank got his connection
with religion, becoming a minister, and becoming involved in Civil Rights.
Because I had a cousin there who was a minister also, the Reverend Harold
Pinkston, who was attending seminary at Union. He had graduated, gotten his
bachelor’s at Union, and then was back working on his theology degree. And he
just went to seminars all around, and found one up in Boston that Dr. King was
at, and he had heard some things about him, and my brothers and he went up to
this seminar up there, and my mother was one of those characters who believed
in keeping up with what was going on with her kids, and she would call them
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 5
periodically. And you know, there was one phone in the dormitory kind of thing,
but everybody knew everybody. And she called this particular weekend to speak
to them. They weren’t there. And if they left to go anywhere, they were supposed
to call home. But they didn’t. And then she found out some time later where they
had been. And it was both the being mad at them, but also being happy about
what they were doing. So, that was Frank’s initial meeting with Dr. King, was at a
seminar up in the Boston area, on Civil Rights and human rights. But anyway…
D: Did your parents talk about Civil Rights very much in the household when you
were growing up?
P: Not as such, no. Everybody was everybody. We referred to Silver Springs at the
time as being “out in the country.” And, actually, there were more Black people
there than there were Caucasian people out there. Mainly because Silver Springs
was a little tourist town, and so Black people naturally going be the ones who do
the janitorial, and the errands, and cleanup, whether it’s just from yardwork to
inside the building, and all those kinds of things. Mainly, Black people handled
those kinds of jobs. The Caucasian people generally did the office-type work.
And so, that was generally the ladies who did secretarial-type things and so forth.
So you didn’t find Black women back in that day doing that kind of thing. Not in a
corporation like that. And then, or outside of education, outside of schools. But at
any rate, it was a little tourist town, so it was mostly Black people who actually
lived there. But everybody knew everybody. You know, White people knew the
Black people, Black people knew the White people. So, but anybody was always
welcome at their door. And quite frequently, that did happen. It wasn’t just Black
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 6
people coming—people would, they call them ‘tramps’ and ‘travelers’ and all
kinds of names. People passing through, people needing help of some sort or the
other. And somehow, my mom and dad got known as people who helped people.
And so, even with all of us, they still had room at the table. That kind of thing. Or
a corner for somebody to sleep in, whatever kind of thing. And then, being a
tourist town, there was a motel there that housed stars who came to visit Silver
Springs. Like, there was a lady called Arlene Francis, who was on T.V. many
years ago. I think it would cross my mind, I think she had a show of her own. And
then, there were some movies being made there. What was her name, Russell,
who was one of the underwater mermaid stars and so forth. And anyway, other
people who were associated with Tarzan, and so forth. But anyway, the Black
people who came along with those people needed a place to stay because they
couldn’t stay at the motels. And instead of somebody going into Ocala every day
and coming back out to Silver Springs, they would look for somebody out at
Silver Springs for them to stay with. And guess who? So, there was always a
space for them. They would give up their bedroom so that whoever it was that
was with the group that was visiting would have their bedroom to stay in during
the time that they were there. So, it got to be that kind of thing. And there were
two ladies who they eventually took in on a permanent basis. They were in high
school. People used to come here in the winters, for the winter, a lot.
Northerners, and even from Mississippi in the case of this family—was a doctor
and his family who had a lady who was their cook, and nursemaid for their
children, and that kind of thing—came to Silver Springs for a winter. And they
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 7
liked it here. But, the thing of it was, was that their—housekeeper I’ll call her,
because she had lots of titles—but their housekeeper had two sisters, two young
sisters, who—[Phone rings; brief aside about answering it.]—that she took care
of, because their parents had died when they were little toddlers. And so, they
needed a place to stay, and of course they stayed with her parents. But then
when the people decided that they wanted to stay in Florida, then they needed a
place, and the girls could not come to stay with them where they were. So, they
wound up staying with my parents, and graduating from high school from Howard
High School—Howard Academy, it was called during that time. So, that was
Mattie Howell, and Clara. Clara wound up going into the military, and she met a
man from Haiti who was a son of a higher-up in Haiti, who worked, like, during
the Marcus Garvey times and so forth. So she married well-to-do. But then, when
all of the rumblings came about how money was being spent, because this
particular man that she married, his father sent him to school, went to UCLA—
and actually that’s where Clara met him—sent him to be a financier, and to be an
accountant, that kind of thing and so forth. He wanted to try to do the right thing,
by money that they were getting from other places for Haiti and that kind of thing.
