Before being allowed to take Burney, his parents had had to sign a release with an address where he could be contacted. Major Pevoto reluctantly gave Juanita the address, which, coincidentally, was only a few miles away at a place called Southampton. Though the hour was already late, she refused to wait and rushed to be by her husband’s side.
It was near midnight when she arrived at the house, though the word house could hardly describe the place. Her home, rather her parents’ home, in San Antonio was easily, and by no accident, one of the largest in the city; this house was at least four times its size. The house was set back from the road by at least two hundred yards and had a long lane up to the door from the gatehouse by the main road. The road was fronted by a stone wall that would have kept the house from being visible had it been any smaller. A night guard at the gate refused to even consider letting Juanita in until, after almost an hour of pleading, she convinced him to look at the marriage license. Upon seeing the document he made a call on a telephone to the main house. Then after she waited almost another hour, an automobile arrived at the gate and a large man dressed in a dark suit escorted her to the home.
The front door opened to a large three-story atrium where she was introduced to a kind but stern looking older gentleman who claimed to be Jay’s father. Juanita, exhausted and in tears, pleaded for the opportunity to see Jay. The man explained that his son was quite ill and not in shape for visitors. In fact, he said, Jay was possibly near death, and a physician was with him. Juanita was now near frantic, demanding to see him. The gentleman asked her to calm down and took her by the arm into a library off to the side of the main atrium. He then asked to see the marriage license. Juanita was hesitant but agreed to show it to him in hope that he would realize that she was, in fact, Jay’s wife and had every right to be with him at this time.
Upon reading the document the man looked at her and asked, “How much do you want?”
Juanita was stunned and simply stared at the man.
“Will a thousand dollars take care of this?” He asked as he reached into a desk drawer and removed some cash.
Juanita began to cry, when suddenly the doors leading out to the atrium opened and a woman burst in. The woman ran to the man, sobbing, and said, “Hamel, Jay’s gone.”
Juanita was stunned as she realized that her husband was dead, and she never even got to tell him that he was going to be a father.
While holding his wife the man looked at Juanita with fire in his eyes and ordered, “Get out of my house, now!”
Juanita just stood there with tears streaming when he said again, “Someone get this Mexican whore out of my house!”
Suddenly the man who drove her to the house grabbed her from behind and carried her out to the automobile and drove her back out of the gate and into the little town where he shoved her out and ordered her never to return.
Two weeks later, broke and desperate, Juanita arrived at the door of her parents’ house. The commotion that took place the night before she ran away had been quite calm compared to her welcome home. After thirty minutes being yelled at, Juanita was finally told that she no longer had a home. She never got to explain that her soldier was dead or that she carried his baby. She was told that she had made her decision when she ran away and that she was not ever to return.
Sarah Burney was born in Houston, where Juanita found a sympathetic cousin who gave her a place to live. That refuge only lasted a few weeks. For the next year Juanita and baby Sarah bounced from relative to relative, and finally she found a room at a boarding house and a job as a waitress in the small town of Crockett. By the time Sarah was three, Juanita was no longer the bright happy young girl she had been when she met her Captain in the Alamo Laundry and Cleaning Service. She had become hardened and bitter.
She shared a room in the boarding house with another waitress named Elaina who worked some evenings at a brothel on First Street. Elaina tried for months to get Juanita to join her there, but Juanita had no interest in such thing. Then one evening they were told that the café was closing. This was the worst possible news. Juanita had run out of relatives and had no place left to go. Finally, realizing that there were no options, she went to the house on First Street. At the beginning the work disgusted her, but when the money began to add up, her perspective changed. She and Elaina started alternating nights, one working and the other staying with Sarah. Soon Juanita, only working three nights a week, was making far more than she had made working six days a week at the café.
Not long after she began her new profession, a lumber mill owner by the name of Horace McCracken Hamilton came to town. Mr. Hamilton lived way up in Henderson but came all the way down to Crockett because, as he put it, “it was wiser to find one’s ‘pleasure’ away from home.” Mr. Hamilton became one of Juanita’s favorite customers, partly because he was pleasant and kind but mostly because he gave her a healthy tip. Men who left tips were always treated better because tips were not shared with the house.
One evening while sitting in the parlor downstairs at the house on First Street Juanita and Mr. Hamilton began to talk about investments. Juanita, of course, had no education in the stock market, but she had overheard a lot from her father all those years. Hamilton was quite impressed with her knowledge, realizing that Delilah, the name she used while inside house on First Street, was not just pretty, but she was also smart.
One evening after “business” was finished, Mr. Hamilton made a job proposal to Delilah. Naturally, of course, she thought he was just full of wind, but as he persisted she realized that he was quite serious. He explained that he had come in possession of an old tomato farm in the southern corner of Cherokee county. The house, he said, was quite large, looking a lot like an old South plantation home with a huge porch and Roman columns across the front. He could have a crew fix it up and in no time they would be in business. She would run it, of course, and he would serve as a silent partner.
