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I think my 2nd great grand uncle, David Sampson, gave me a little nudge from the other side just the other day. I woke up and had his name on my mind and even though I'd been concentrating my research efforts towards my Jones and Goodrich connections lately, I took a chance. I decided to Google his name and I changed up my search parameters a couple of different ways. Guess what? This article popped up from the Saturday Evening Post -Volume 189, Issue 1 -Page 38.
First, here's a little background information on David Sampson. For many years he was the cook at a camping area south of New Bern, NC, called Camp Bryan. Apparently, he was quite the personality. For more on Dave Sampson, you can read about him in these posts:
This Way Out!
Dave Sampson, a person of color, does the cooking for a party of gentlemen who own a hunting camp in North Carolina.
On, a night after dinner Dave was regaling a group of his employers with some of his experiences in the deep woods.
"One day," he said, "I went down yonder whar de ole rice plantation canal runs into de creek to ketch me a mess of fish. De fish ain't bitin' much; so arter w'ile I sticks my pole in the mud and I leans back under a tree to tek a little nap. I'm 'most asleep w'en I hears a rustlin' in de bushes behine me, and somethin' say Whoosh! --jes lak dat!
"I set up and look round, and dar right behind me is de bigges' black bear ever I see in my life --jes' settin' dar lookin' at me and lickin' out his tongue lak he's hongry fur some nigger."
"What did you do then, Dave?" asked one of the audience.
"Me boss? Why I jes clim' right out to de far end o' dat dar fishpole and drap off!"