Highlight Obituary
Berkley Bullock Obituaries
(1) The Daily Progress, Charlottesville, Jan. 27, 1908, p. 3.
The funeral services of the late Burkley B. Bullock were held from
the First (colored) Baptist church yesterday at 11 a.m., conducted
by Rev. Thos. H. Atkins, paster of Ebenezer Baptist church of which
he was a member and deacon, assisted by Rev. R.C. Quarles, pastor
of the First (colored) Baptist church and the order of Odd Fellows
of which he was also a member.
Bullock had been in failing health for over two years. He died at
the advanced age of 77 years and had been a member of the church for
65 years, having joined at the age of twelve. He organized the Old
Ivy Creek Baptist church, which is now Union Ridge Baptist Church
in the county. He was one of the pioneer business men of the city.
For a number of years he conducted a restaurant at the Union Station
and later engaged in the wood, coal and ice business. He was the father
of twelve children. After the death of his first wife, who was known
to all on account of her great benevolence, he married again and is
survived by his second wife, who was attentive and faithful throughout
his entire illness; 10 children, 3 sons and 7 daughters, 3 stepchildren,
23 grandchildren, one great grandchild and a number of other relatives.
(2) Taken from, "Sketch of Berkeley Bullocks, " published in Corks and Curls of the Virginia University, No. 4, 1889-90, p. 132-3.
Of the many odd and picturesque characters of the negro race that
are to be met with everywhere around the University, but that are now
fast passing away before the superior intellectual culture and proud
assertion of equal rights on the part of their descendants, Berkeley
Bullock (No. 4) is one of the best known and most generally liked by
the students.
It would take the pen of a Page or a Harris to do justice to the old
man, to describe his quaint appearance and quainter ways, and withal
to give a true picture of as great a mixture of keenness and kindness
of distrust and liking of religion and superstition as ever it pleased
the Almighty to throw together haphazard in one human being. We only
hope, therefore, in attempting a sketch of the old manis that in future
years it may serve to call to the minds of our fellow-students how,
when worn out by study or by some all-night "session" on the
Range, they would visit the little house by the wayside and forget their
woes in close and interesting intercourse with Berkeley chicken legs
and soda biscuits or in exchange of bantering and exasperating conversation
with Berkeley himself.
No one that has ever come into contact with Berkeley can forget his
appearance, his manner, and his habits. He is a medium-sized, weazened
little man, of perhaps fifty, with bandy legs and stooping shoulders.
His face is furrowed deep by the plough of time, not a little aided
by care, in the shape of a large family and business much crippled by
"that'ar new fangled rest'rant over thar." But still from
under his bushy eyebrows there gleam with unabated brilliancy a pair
of furtive, restless eyes, which seem always on the alert for chance,
gain or unexpected disaster at the hands of his, alas, too often, riotous
customers. When not noiselessly gliding about among his chicken legs
and apple pies, Berkeley stands in the corner suspiciously eyeing his
customers with folded hands and a pitiable look of resigned dispair.
It is evident that he is never certain of his pay and is always haunted
with a gnawing fear that the frolicsome students may even make away
with his house. But, nevertheless, Berkeley is a kind-hearted man, and
when asked for credit -- after the meal has been consumed -- he acquiesces
with a fair show of grace.
Berkeley is a man of strong convictions. He is a Republican of praise-worthy
consistency, and if you should ask him why, you would be informed that
it is only because he is a "nigger and the 'publicans sot me free."
In religion he is a steadfast Baptist, regularly "seeking"
at stated intervals and always finding religion in the most out-of-the-way
places, such as up the chimney, in the tea-kettle, under the table,
and above all in his heart. When the much sought object has been found,
he becomes becomingly "happy," weeps, shouts, sings, claps
his hands and gets baptized in orthodox fashion.
One of his greatest delights is a nice, agreeable funeral, where everyone
gets "happy," the corpse is sent to heaven in a rousing style
by the preacher and all unconverted surviving relatives consigned to
eternal damnation amidst the fervent groans of the audience. To attend
a funeral, a baptizing, or a circus parade, Berkeley will forsake family,
friends, customers, and chicken legs; he will go through sun or through
rain, by night or by day, in summer or in winter, and will never consider
himself unrecompensed.
With all his desire of gain, Berkeley is remarkably honest. He is a
kind and loving parent, a good friend, and with all his superstition
an earnest Christian. He well knows his place, and is never pushing,
scorning with holy indignation the growing class of half-educated, aspiring
negroes of the present, justly believing with Uncle Remus that he could
"fling more edication in a Nigger with a barr'l stave than all
the schools twixt this and Michigan."
Such is an imperfect sketch of Berkeley, which, if perfect, could scarce
be necessary, for we all know him so well that there is hardly a need
of anything to bring back to memory what none are likely to forget.
In coming years many, looking back upon their college days, will recall
with pleasure the little frame house, the midnight suppers, and, above
all, the good old man who presided over all withso much dignity and
forbearance, and remembering, will breathe an ardent wish for Berkeley's
continued success and happiness.
Berkeley is a silent man and rarely speaks unless spoken to; but when
he does become talkative, it is the talk of the good old ante-bellum
darkey, not the polished small talk and chitƒchat of the present
generation of colored gentlemen. He is full of cornƒfield philosophy,
reminiscences, folk-lore and quaint observations on men and things,
all so well and pithily expressed that it is well worth one's while
to listen with attention to one of our best surviving representatives
of the old plantation hand.