An Oral History of Survival During the Great Depression in Newton County, Mississippi
“History lives not only in courthouse records and census books, but also in the memories passed from one generation to the next.”
A Story Worth Preserving
As family historians, we spend countless hours searching through census records, marriage licenses, deeds, and obituaries. Those documents tell us when our ancestors were born, where they lived, and when they died.
But they rarely tell us what it felt like to live through some of the most difficult moments in American history.
Recently, while researching the Robinson and Evans families of Newton County, I received a remarkable story from Gwendolyn Evans —a story she carefully preserved from conversations with her mother, Dora Lee Robinson Evans (1933–2024).
Dora’s memories offer a rare glimpse into the realities of growing up in rural Newton County during the Great Depression—a time when the loss of a family’s breadwinner could mean losing everything else as well.
While I have not yet located foreclosure records or other public documents confirming every detail of this account, Dora’s recollections closely mirror the experiences of many African American farming families across Mississippi during the Depression. They deserve to be preserved, not only because they tell us about one family, but because they give voice to countless others whose stories were never recorded.
What follows is Dora’s story, preserved through the memories of her daughter, Gwendolyn Evans.
“We Lost Our House for $100”
After Dora’s father, Newton (Newt.) Robinson, died during the 1930s, her mother, Clemmie McDonald Robinson, found herself facing an impossible situation.
According to Dora, Newt. had borrowed $100 from the Newton Bank. After his death, Clemmie was unable to repay the loan.
Dora remembered what happened next:
“When Papa died he owed $100 from a loan that he got from Newton Bank. When our mama couldn’t pay back the loan they took the horses and cows. We lost our house for $100. We had a hard time, Gwen. We had a crying time.”
Those few sentences capture the devastating reality of the Great Depression.
During the 1930s, a debt of $100 represented several months’ wages for many agricultural laborers. For families already living close to the margin, it could mean the difference between keeping a home and losing everything.
Dora’s family was not alone. Throughout Newton County, many farming families—Black and white alike—struggled beneath falling crop prices, declining land values, bank failures, and mounting debt. African American families, however, often faced these hardships while also navigating the racial inequalities of the Jim Crow South, leaving them with far fewer resources to recover after financial loss.
For many rural families, livestock represented their livelihood. Horses provided transportation and powered farm equipment. Cows supplied milk and could be sold when money was scarce. Losing both meant losing not only property but the ability to rebuild.
When the house was gone, the Robinson family had little choice but to begin again somewhere else.
Starting Over on Jim Smith’s Farm
According to Dora’s recollection, the family relocated to the farm of a white landowner named Jim Smith near Decatur, Mississippi.
Instead of living in a home of their own, they moved into one of several shotgun houses provided for Black tenant families.
Dora described them simply:
“Just old shotgun houses. You could look through the front door and see straight all the way out the back door.”
Years later she asked whether members of the Smith family lived in similar houses.
The answer came quickly.
“No. That was for the Black folks.”
That brief exchange remained vivid in her memory for the rest of her life.
Children Went to Work
There was no such thing as idle time.
Everyone worked.
Dora remembered one of her responsibilities as helping apply insect poison to acres of cotton.
“This old man planted cotton and had acres and acres of cotton that they would poison. They made up poison with some kind of bad dust and syrup. Me and Gennie V would get a mop and bucket and we’d have to poison the cotton.”
Historians note that many Mississippi cotton farmers during this period used pesticide mixtures containing substances such as calcium arsenate, sometimes combined with syrup or molasses to help the mixture adhere to the cotton plants. Such chemicals were commonly used to combat insects like the boll weevil long before modern safety standards existed.
The work was exhausting.
Using a small hand mop, Dora and Gennie V dipped the mop into a bucket of pesticide and walked row after row allowing the liquid to drip onto the cotton.
She remembered the painful consequences.
“We did that until the skin would come off our legs. Those cotton leaves would rub against our legs and leave them very sore from that poison.”
Today, agricultural workers wear gloves, protective clothing, respirators, and other safety equipment.
Children like Dora had none.
Everyone Had a Job
The work changed with the seasons.
When rain prevented the men from plowing, they shelled corn stored in the crib.
During peach season, the family harvested fruit that was loaded onto trucks for market.
As Dora simply remembered,
“He had something for everybody to do.”
Those few words summarize the labor system under which many tenant families lived.
Adults worked.
Teenagers worked.
Children worked.
Survival depended upon every pair of hands.
“Mama Went to Get the Settlement”
One memory remained especially painful.
Dora remembered watching her mother make regular trips to the landlord’s house to receive what was known as a settlement—the yearly accounting showing what the family had earned compared to what they owed.
She recalled:
“Our mama would go to that white man’s house to get a settlement to see how she was coming along with her bill, and he would make ugly faces at Mama.”
For countless tenant farmers throughout the South, settlement day determined whether a family would finally become free of debt—or discover they owed even more than before.
Many families never escaped that cycle.
“We Were Just Like Roots“
Years later, after watching the landmark television miniseries Roots, Dora made a comparison that remained with her daughter.
“We were just like Roots.”
Dora was not equating tenant farming with slavery itself.
Rather, she was describing the power imbalance, relentless labor, economic dependence, and lack of control over daily life that reminded her of the world portrayed in Roots.
To Dora, the similarities were unmistakable.
Her words remind us that although slavery had ended generations earlier, many Black families continued to endure crushing poverty, limited opportunity, and unequal treatment well into the twentieth century.
The Day Everything Changed
Dora also remembered hearing that government officials eventually became involved.
Her Aunt Lula Mae later told the family:
“That old man treated Black folks so bad until people from the government came out there and closed him out and let the Black folks move wherever they wanted to go. That’s the way the folks got away from him.”
At present, I have not located documentary records explaining this event. Whether it involved agricultural regulations, labor practices, financial practices, or another government action remains a subject for future research.
Even so, the memory itself is historically significant.
For Dora’s family, this was remembered as the moment they were finally able to leave a system that had kept them trapped.
Why Stories Like This Matter
As genealogists, we often summarize lives with only a few entries in a timeline.
1930 – Living in Newton County.
1940 – Living near Decatur.
Those entries tell us where a family lived.
They cannot tell us why they moved.
Without Dora’s memories, we would never know about the $100 loan.
We would never know about the horses and cows that were taken.
We would never know about children walking through acres of cotton carrying buckets of pesticide.
We would never hear Clemmie Robinson’s quiet determination as she faced a landlord to receive a settlement she feared would leave her even deeper in debt.
These are the stories that transform names on a family tree into people whose struggles, sacrifices, perseverance, and resilience continue to shape our lives today.
A Daughter’s Gift
This history has survived because one daughter listened.
I am deeply grateful to Gwendolyn Evans for preserving her mother’s memories and generously allowing them to be shared with future generations.
Official records tell us that Dora Lee Robinson Evans was born in 1933, married Henry Wilson Evans, raised six children, and lived a life rooted in faith and family.
But only Dora’s own voice could tell us what it meant to lose a home, labor in cotton fields as a child, and endure one of the hardest chapters in her family’s history.
Sometimes the most valuable historical document is not found in an archive.
Sometimes it is found in the memories a mother entrusted to her daughter.
Author’s Note
This article is based upon the oral recollections of Dora Lee Robinson Evans (1933–2024) as preserved and shared by her daughter, Gwendolyn Evans, who generously granted permission for these family memories to be published. Historical context has been added where appropriate. At the time of publication, documentary evidence confirming the reported foreclosure, tenancy on Jim Smith’s farm, and the subsequent government intervention has not yet been located. Those portions of the narrative are presented as family oral history while additional research continues.
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