A boys' life of Booker T. Washington

by Walter Clinton Jackson

Washington had a keen sense of humor. This is the reason he was always so even-tempered. He kept perfect control of himself at all times, and it was largely his sense of humor that enabled him to do so. He saw the ridiculous side of things. He could tell perfectly side-splitting stories, particularly about his own people. These stories were always clean and without a sting, and always had some point to them. He was thoroughly good-natured, and every one in his presence felt refreshed and happy by reason of having come in contact with him.

He had a strong sense of justice. He believed the problems of the white race as well as those of the black race must be settled on a basis of justice, if they were ever to be settled right. The fact that he constantly spoke of justice and fair dealing toward the white race showed that there was no color boundary to this great attribute of his character. He was not quarrelsome; he did not hate; he did not lose his temper when he saw injustice being done to his people. However, he never did condone such injustice; he was ever ready to denounce it. He labored unceasingly to bring about a mutual understanding between the two races and to inspire in his own race those principles which he saw with such clear vision. He said that the negro ought to put more time on improving his opportunities than crying over his disadvantages. He believed that the first and most important thing was for the negro to become well prepared for the ballot, and by and by he would get it. He argued that the negroes should work and save and study and conduct themselves in the proper way, and that in course of time recognition would come to them. Sooner or later, the right, the just thing, would prevail, and the important thing for the negro was to know he was right.

Booker T. Washington and His Grandchildren

Washington had the courage to denounce those members of his own race, particularly some of the ministers, who did not live as they should. This was a bold thing to do and brought much criticism upon him, but, in the long run, it was a great service to his race and to the whole country.

In spite of the fact that Washington was a man of unusual health and strength, his hard work and the great responsibilities he carried began finally to tell on him. But he kept on. He had wonderful will power, and he would drive himself to his work from day to day, when other men would have taken to their beds. He could not admit to himself that he was losing strength. Right up to the last, he did an enormous amount of work.

In the early fall of 1915, he went North to deliver an address before the National Council of Congregational Churches, held in New Haven, Connecticut. Although he had not been entirely well for some time, no one had any idea that he was seriously ill. Shortly after the address in New Haven, he collapsed. His friends in New York City had him removed to St. Luke’s Hospital there.

The physicians made a careful examination and frankly told him that he was critically ill and could live but a few hours. When he learned that he must die, he insisted on starting for home at once. The doctors told him that he could not go; that it would mean certain death; that he could not live through the journey. His reply was: “I was born in the South, I have lived and labored in the South, and I expect to die and be buried in the South.”

Arrangements were hurriedly made for the journey to Tuskegee. No one believed that he would reach there alive. One of the doctors had said that it was “uncanny to see a man up and about who ought, by all the laws of nature, to be dead.” When they reached the railway station in New York a rolling chair had been provided for Washington, but he refused to use it and walked to the train leaning on the arms of his friends.

As the train pulled out and headed for his beloved Southland, his spirits began to revive, and he seemed much stronger. He was determined to beat death in this race. As they journeyed on, he would ask the names of the stations. When he was told that they were passing Greensboro, a triumphant look came into his eyes. Charlotte, Greenville, Atlanta—he was winning! Finally they came to Chehaw, the little station five miles from Tuskegee, the junction point of the railroad from Tuskegee to the main line.