My father was James
Usray. Mother was Maylinda
Roebuck. My maternal grandfather was William Roebuck, three-fourths
Choctaw.
My maternal grandmother was Felayah Polayah Homer,
one-half blood Choctaw, daughter of John Homer of the Shacchi Homer
Nation, the name, Sig-Red Crawfish. John Homer’s wife was Chief
Natastachi’s daughter.
My paternal grandfather was Phillip
Usray, one-half
Cherokee. My paternal grandmother (name forgotten) was sister to
Chief Bowl of East Texas, who held a Spanish grant to lands before
Texas independence. He aided General Houston in the battle of San
Jacinto.
Josephine Usray Lattimer’s grandparents came to the
Indian Territory over the Trail of Tears.
The Choctaws in Mississippi were a law abiding and
cultured farming people. They had good homes, churches....
All of the Indians in this District gathered at
Memphis, Tennessee, in 1832 and were transported across the
Mississippi in the steamboats, the Reindeer, the Cleopatra, the Talma
and the Sir Walter Scott. In crossing over the Choctaws sang this
song:
Fare thee well to Nunialchwayah (meaning to the land we love so
dear). Nunialchwayah was in memory of the leaning Pole “Fabuasa”, the
legend of which may be found at the close of history of the Choctaws.
When the Choctaws reached Arkansas, the Government had wagons and
teams there ready for them. The Indians were loaded into the wagons
and they started for the Government post, near Little Rock, Arkansas.
In loading my people got separated from each other for
there were hundreds of wagons on this journey. When they reached the
Ouachita (meaning 4th River) River, it was on a rampage and out of
banks. The roads were almost impassable. It was raining and cold.
Even for all the well and strong, the journey was almost beyond human
endurance. Many were weak and broken-hearted, and as night came there
were new graces dug beside the way. Many of the Indians contracted
pneumonia fever and the cholera. They camped a mile from the
Ouachita, waiting for the water to recede so they could cross. While
they were camped here, Ezekiel Roebuck, father of my grandfather,
William Roebuck, became ill but said nothing. When the river was low
enough to cross, everyone got in the wagons and started on the journey
but Ezekiel was so sick he became unconscious and fell over. Some one
told the driver and he said, “I will have to stop and put him out as
we can’t afford to have any one with the Cholera along.” So they
stopped by the road side and put him out. My great grandmother said,
“You can put the children and me out too,” and the driver replied,
“All right, but he will soon be dead and you and your three children
will have to walk the balance of the way.” Each child had a small
blanket. My great-grandmother had a paisley shawl she had brought
along a bucket of honey and some cold flour from their home. This
flour is made by parching corn and grinding it in a coffee mill until
pulverized. This food she carried along for her six months old baby.
She begged the driver for food and a blanket for Great-grandfather,
and he grudgingly gave the blanket and one days supply of food.
Great-grandfather was conscious at times. He had dubbed
Great-grandmother “Little Blue Hen” and when he became conscious of
their plight, he would say, “Dear Little Blue Hen, why didn’t you take
the children and go on, I can’t last much longer, and my Soul will
rest much easier if I knew you were safe. My body is just dust and
will be all right any place.” She replied, “As long as you live I’ll
be with you, Dear.” Then the Little Blue Hen and two boys, aged ten
and twelve, set about fixing a bed.
