In the spring of 1895 I received a telegram at Tuskegee from prominent citizens in Atlanta asking me to accompany a committee composed of Atlanta people,—all white, I think, except Bishop Gaines and Bishop Grant,—to Washington to appear before the Committee on Appropriations for the purpose of inducing Congress to make an appropriation to help forward the Exposition which the citizens of Atlanta were at that time planning to hold. I accepted this invitation and went to Washington with the committee. A number of the white people in the delegation spoke, among them the Mayor and other officials of Atlanta, and then Bishop Gaines and Bishop Grant were called upon. My name was last, I think, on the list of speakers. I had never before appeared before such a committee or made any address in the capitol of the Nation, and I had many misgivings as to what I should say and the impression I would make. While I cannot recall my speech, I remember that I tried to impress upon the Committee with all the earnestness and plainness of language that I could that if Congress wanted to help the South do something that would rid it of the race problem and make friends between the two races it should in every way encourage the material and intellectual growth of both races, and that the Atlanta Exposition would present an opportunity for both races to show what they had done in the way of development since freedom, and would at the same time prove a great encouragement to both races to make still greater progress. I tried to emphasize the fact that political agitation alone would not save the Negro, that back of politics he must have industry, thrift, intelligence and property; that no race without these elements of strength could permanently succeed and gain the respect of its fellow citizens, and that the time had now come when Congress had an opportunity to do something for the Negro and the South that would prove of real and lasting benefit, and that I should be greatly disappointed if it did not take advantage of the opportunity. I spoke for fifteen or twenty minutes and was very much surprised at the close of my address to receive the hearty congratulations and thanks of all the members of the Atlanta delegation, as well as the members of the Committee on Appropriations. I will not prolong the story, except to add that the Committee did pass the resolution unanimously, agreeing to report a bill to Congress in the interest of the Atlanta Exposition. Our work, however, did not end with making these addresses before the Committee. We remained in Washington several days. The Atlanta committee had meetings every day and the colored members were invited to these, and were given a free opportunity to express their views. Certain members of Congress were parceled out to each member of the Atlanta committee to see, and we spent some time in convincing as many individual members of Congress as possible of the justness of Atlanta’s claim. We called in a body upon Speaker Thomas B. Reed. This was the first time I had ever had the pleasure of shaking hands with this great American; since then I have come to know him well and am greatly indebted to him for many kindnesses. After we had spent some time in Washington in hard effort in the interest of the bill, it was called up in Congress and was passed with very little opposition. From the moment that the bill passed Congress the success of the Atlanta Exposition was assured.

Soon after we made this trip to Washington, the directors of the Atlanta Exposition decided that it was the proper thing to give the colored people of the country every opportunity possible to show, by a separate exhibit, to what progress they had attained since their freedom. To this end the directors decided to erect a large and commodious building to be known as the Negro Building. This building in size, architectural beauty and general finish was fully equal to the other buildings on the grounds. It was entirely constructed by colored labor and was filled with the products of Negro skill, brains, and handicraft.

After it was decided to have a separate Negro exhibit it became quite a question as to the best manner of securing a representative and large exhibit from the race. I, in connection with prominent colored citizens of Georgia, was consulted on a good many occasions by the directors of the exposition. It was finally decided to appoint a Negro commissioner to represent each Southern State, who should have charge of collecting and installing the exhibit from his state. After these state commissioners were appointed, a meeting of them was called in Atlanta for the purpose of organization and forming plans to further the Negro exhibit. At the joint meeting of these State Commissioners, it was decided that a Chief Commissioner to have the general supervision of all the exhibits should be selected. A good many people insisted that I should accept the position of Chief Commissioner. I declined to permit my name to be used for this purpose, because my duties at Tuskegee would not permit me to give the time and thought to it that the position demanded. I did, however, accept the position of Commissioner for the State of Alabama. After a good deal of discussion and some disagreement, Mr. I. Garland Penn, of Lynchburg, Virginia, was selected by the Commissioners and this choice was made unanimous. The success of the Negro exhibit was in a very large measure due to the energy and fidelity of Mr. Penn. No one who voted for him, I think, ever had reason to regret doing so. Most of the states, especially the Southern States, including the District of Columbia, had very creditable exhibits—exhibits that in many cases surprised not only the Negro race but the white people. I think the class of people who were most surprised when they went into the Negro Building were some of the Southern white people who, while they had known the Negro as a field hand, as a servant, and seen him on the streets, had not been in any large degree into his homes and school-houses. At this Exposition, they had, I believe, the first general opportunity to see for themselves the real progress that the Negro was making in the most vital things of life, and it was very interesting as well as satisfactory to hear their constant exclamations of surprise and gratification as they walked through the Negro Building.

The Tuskegee Normal and Industrial Institute made a special effort to prepare a large and creditable exhibit, and in this the institution was most successful. The Tuskegee exhibit consisted of all forms of agricultural products, various articles made in the shops, such as two-horse wagons, one-horse wagons, single and double carriages, harness, shoes, tinware, products from the sewing rooms, laundry, printing office, and academic work, in fact all of the twenty-six industries in operation at Tuskegee were well and creditably represented. With the exception of the exhibit from the Hampton Institute, Hampton, Va., Tuskegee had the largest exhibit in the Negro Building.