Well, that didn’t go so very well. Things started happening, physical things
started happening to that family. And so, Garvey—was his name—finally decided
it wasn’t safe for his family anymore. So they left Haiti and then he went to work
for the UN for many years, until he retired, actually. But, that was kind of the thing
that happened with my family, was that my mom and dad, people came, people’d
stay—Dana, who was Frank’s, one of his right-hand men, Dana Swan from
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 8
University of Florida was one of the students who came. Dana’s family wasn’t so
keen about him being involved in the Civil Rights Movement. And a lot of kids,
and even some of us from here who were involved, their families just said, “No,
you can’t. If you do, then you can’t live here anymore.” That kind of thing. And so,
as with Dana, Dana wound up living with us for, beyond the Civil Rights years,
actually, as such. Just because, you know, we had become family. Really family
by that time. And so, he was just part of us. But there was always people at our
door. So it kind of just went on down the line with us, as well as children,
becoming adults and having our homes, we always had an open door. It didn’t
matter what color you were, what walk of life you came from. You know, my dad
used to say, “You can learn things from a drunk.” So, and you certainly can learn
things from a fool. And one of his favorite sayings was, you just consider the
source. When somebody says something that’s kind of off the wall or whatever,
yeah, just listen to the source, and you done with it. So, but that was the way that
they were. And with Frank, the houses were next door to each other, right there
at Silver Springs. So people were always at his door, you know, once he moved
back here. It was that kind of thing. And so—and I know I’m kind of jumping—
M: Oh, no, it’s fine.
P: But, when he came back and started working here, he was teaching at Howard
High School. And he became assistant pastor at the church that my dad
pastored. And the kids knew that he had participated in the Civil Rights
Movement in Virginia. And, of course, I being one of them when he came back—I
was a senior in high school—and Forest High was being built, had been being
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 9
built on for a while. But I thought, you know, I sure would love to graduate from
that high school. I wouldn’t have to ride that old bus to school, and blah blah
blah, that kind of thing. [Laughter] Because, well, I’d get on the bus about ten ‘til
seven, to get to school at eight thirty. Six miles away. You know. But our bus
went through Silver Springs, through a community called Mount Caanan, through
another little section out in Maricamp, and all around Ocala. Go out West Ocala
for a distance, and then back to Howard, by the time… So you know, you spent a
good bit of your time on the school bus. So I thought, that would be great. They
got all that new stuff, and that kind of mentality, you know. So when he came, I
just knew I could talk him into, “Hey, can you take me over there to school?” And
that kind of thing. And so, he said, “Well, it’s not quite that time yet.” And so I
started riding to school with him in the mornings, and that was mostly a daily
conversation. You know, “When am I going to be able to go to school over
there?” kind of thing. And then the other kids started doing the same thing to him.
And so, eventually, things evolved as they did. But back up with my mom and
dad, they just tried to make sure that we all got an education. And there were lots
of other people who went to school courtesy of them as well. And they just were
always pillars in the community. And, you know, the Civil Rights thing was not an
issue as such, because they believed in helping anybody who needed help. But
when it came down to rights and so forth, they believed in trying to get everybody
to register and vote. And, to do their civic part. My dad used to say, “In order to
be a good Christian, you’ve got to be a good citizen.” So… Which, if you are a
Christian or a religious person, well, you know, if you say you want to get to
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 10
Heaven then you got to live right. And you live right by the laws. And so, that’s
being a good citizen, obeying the laws. And being a good Christian, you still have
to obey the laws. So… But that was the way they lived, and taught us. And so
that’s where we got it from, and just kind of carry on down the line. So, our
brothers were either teachers or professional people, most of them. And so…
M: If you don’t mind my asking, so the… It sounds like Silver Springs, internally, with
the community, kind of had its own—its own thing going, I guess. But, what
about—did you go downtown to Ocala much? Because he had the drug store
down there, too, right?
P: Well, the drug store wasn’t in downtown, it was what we call down Broadway
towards the west side—
M: Oh okay, okay.
P: When you—I guess the dividing line, what street is that now?
X: Pine Avenue.
P: No, before Pine there’s a couple streets up where Black business started and
went west.
M: Magnolia?
P: Not Magnolia, the street before Magnolia—going west, the very next street from
Magnolia.
M: Okay.
X: What is called First Avenue now.
P: Called First Avenue—I think it might’ve been called Orange Avenue, at that time.
I believe that is what it was. Well, right about there was the dividing line where
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 11
Black businesses started. From dry cleaners, to fish markets, to banks, to dry
goods stores, restaurants.
X: Yeah, because all of that was still here in [19]63.
P: Bars, and you name it. Whatever you needed from downtown—or uptown,
whichever way you want to look at it—you could get it in that area.
X: That area was Broadway, it was Broadway then.
P: Yes. And so that whole area… Funeral homes. I think I said banks, but just in
case I didn’t say banks: Black banks. Even though for a little bit going towards
Magnolia, there were a couple of sole Black businesses, but the Black banks was
a little farther up, going toward the square. But there were many—and then, if
you were going south, then people, see, started homes. Black homes were in
that area too, as far up as that area. But, there was pretty much a distinct dividing
line from East Ocala to West Ocala. And especially as far as businesses and so
forth, and what-have-you.
M: Okay. So did you—
P: So we were technically in the west side. [Laughter]
M: Did you ever go into the downtown-downtown Ocala, or was that just kind of a…?
P: Oh yes! Oh yes, we did. Periodically, we did. There might have been something
that you wanted that wasn’t available at the very time that you wanted it or
needed it. And then, the bigger banks were all on that side, and that kind of thing.
