plum.  There were five colored housing camps and Number 1 Hill was far above the other four in desirability.  It normally took a new miner four to five months to receive housing in one of the lesser camps and another three to five years to move up to Number 1 Hill.  Artway had received a choice location on "The Hill".  The Hill community contained the only colored school, the dance hall, several stands, the ball diamond, the tearoom, and a two-story church.  Residents of the Hill all lived less than two miles from the commissary and post office.  Other camps had to travel from three and a half to nine miles to enjoy these facilities.  Artway's home was Number 38 of 78 Hill homes, a nice midcamp location.

After just two months, Artway was ready to return to Silverrun to retrieve his family.  Now the kicker was when Mr. Faraday who had relatives in Lincoln agreed to go and bring back Pint's family in his 1934 Chevy (it was then 1937).  Upon arriving in Lincoln, Mr. Faraday allowed Artway to take the car to Silverrun to pick up his family and pick him up on the way back.  One can forgive Artway for feeling a little puffed up as he pulled up to the Archie household and gave a loud blast on the Chevy's horn.  Within ten minutes, it seemed that everyone in Silverrun had converged on the Archie's home.  Little kids were begging for rides, the Archie boys were jumping in and out of the car slamming doors, Marie sat behind the steering wheel pretending she could drive.  Finally, Artway, wife and son pulled out and swung through Jenifer enroute to Lincoln.  If the Silverrun community had been excited, the relatives in Jenifer were downright delirious.  Grandma Maude was crying, Aunt Mary was jumping up and down so excited she could hardly talk.

Within a month, both Curtis and Mexico were working for the Alabama Fuel and Iron Company.  Unfortunately, they ended up living in Markeeta, the farthest camp away, approximately 9 miles from Number 1 Hill.  Marie found her new home much to her liking.  The smallness of the duplex did not bother her at all for she had never enjoyed cleaning house.  The duplex came equipped with a coal burning stove, a homemade wooden table, four cane bottom chairs, and a wooden icebox in the kitchen.  Artway had managed to purchase an iron four-post bed, a used mahogany dresser complete with broken mirror, and a used chifferobe to adorn the combination livingroom/bedroom.  She could not believe her eyes when she saw that they had running water (a half block away) and electric lights.  Moreover, her duplex neighbor, Wilma Lenard, smoked and informed her that they had easy access to store bought cigarettes in the commissary.  That night Marie sat down and wrote two letters, one to her mother and one to Rosie Jenkins.  Life was good.

"Mr. Pint, He a Sport"

By 1942, WWII was well under way bringing with it new levels of prosperity to the mining industry.  There was something very special about colored mining communities.  They were considered far superior to share cropping and farming.  Mining camp lifestyle provided much more excitement and fellowship than rural living.  By this time, the Lenards had moved out, Artway and Marie had secured the entire four rooms of the duplex right after the arrival of their second child.

Dad had purchased a 1937 Ford with mechanical brakes and was revered community wide as a snazzy dresser.  He had mastered the art of conkaline and his "Do" was always in order.  He also had risen to the position of Secretary of the Colored Welfare Association; a non-paid position that carried with it several perks.  First, we had a water pipe extended right into our house.  I no longer had to carry (tote) water.  We were one of the few colored families that had a separate living room.  Next, our house was painted and trimmed by company carpenters every two years (I think I am still coughing from the lead paint).  We received a live turkey from the company every Thanksgiving and Christmas.  Life was good.  I can remember job seekers showing up at our house several days in a row looking for Mr. Artway.  When one finally caught up with                                         

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