As the day for the opening of the Exposition began to draw near the Board of Directors began to prepare their programme for the opening day. A great many suggestions were made as to the kind of exercises that should be held on that day and as to the names of the speakers to take part. As the discussion went on from day to day, Mr. I. Garland Penn was bold enough to suggest to the Commissioners that, as the Negroes were taking such a prominent part in trying to make the Exposition a success, it was due them that they should have some representation on the programme on the opening day. This suggestion by Mr. Penn was discussed for several days by the Board of Directors, none, however, seeming to have any great objection to it,—the only objection being that they feared it might bring upon the Exposition hurtful criticism. The Board, however, finally voted to ask some Negro to deliver an address at the opening of the Exposition. Several names were suggested, but in some manner, largely I think due to Mr. Penn, my name was selected by the Board, and in due time I received an official communication from the President of the Exposition inviting me to deliver this address. It was the middle of August when I received this invitation. The Exposition was to open on the 18th of September. The papers throughout the country began at once discussing the action of the Board of Directors in inviting a Negro to speak, most of the newspaper comments, however, being favorable.

The delicacy and responsibility of my position in this matter can be appreciated when it is known that this was the first time in the history of the South that a Negro had been invited to take part on a programme with white Southern people on any important and national occasion. Our race should not neglect to give due credit to the courage that these Atlanta men displayed in extending this invitation; but the directors had told the Negroes from the beginning that they would give them fullest and freest opportunity to represent themselves in a creditable manner at every stage of the progress of the Exposition, and from the first day to the last this promise was kept.

The invitation to deliver this address came at a time when I am very busy every year preparing for the opening of the new school year at Tuskegee, and this made it rather difficult for me to find time in which to concentrate my thoughts upon the proper preparation of an important address, but the great responsibility which had been entrusted to me weighed very heavily on me from day to day. I knew that what I said would be listened to by Southern white people, by people of my own race and by Northern white people. I was determined from the first not to say anything that would give undue offense to the South and thus prevent it from thus honoring another Negro in the future. And at the same time I was equally determined to be true to the North and to the interests of my own race. As the 18th of September drew nearer the heavier my heart became and the more I felt that my address would prove a disappointment and a failure. I prepared myself, however, as best I could. After preparing the address I went through it carefully, as I usually do with important utterances, with Mrs. Washington, and she approved of what I intended to say. On the 16th of September, the day before I started for Atlanta, as several of the teachers had expressed a desire to hear my address, I consented to read it to them in a body. When I had done so and heard their criticisms I felt more encouraged, as most of them seemed to be very much pleased with it.

On the morning of September 17, 1895, together with Mrs. Washington, Portia, Baker and Davidson, my children, I started for Atlanta. On the way to the depot from the school, in passing through Tuskegee, I happened to meet a white farmer who lived some distance in the country, and he in a rather joking manner said to me, “Washington, you have spoken with success before Northern white audiences, and before Negroes in the South, but in Atlanta you will have to speak before Northern white people, Southern white people and Negroes altogether. I fear they have got you into a pretty tight place.” This farmer diagnosed the situation most accurately, but his words did not add to my comfort at that time. On the way to Atlanta I was constantly surprised by having both colored and white people come to the cars, stare at me and point me out and discuss in my hearing what was to take place the next day. In Atlanta we were met by a committee of colored citizens. The first thing I heard when I stepped from the cars in Atlanta was this remark by an old colored man near by: “That’s the man that’s gwine to make that big speech out at the Exposition to-morrow.” We were taken to our boarding place by the committee and remained there until the next morning. Atlanta was literally packed at that time with people from all parts of the country, including many military and other organizations. The afternoon papers contained in large head lines a forecast of the next day’s proceedings. All of this tended to add to the burden that was pressing heavily upon me.

On the morning of the day that the Exposition opened, a committee of colored citizens called at my boarding place to escort me to the point where I was to take my place in the procession, which was to march to the Exposition grounds. In this same procession was Bishop W. J. Gaines, Rev. H. H. Proctor and other prominent colored citizens of Atlanta. What also added to the interest of this procession was the appearance of several colored military organizations which marched in the same procession with the white organizations. It was very noticeable that in the arrangement of the line of march the white officers who had control of the procession seemed to go out of their way to see that all of the colored people in the procession were properly placed and properly treated. The march through the streets out to the Exposition grounds occupied two or three hours, and, as the sun was shining disagreeably hot, when I got to the Exposition I felt rather fagged out, and very much feared that my address was going to prove a complete failure.

As I now recall, the only colored persons who had seats on the platform were Mr. I. Garland Penn, the Negro Commissioner, and myself, though of course there were hundreds of colored people in the audience. When I took my place on the platform the colored portion of the audience cheered vigorously, and there were faint cheers from some of the white people. Ex-Governor Bullock, of Atlanta, presided at the opening exercises. The audience room, which was very large and well suited for public speaking, was packed with humanity from bottom to top, and thousands were on the outside who could not get in.