And then the courthouse was on the big square downtown there, and so…You
went down. And some of the other drugstores, the bigger drugstores and so
forth. And I have to tell you a little personal story. I always said I was gonna be a
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 12
pharmacist, also. Different ones of us, the kids, worked at the drugstore during
the summer months and so forth. And in our family, our uncle had the name of
being a little bit miserly, you know, to put it nicely. But so I was one of the few of
my siblings that got paid—somewhat. [Laughter] But our, my brother Frank didn’t
get what he thought he should get. He loved comics—he loved comics—and he
loved ice cream. So he said, he compensated himself and was paid by, through
the comics and the ice cream. [Laughter] And I just sort of took after him, doing
the same thing that he did, compensated me a little bit more monetarily than he
did anybody else. But we all had our turns working there, and we met a lot of
people that way, too. But that was part of being there. And another thing that I
learned saying that I wanted to be a pharmacist was that I learned to fill
prescriptions. I guess the period of—what would you call the period where you
can’t arrest somebody about something? When you can’t arrest somebody?
M: Oh, statute of limitations?
P: Statute of, yeah. Statute of limitations had passed by now, so I’ll go over what it
says. I did fill prescriptions when my uncle felt like he needed a little break. He
had taught me how to fill them, and how to read prescriptions. And so, I filled
them. If there was something that I couldn’t decipher, and the person needed it
right away, they couldn’t wait, then I would just give it back to them and tell them
we were out of that particular thing right now, and send them to one of the drug
stores farther up the street. But if it was something that I could handle, I did it.
And nobody ever got sicker, that we knew of. But I really learned a lot that way,
about a lot of things; people, and life, and the whole bit. And I wound up being a
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 13
registered nurse with an oncology specialty. A little ways from pharmacology, but
I still had to have a lot of pharmacology in my nursing, though. Especially with
what I was doing. So I did get off to a good start [Laughter]
D: So what sort of things did you all sell in the drugstore? You mentioned comics
and ice cream?
P: Comics, ice cream… It had a little we had a little soda fountain area so we did as
far as that part went, we did anything that you would get in a regular soda shop
downtown, from the milkshakes to sundaes, to hamburgers, hotdogs, fries, you
name it, we had it. Then other than that, we had all the medical supplies you’d
need, from band aids all the way up to regular prescription medicines, everything
that fell that category; then other incidentals, the hygiene products ladies would
need, all the grooming stuff that men and women needed and so forth.
M: So were you spending a lot of time in town then? Or—
P: It did get to be a point where we did. Because by the time I got to high school,
and my younger brother [sister?] is just about a four years’ difference in our ages;
she came in into work in the drug store as well a lot during like running the soda
fountain area and things like that, and keeping inventory and so forth so she did
a lot of background work, and things like that. About the only time we didn’t was
on Sundays because Sunday was always completely filled with church activities.
So we didn’t. So it got to a place where it was closed on Sundays until about 7
o’clock, 8 o’clock in the evening, and my uncle decided he couldn’t let a day go
by without it being open at all. So it had to be open at least for a couple of hours
on Sunday nights, and people would come in and get ice cream and things like
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 14
that. Milkshakes and so forth. But yeah, we did spend quite a bit of time there.
Plus, my younger brother and I during that time with my mom being there,
because we just were not home out in the country by ourselves, being young kids
still. She always took us with her wherever she went.
D: What do you remember most about your father’s church? Going to church with
your father, preaching—
P: About going to church with him? Well, another little background about him was
that he was a minister probably close to 70 years, but during that time, he
pastored New Covenant for about 3 months or so shy of being 50 years. And
then he pastored in 3 other churches, and that were the only churches he ever
pastored. There was a little church in the area called Canaan off about 4 to 5
miles just east of Silver Springs. It was in what we called a little sawmill
community. Where pine trees grow, and they’d cut down for lumber, and they
took the sap from trees to make turpentine and things like that, rural community
like that. So he was a pastor for that little community. I can remember going to
that little church. In my mind’s eye even now, it wasn’t as big as this. And the
pews were just little benches, almost like a picnic bench, a picnic table bench,
just that little piece. That’s what the pews were basically like. And it was only
about, maybe, ten or twelve families, something like that. But then, everybody
didn’t go to church, and so it still wasn’t a lot of people at church even for that
small amount of people in the community. Usually those weekends were spent
with the men drinking and that kind of thing when they get their little pay and so
forth, so they had not come around enough on Sundays to participate in Sunday
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 15
services. And so, basically it was just a lot of kids, and some of the wives would
be there and that kind of thing. But still, there always was a little church and a
little community store. I can remember going there and just—so I’m sitting there,
just looking around, and that the church was sitting right next to the Ocklawaha
River, and seeing people being baptized in the river. Now those are the things I
can remember about. And having a picnic there. Then there was a church called
Ramah Baptist Church in Belleview. Then he started pastoring in Silver Springs
first, I believe that was, that was Saint Mary’s and Silver Springs. And he
pastored there for quite a few years. And there, that was where I became a
member of the church, was baptized up on the Silver River, down Silver Springs
but over in a park called Paradise Park where the Black people went to. That was
where we had our baptisms. And I of course sang in the little junior choir.