She agreed to think about the deal, and one week later they made a “formal” agreement. It was a handshake deal because one could hardly expect a lawyer to draw up a contract for an illegal business.
Juanita and Sarah, along with Elaina, packed what things they had and moved to the tomato farm. Immediately upon arriving at the farm Juanita saw the small house out back and decided it was the perfect place to raise Sarah. It had once been a hen house, but with some work and a new floor it made a nice little home. With the money she made, Juanita was able to hire Marie as a housekeeper to look after Sarah while Juanita worked.
As she grew, Sarah was strictly forbidden from entering the main house. In fact, she was never even told what kind of work her mother did, but naturally by the time she reached her teen years she learned about these things, as kids that age will tend to do. Though her mother tried to keep her separate, Sarah knew all the girls who lived in the house and talked with them frequently - but always in the yard behind the house because even as she reached her late teens she never actually went inside.
Sarah attended school in Maydelle, walking the three miles each way every day. On Sundays she and Marie attended the little church there. Unfortunately there were no Catholic churches in town, so the two had to become Baptists. Juanita never attended church with them. None of the local men ever came into the Farm, but she knew from visits to the Bradford’s General Merchandise Store that everyone knew who and what she was. Because she was known, she went to great pains to keep from being seen with Sarah.
Of course, people knew that a little girl lived in the house behind The Farm but there were several people who worked on the farm who were not part of the “business that took place there.” Juanita had gone to great lengths to make the business an actual working farm. Out on the highway, three miles from the farm, she had a “tomato stand” where they sold not only tomatoes but all sorts of produce, including black-eyed-peas, butter beans, corn, and even turnips, all grown on “The Maydelle Tomato Farm.” Of
course, those seeking the other services the farm provided knew it as “Miss Delilah’s Tomato Farm,” or “Miss Delilah’s Tomato Farm and House of Pleasure,” or, more often than not, it was just “Miss Delilah’s.”
As it turned out, Juanita really had inherited a good head for business. The Farm was the largest and most successful farm within miles. Eventually she had houses built for the people she hired to work the fields and tend the cattle. Granted, none of it would have been possible without the money generated by the “business,” but as Mr. Hamilton joked, “If the house ever burned down, Delilah would still turn a profit off corn and turnips.”
One Saturday afternoon just a few weeks after Sarah’s sixteenth birthday, she was walking home from spending the day at her friend Clara’s house in Maydelle. Clara’s parents had come to know and love Sarah, though they were initially slow to accept the girl. They knew where Sarah lived and were, understandably, hesitant to let their daughter become friends with someone from such a background. They, of course, knew Marie from church and admired her dedication and hard work each year at the annual spring revival. Marie explained that although she lived on The Farm, Sarah had never been in the house, and she doubted the young girl knew any more about what took place inside than did Clara.
So that Saturday as she turned off the main road onto the lane leading to the house, as she had done a hundred times before, she had no cares in the world. She was running later than normal, and as the rays of sunlight gave way to dusk, she picked up her pace as much as she could, knowing what trouble she would be in if she didn’t get home before dark. Not many visitors came along during the day, but on the occasion that an automobile passed as she walked up the road, she paid no attention to them, and they, understandably, were too focused on their destination to notice her.
Then, as it was just about dark, a sedan with two young men in it pulled up beside her. The young man driving asked, “Hi! Would you like a ride up to the house?”
Sarah was a little frightened by the boys and shook her head, continuing on her way.
But the men were not so easily deterred. “My name’s Peterson and this is my little brother, Richard. He’s never been to the farm.”
Sarah tried to ignore them, but they persisted.
“Do you live here at the farm?”
“Please leave me alone.”
“Look she talks,” Richard joked.
“Come on, get in. We’re goin’ the same place as you. There’s no reason you should walk all that way.”
Sarah stopped and looked at them. She was not out much when men were coming to the Farm, so she didn’t see many of them, but the ones she did see were always much older than these two. These men were not much older than she. Sarah looked up at the sky; it was almost dark. She then looked down the lane, knowing that she was still a long way from home.
“You’re going to the house?”
“Yeah,” Peterson answered with a smile.
She hesitated for a few moments and then nodded. Peterson, the driver, got out of the car, and she climbed into the seat between the two men.
As soon as Peterson was back in the car Richard asked Sarah, “So what’s your name?”
“Sarah.”
“Isn’t that haunted cemetery around here?”
“Sure. It’s right down the road,” Peterson responded.
“I’ve never seen a ghost. Have you, Sarah?”
“I need to get home.”
Richard put his arm around her. “Oh, come on, we won’t be long.”
Peterson put the car in reverse and headed back to the main road.
“Please,” she pleaded, “I need to get back.”
“You look frightened,” Peterson stated as he headed the car up the road and away from the lane, “there’s no reason for a girl like you to be afraid of a couple of boys like us.”
“I really need to get home.”
Richard produced a bottle from bottle from the floorboard, “Here, have a drink. It’ll make you feel better.”