Sometimes I was one of the song leaders. But then, all the kids participated in all
the areas of the church, so sometimes you were usher, sometimes you’d help
take up the collection, different things like that. And going to Sunday school and
BTU, all training classes, and learning the Bible, that kind of thing. And then, at
Ramah down in Belleview, I actually was born during the time he pastored the
church there. Because until just a few years ago, and most of those people have
died now, they would call me the Belleview baby because of being born during
the time he pastored there. They had all the boys and the finally a girl came
along while they were pastoring there. So I was called the Belleview baby. Even
at the hospital sometimes, people would come up and visit patients—I was the
head nurse—and if I were at the desk when some of those people came along,
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 16
and if there were other nurses in there, they would crack up because people
would always be, “Oh, there’s our Belleview baby!” I never outgrew that title. I
don’t know if they ever really knew my real first time, because they’d always call
me “Belleview baby.” The only thing I can remember about that, because he was
there for quite a while, so I was old enough to know about Santa Claus. And
there was always—all Black churches had this Christmas program, where you’d
have everybody say their little Christmas speeches, and you would get presented
little Christmas tokens. Santa Claus would come and distribute the Christmas
gifts. I can remember that there was a man named Frank Washington who was
the principal of the Fort King middle school for many years, and Frank is still
living, by the way, too. Frank was such a mischievous kid. When Santa Claus
came to give out the gifts, he called Frank out in particular because he had been
so mischievous! He had a special gift for him that was long, and it’s the thing that
this guy, the football player’s getting in trouble with now—the switch. So Santa
Claus had a long switch for him, and some other little things that kids did not
want to associate with in getting for Christmas. And so, Santa chased Frank and
his dad around, and around, and around that church, it seemed, for half the night,
with his dad trying to keep him from Santa because he had been such a bad boy.
That’s something that I remember from there. At New Covenant—which we
called Covenant at the time, we became New Covenant after some new church
was erected and so forth just here a few years ago. But at Covenant, I remember
making some lifelong friends, and from a young kid, 6 or 7 years old, and kids
who I went to school with the rest of my days, and from participating in activities
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 17
at church, the choir mostly. I didn’t participate much at that point then, but I did
with choir and different things, and we had, I was—our [inaudible 35:15]
represented our church a couple occasions at a convention—in our Sunday
school convention. Things like that, just meeting lots of people as a kid growing
up, those kinds of things, all the learning. All the things that the older women
talked to girls, and that kind of thing, so forth. But, a lot of, because I can
remember a lot of kids coming to church there because, “Oh, I’m going to church
with Anne!” You know, that kind of thing, you have these friends that you develop
in school, so of course you want to be together all the time. So they started
coming to our church as well.
D: You mentioned earlier about Paradise Park. I was wondering if you could expand
on that a little bit. We’ve heard some stories about Paradise Park.
P: About Paradise Park? Well, Paradise Park was that part of Silver Springs that
Black people went to for swimming and entertainment, versus going to the main
attraction of Silver Springs. We did not go to the main part of Silver Springs even
though our people—like I said, my dad worked there, and old Black folks worked
there, and that kind of thing. But you didn’t go there, because of segregation. So
you didn’t go there. Even to ride the glass bottom boats. They actually had two or
three boats that they would have, and maybe another one or so during holiday
times, that they would send over to Paradise Park, because the holiday times
would be many people from all over the southeast coming to Paradise Park.
Because it was one of the few Black parks in the southeast. And so they would
have glass bottom boats come there, pick up people from Paradise Park, take
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them all the way back up Silver Springs, see all the fish shows and so forth, and
the Silver River there, and take us back down to Paradise Park. And during those
times, there was a boat called the Jungle Cruise Boat that went—now, Paradise
Park, I would think, was about maybe two miles or so from the main part of Silver
Springs, for, river-wise. But Jungle Cruise Boat went from the main part of Silver
Springs attraction, passed Paradise Park, and I’m not sure to this day how much
farther down it went, because we could not ride the Jungle Cruise at all. So,
holiday time, any other time, we didn’t ride it. We only were allowed to have the
glass bottom boat. But supposedly, what you saw on the Jungle Cruise were
some monkeys, and some different animal life, and reptile life, that you didn’t see
on the rest of the trip, and where the Silver River joined up with Ocklawaha. So—
you’ve heard of Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings? What was that movie?
X: The Yearling.
P: The Yearling.
D: Oh, okay.
P: Where it was made, supposedly the Jungle Cruise went that far down. But we
never saw it from that side, at any rate. But that was, Paradise Park. The
manager there was a Black man named Eddie Vereen—you made have heard of
him by now—but Eddie Vereen managed Paradise Park. It was open every day,
sunup to sundown. It was a very immaculate place. Besides the glass-bottomed
boat, there was swimming, with lifeguard on duty most of the time—trained
lifeguards, because most of them had been trained through 4-H because during
that time a lot of kids went to 4-H. 4-H was a summer program mostly. It did go
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 19
through the school year sometimes, but mostly during the summertime. It was
like a camp that was up in the forest, and so a lot a kids—there was a Black
section and a White section of course—so the Black kids went to Doe Lake to
camp, and they learned a lot of crafts, and swimming, and stuff like that, and be
lifeguards and so forth. So, usually guys had been to training like that who were
lifeguards. So there was the swimming. There was a big pavilion where you
could have a dancing and so forth. I mean, there were lots of picnic places
around, scattered through the park. I would say it probably was maybe about five
acres or so of park land—judging, I know what three acres is like, so I’m thinking,
would judge it to be, probably it was about five acres of picnic area and grounds
and so forth. There was also, you have heard of Ross Allen. Ross Allen had a
reptile—we called a reptile back in our day. A reptile institute. But it was a place
where they had lots of alligators and snakes and so forth.
X: Especially rattlesnakes.
P: Oh, yes. So, we had our version of it as well. And there were a couple of different
gentleman who worked that area, and a couple of them—well, both of them—
eventually were bitten by rattlesnakes and so forth. But, there was a Mr. Glover—
both of the guys in that, Willie Johnson, and—I can’t think of Mr. Glover’s first
name right now—but they were the men who worked there. And my oldest
brother, Wendell, used to run the photo shop in there. In there, you could take
pictures to show you had been to Paradise Park. It was a little souvenir shop
where you could buys things saying, you know, about Silver Springs and that
kind of thing.
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X: Paradise Park was known all over the state because—I can’t remember—any
school during that time, before school was over for the summer, you almost
always had a field day to Silver Springs, which was Paradise Park for Black
people, okay? From everywhere all over this state, you came to Silver Springs for
that big to-do before school was out.
M: So did you meet a lot of people from other parts of the state?
P: Oh yeah from all around, from the Southeast. That’s what I was saying earlier
about, one of the few Black parks throughout the southeastern United States.
And that was why on those other occasions, the holidays, they would hire the
extra boats to come down, to take care of the crowds and so forth. You met a lot
of kids that way, you know, and that was one thing that—and we could walk from
my house to Paradise Park. My brothers were brave enough, they would cut
through and go across the river at some point, and go over there. I followed them
doing a lot of things, but that one I didn’t. [Laughter] But, there was another,
bigger, souvenir shop also, where you could buy T-shirts, and caps, and things
like that and so forth. But they had a lunch counter, where you could buy—really,
a whole meal. Or, you know, you would bring your own stuff, however you
wanted to. They had cold drinks and whatever you wanted like that. No alcoholic
beverages or anything, though. The other thing about Paradise Park was that
there was usually something special at holiday times. Like, Christmas, Santa
Claus came and distributed gifts, that kind of thing. But Labor Day weekend was
a big weekend because there was always a Miss Paradise Park contest. My
senior year, I was entering the contest but I got ill and I couldn’t participate. I
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 21
don’t remember who did in my place now… But at any rate, I would have been a
contestant that year. But, these young ladies were from all over the southeast,
and one of the would be crowned. And basically, it was a swimsuit contest, really,
was what it was. [Laughter] But over the years—and that went from, I guess, the
early [19]50s late [19]40s, up until Paradise Park closed. So that was open for
many years, with lots of beautiful young ladies—
X: It wasn’t until ABC bought Silver Springs—by that, Paradise Park was closed,
and the springs was opened into all—you know, it was integrated. ABC, the
same ABC television, da da da da.
P: Agnes’s husband was a boat guy at Silver Springs, so she has some old inside
info too.
M: And so you were saying there were Black guys in the regular Silver Springs
area?
P: The boat guys? Mostly, they were all Black. Yes. It was maybe a couple of White
guys.
X: Back in those days, I don’t remember—
P: It was two. And I’m trying to think of that family’s name right now, because they
were one of the old families from Silver Springs. Oh, gosh! There’s one was my
person down in the boating place all the time. Cheatham! Cheatham families,
yes. One or two of those brothers—it was a good sized family of them—who
worked different areas of Silver Springs. But one of them did. I know there was
one guy who was one of the—there were no Black Jungle Cruise drivers, though.
M: Oh, so not even the guide could go down that!
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 22
P: Not even the guide was Black from the Jungle Cruise. Nope.
M: Wow. Was that a tough job? I’m just thinking, because you’re getting all these
White tourists from all over the southeast, probably coming to—like, did he ever
share any difficult stories about working that job, or was it pretty smooth for him?
Or what was that like?