Laughing, he pushed the bottle to her lips. She tried to resist as alcohol splashed all over her dress. She swallowed some. It burned and caused her to cough.
Peterson pulled the car up to a cemetery gate.
“My little brother’s never been to the tomato farm. Why don’t you give him a little taste of what he can expect?”
Richard started kissing and groping her.
Now in tears she pleaded, “Please stop.”
She began trying to push him away as Peterson took a long pull from the bottle. Richard finally opened the door and stepped out of the car. He pulled on Sarah, ripping her dress completely open.
“Come out here with me. There’s no room in the car.”
Standing outside the car he tried to pull her out, but she continued to resist. Laughing, Peterson gave her a shove, and she started sliding off the seat. Continuing to fight, she kicked at Richard and he fell into a slight ditch on the roadside. Sarah tumbled out of the car on top of him. Seeing her chance, she took off running down the road in the direction of the house. Richard got to his feet and began to run after her while Peterson sat laughing.
Sarah slipped through a barbed wire fence on the roadside, leaving a piece of her torn dress hung on the wire. Richard tried to pursue but got hung up in the fence. Having played in these fields all of her life, she had no trouble finding her way through the corn rows and woods and easily found her way back home.
Richard eventually got through the fence but lost her once she got into the corn and finally gave up. In the distance, Peterson could be heard laughing.
It was another thirty minutes before Sarah got home. Her dress had been torn to shreds, and she had scratches and cuts all over her arms and legs from running through bushes, woods, and cornfields. With tears streaming down her face, she recounted what had happened to Marie, who, upon hearing the story, ran into the house to get Juanita.
Embarrassed and still frightened, Sarah re-told her ordeal to her mother. Though hardened and bitter from life, Juanita had surprising compassion when it came to Sarah. Regardless of what hardships life had thrown her, Juanita was a good mother who worked tirelessly to give her baby a future.
Early the next morning Juanita and Marie took the farm truck into Jacksonville. Juanita decided that Sarah should not be living behind the house. She needed to be away from that environment. It had happened once and it could easily happen again.
After a little looking, they found a nice little whitewashed building just off Commerce Street. Juanita had often thought about opening a produce store, and this was a good opportunity. Sarah and Marie could live in the apartment on the second floor, and they would sell vegetables in the store downstairs through the summer and dry goods during the winter. The place really didn’t need to make money; the other business provided plenty of income, but still, it wouldn’t hurt if it turned a profit.
So Sarah and Marie began their little produce store. A year later Sarah finished her education, and at her mother’s insistence, she enrolled in the Alexander Collegiate Institute there in Jacksonville. She was not a good student and hated school. There were very few women in the institute, and every man there reminded her of the two brothers who drove her to the cemetery that terrible night. Finally, after a couple of long nights of arguing, Juanita finally relinquished and Sarah left school to work full time at the produce store.
Sarah worked hard, and the little store flourished. Soon she began taking produce from several local farmers. And since farmers were coming in almost every day, she began selling other things that they needed such as farm tools and feed, and of course overalls and tractor parts.
A couple of years after she began working full time at “The Farm Produce Store” Sarah noticed a young man hiding behind the grubbing hoe display looking at her, but she couldn’t get a good look at him. She really didn’t give
him any more thought until the next day when she walked out to the post office to buy stamps.
She didn’t see the car following her as much as she sensed it. Finally after she looked back a couple of times the car drove on past her and parked on the street a little ahead. Still not concerned, but curious, she continued on along the sidewalk. She tried not to look at the car, but she could tell that the driver was definitely watching her.
Then as she passed Richard Crawford, the younger of the two brothers, stepped out of the car and asked, “Hey sweetie! Remember me?”
Sarah froze; even before she turned around she knew the voice and was terrified. Turning, she looked at the face that she had tried to block from her memory then spun and began walking quickly up the sidewalk.
Richard, smiling broadly, chased after her.
“Come on, I just want to take you for a ride.”
“Please go away,” she pleaded without stopping.
“Don’t be that way. I just want to have some fun.”
“I’ve got to go.”
“I’ll get my brother; he’s married now, but he still likes to have fun.”
She began walking faster to get away from him. Finally he grabbed her arm.
“Come on,” he began, still smiling. “We’ll pay whatever you want.”
Terrified and in tears she tried to pull her arm free.
“Please let me go,” she said much louder than she intended.
People along the street looked at them, and Richard quickly let go. His smile quickly went away.
“I don’t know why you think you’re too good for me, but I don’t have to take insults from a whore.”
Tears streaming down her cheeks, she turned away from him and began running up the street. With fire in his eyes Richard watched her run away. He then noticed people along the street looking at him. He quickly turned and went back to his car.
For the next two weeks Sarah lived in terror, almost never leaving the store or apartment above. Finally, after a week and knowing that Marie had long since concluded that something had happened, Sarah sat down with both her mother and Marie and told them about Richard. It was decided, though Sarah objected, that they would sell the store and open a new business much farther away.
That Night at the Palace Page 21