P: In a way it was tough, only—but my dad always had a way of minimizing things,
first off. He always saw the good side of things. He saw very little bad in
situations and that kind of thing. I mean, it had to be awfully terrible for him to
really speak up so boldly. Maybe I’ll get to that part somewhere along the way,
but the only thing, I can remember one thing that really upset him one time was
that—because he was also, he didn’t, other than the boat guide. Now that part
was no problem, I never heard him talk about any bad experiences with that. But
then a point, the more he pastored, the busier he got, also. And it required more
of his time. So he sort of cut back on some of his other little jobs like that. But he
still did some things like, somewhat like an errand boy—running between offices
doing things, picking up mail from the post office and delivering stuff, those kinds
of things. But, then he also did a janitor’s job some days. And I can remember,
one Sunday morning, that he had cleaned the bathroom, and it wasn’t time for it
to be open yet, but these ladies said they had to go. So knowing him, he wasn’t
going to keep them out. He let them in. And as they were leaving, they happened
to mention to him that he needed to go back in and do a little more cleaning. And
when he did, they had defecated on the floor in the middle of the bathroom,
versus using the commode. And that really upset him. I think especially because
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 23
on Sunday morning, he had to go preach, and that kind of thing and so forth. But
that was one of the very negative things about a person individually that really
bothered him.
M: Did they know him personally at all?
P: Oh no, they were just some visitors.
X: Just to be [inaudible 48:21]
P: They just came there knowing that was what he was doing, and it wasn’t as
though they didn’t have time to make it, because it was right by the door—going
into the stall, you know, not the door that you go into the main bathroom. But it
was right there. I mean, I know we have times where we—but, from the way it
was, their clothes were not—
X: It was intentional.
D: Mmhm! [Laughter]
P: Yeah. It was that kind of thing, very intentional. Other than that, you never heard
him talk about unpleasant things, because, I think in a way, it was—if the day
went by and you weren’t called the “n”-word, then that would be unusual.
[Laughter]
X: But that was your name, back then.
P: That’s what I said.
X: That was just simply your name. “Hey, [n-]!”
P: It would have been a really sort if nobody had said it during the course of the
day.
D: Did you all ever get Black tourists that would stay with you all and family?
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 24
P: If Black tourists?
D: Or did they have a separate motel? Because you mentioned that a lot of stars
didn’t have any place to stay.
P: There was a little place in Ocala, on West Broadway, that was at one point—sort
of like a rooming house, actually, but it was also used as a motel for people
coming through. But, mostly, it was a rooming house. But I guess every now and
then, somebody might would be staying. Because even, say, like Sunday school
conventions, which were popular. When you couldn’t live in a hotel, people took
people into their homes to stay, so… But generally, you knew that that was what
it was going to be about. Not because somebody just visiting vacationing—I
mean, that would be a very rare thing anyway, that a Black family could take a
vacation, as such, like, to stay several days. Usually, you went to some place
where you had relatives so you could stay with them, and go do your sightseeing
or whatever. That kind of thing.
X: If you were a movie star, or singer, or something like that, you maybe stayed in
Daytona. And if you were coming to the—you would make a side trip to Ocala, to
the springs, if you wanted to see Paradise Park. Someplace where you never
stayed more—further away than you could drive back to your destination.
P: Especially people on the Chitlin’ Circuit, those people. Then they would stay
wherever else. Because lot of times, in the bigger cities they weren’t staying in
the motels either. But that’s what they would do, just got back and forth.
M: Did the Chitlin’ Circuit come through here?
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 25
P: It did. [Laughter] It did, and I can tell you, one of the nights James Brown was
here, was the same night that Reverend Abernathy spoke here. And there was
as big a crowd, or more, probably, at the club where James Brown was, than it
was at the Mass Meeting. And I happen to know, because—I went. [Laughter] I
went to the Mass Meeting, and that was—
X: And then to James Brown.
P: And then to James Brown. By the time the Mass Meeting was over, you couldn’t
hardly get up on the grounds out at the club. And that was one night, and this is
going to be out of sequence for what you’re doing, but—while it’s on my mind—
that was the one night that we did not spend in our house during all the Civil
Rights years. And that was because the threats were so very real, and there had
been an incident. And I don’t know if Mose Menchan, or Mr. Stevenson
mentioned it or not. But there were some little incidents, but that particular night,
they would not let us stay in our house. I stayed with some people. My mom and
dad stayed with some people. I had a brother Fred—the one who is just older
than Frank, who went to Virginia Union, they went together. He and his wife
stayed at another place. They were here visiting at the time, which was timely
because they picked up Reverend Abernathy from the airport in Jacksonville and
they took him back, kind of being unknown to—because they didn’t live here,
either. They lived down in South Florida. So, that was a car that nobody would
have suspected for Reverend Abernathy to be traveling in, because they were
after him also. But, that night, they would not because the threats were just too
real. Again, about the name calling being a daily thing, it was a daily thing to gets
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 26
threats. Every day. And it was at one point, they only wanted my mom to answer
the phone, because there was something about it—and this came from
somebody with the FBI—was that they would have more fun in a sense, but they
felt like they would get to more people, too, if different people were answering the
phone. But if one person’s answering all the time, that’s not what they wanted.
They wanted to be able to touch a lot of people. That kind of thing. So, she was
the only person. And at that particular time, Frank and his family, we were all
living in the same house. Their house was being built at that time. And so we
were all there together, under the same roof. I was there, and I had a baby. And
my husband wasn’t here at the time, he was a professional baseball player, and
it was right, at that particular time, it was right like beginning of baseball season,
somewhere along about that time, so it was in the spring of the year.
M: Oh okay, spring training kind of thing? Yeah.
P: Yes. And then, my younger brother was still at home. And then Dana was there,
and that really would get a lot of people—you know, this White young fellow,
living with these Black people kind of thing. But they just said it was unsafe, and
so only my mom was asked to answer the phone, take messages, and things like
that. But it was a daily thing. But at that particular time it was just very, very real.
You couldn’t trust anything, so you had to suspect every call, or every act was
real. But that was just very real that night. And that was one of the nights when,
even at the church, they just had things worked so that, it must’ve been every
Hunting and Fishing man from anywhere in town must have been there. One of
the times when the church was so loaded with guns that… [Laughter]
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 27
D: What was that night about? Was there a special reason why he came into town,
Reverend Abernathy?
P: Oh, it was part of our regular Mass Meetings. This is during the time my brother
was present of NAACP and so forth. We had national people always in our pulpit
for Mass Meeting, regularly. Regularly. Even Jackie Robinson was here. Some of
the well-known names in the NAACP, the higher-ups, would come here. We had
the people of the NAACP in the nation, Black Stars, and so forth, come in to our
pulpit for Mass Meetings.
D: Do you remember what the conversation of the message was when Abernathy
came?
P: I sure don’t. I wish I did but I don’t. I don’t even remember what it was when
Jackie Robinson was here, and I adored him. [Laughter] I’m 70 years old and I’m
coming to that age where things are starting to kind of fade away a little bit so—
M: It’s all good stuff so far. We’ve heard that the church would get packed for all
those Mass Meetings. People came out for—
P: Oh, it was! Not just standing room, it wasn’t even standing room only. I mean, all
over the grounds, all over. All over. Did you go through church when you
interviewed, uh—
M: Yeah, we were—
P: Or you’ve passed by the church? Have you seen it?
M: I mean, I guess it’s the new church.
P: It’s a new church, but it’s still sitting on the same spot.
M: Okay. Because we were down in the basement there.
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D: Yeah, we saw a picture of it.
P: Of the old church?
D: Mmhm.
P: Okay. I have one right here.
D: Because it was standing up on cinder blocks? Was it up on blocks at the time?
P: The very old church? Yes, at that time was, because men lights rigged under
there, and the whole bit and so forth. Yeah. So there would be people over to
that, next to Fort King, the street behind the church there. People would be in
where they could get.
X: That was before the overpass was built up, so you could just walk across the
street.
P: Still houses and so forth. The regular neighborhoods, too. But people would be
there early, way early, before time for me. Because if you wanted to be inside the
room—they had the microphones rigged so you could hear, but you know, you
want to be right there where the action is. Right there, seeing it yourself, take
place and that kind of thing. You couldn’t tell where the choir standing from the
real audience—literally—because everybody, people who sang and didn’t sing
were in the choir stand. [Laughter] All down the pulpit and everywhere. Yes. It
was always overflow. Always. And that was almost every Tuesday night.
M: That’s the other thing we were told by Rosemary and other—oh, sorry—
P: No, go ahead. Go ahead. I just have to remember something.
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M: That, even if there wasn’t some guest speaker coming in from somewhere, if
your brother was speaking, people packed the church just to hear him speak.
They say he was just—electric—
P: He was a dynamic speaker. He was electrifying. Mmhm, he was. I have to say he
was.
X: That old saying that God takes the good young, is very true in George’s case.
P: Are you going to be coming back?
M: Yeah. Anytime, yeah.
P: Okay, because I’m pretty sure I could put my hand on it right now, but I hate to
be digging while we could be talking and stuff. I know I have a couple of
programs, they’re just scribbled out hand-written notes from some Mass
Meetings.
M: Oh, that would be—yeah, that would be great. We can scan them, and get them
so they’re—
X: Tell me where they are, and I’ll get them for you.
P: No, they’re in this box like that, somewhere stored in this box right here.
M: Do you know if anyone ever recorded your brother speaking?
P: I know Mose Menchan did, but I didn’t get to church Sunday, so I didn’t--because
Rosemary and I talk about this last week, I didn’t get there, now. But I still could
have called him on the phone. I know that he did, but whether he would still have
it or not would be the question. Because that would be those old reel-type tapes.
M: Well, worth checking.
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P: My brother died in [19]73. And I know his last sermon was in in July or August of
[19]73 here.
M: Okay.
P: He died in November of [19]73. They say he died the same year Vertrielle was
born.
D: Do you know if they ever broadcasted any of the Mass Meetings, or any of the
preaching over the radio?
P: No. No, we hadn’t gotten quite that far yet. The only thing from the Black
community that was on the radio during those times: Cunningham Funeral Home
had—there were two brothers, James and Albert. And Albert used to have a little
Gospel program on the radio for a couple of hours or so, at some time during the
day. I don’t even remember what time during the day it was. But he had a
program on there. And the funny thing—I’ll tell you about this is that, he was
saying, people used to tell him all the time about being on the White radio station
and so forth. Of course, we didn’t have a Black radio station here! And then the
next thing was that, “You got to go over to White town to do it!” I think it was
probably during one of those times when we had, like, a boycott on downtown.
And he said, “Yeah it’s a job for me”—and, of course he ran the funeral home,
and he said, you know, “I got to feed my family,” and that kind of thing and so
forth. He said, but—oh, and then they would challenge him about, the ads were
for businesses—White businesses. He said, “But just remember: if you listen, I
never fail to tell you that they’re in downtown Ocala!” And that supposed to have
been your clue. [Laughter]
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D: No White business! [Laughter]
P: “They’re in downtown Ocala!” So that meant, you stay away from downtown!
X: There were ways of getting it across.
P: Mmhm.
D: You mentioned earlier about some of the threats and some other incidences, did
any of them manifest into anything that either scared you, or maybe scared your
parents or relatives to the point of—?
P: Something that did happen—now, and it would take Mr. Menchan or Stevenson
to really tell you the real story of how that went. But, my understanding—and my
dear brother’s dead, now—but there was a real incident of somebody getting
wounded. Now, let’s leave it at that. But nothing was never made of it.
X: Was there in a road trip between here and Daytona?
P: No, this was right here at the house. Right there in the field, right in front of the
house. But I’ll tell you something funny like that—
[Break in recording; resumes as AP is showing RM and JD objects around the house.]
M: Oh okay, one second. It’s back on there.
P: Oh yes, I’m sorry.
M: No that’s—so he was an artist.
P: He did. I did have an [inaudible 1:04:15] a Nativity scene he had done. It was just
on the canvas, and I used to put it out at Christmastime. And I thought I, was
thinking for a minute I had it in the chair over there. I did have it over there a
while ago, and put it away. He was quite a character. He was funny. He could be
very serious. And being a big brother, we were pretty close. Very close. Even
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 32
through all this, illnesses and everything else, we were just very close. Of course,
I consider I was close with each one of my brothers in certain ways. We each
had our own little thing. But he was a smart guy. You didn’t always see him on
the A/B Honor Roll, but he was very smart, he was. One day as a big brother, he
and Fred both really made get my lesson! My mother didn’t have to worry about
it. She turned it over to them—as though she wasn’t bad enough! They both were
English majors, originally in college. He taught English and Spanish in high
school.
M: Where’d he pick up Spanish? Was that at school too?
P: I think it was just another have-something-to-do kind of thing when he went on to
college. But I think—I guess maybe he was getting the taste of it in high school,
because that was the only foreign language that we ever had, or was ever
offered for us in the Black community, basically. I don’t think I ever heard of a
Black high school offering French, or anything else like that.
X: I took three years of French in high school.
P: Oh really? Wow! Y’all were progressive Black folks down here!
X: I went to Union Academy, what else [inaudible 1:06:29]
P: So for us, we all got a taste of Spanish. So I’m sure it’s just following along to
college, and it’s something else that he could do. And he was quite an athlete.
M: Oh yeah?
P: Yes. In baseball, football, track and field. He and Fred both—well now, Fred
didn’t play football, but they both did those, they were much alike. Only, Fred was
the quieter one and they’re closer in age to what the rest of us were. But they
AAHP 358A; Pinkston; Page 33
were like buddies. He was a very gifted person. He became a minister when he
was in college. I said he was quite an athlete. He played—but I’m saying
baseball was one of the things that he played. And he was always outstanding in
sports. So then, he got invited to the Brooklyn Dodgers’ baseball camp to try out.
And about that same time, he was also wrestling with the ministry thing. And so,
just before he left baseball camp he decided that—and at that time, it was kind of
difficult to be a minister and play a professional sport. So, he decided he would
go the ministry route. And so then, the next school term around, he enrolled in
theology. So he got a master’s. He had a master’s in theology. And he was one
of those people who loved learning. And he was a good pastor. He pastored at
Mount Moriah here for quite some time. He was outstanding at the things that he
did. Even as a big brother, he was outstanding in my book.
X: I think he had a special connection with young people—
P: Old people loved him, too.
X: But there was a special connection—
P: But—yeah, I understand what you’re saying. Yes.
X: When I say young people, I mean teens and college age. Because I was a
college age person when—you could talk to him.
P: Yeah, anybody. Anybody.
X: And you know, kids in college don’t truck around people in the ministry too much.
[Laughter]
P: No, but you know what the kids used to say? The kids who were in his
homeroom said that on Mondays, they had church again. And the rest of the
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week, they had to get down to basics with academics. They’d get church out the
way. But I guess it helped a lot of kids though—you know, a lot of kids find their
way, and know who they were, and what they want to do in life. Even as the kids
who were in his classes, that’s all you ever hear from them. “Man, Reverend