The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored ManJohnson, James Weldon
General
The Autobiography of an Ex-Colored Man
Johnson, James Weldon
African American men -- Fiction; Racially mixed people -- Fiction
During the meal we found out from our hostess, who had two boys in
school, that Atlanta University opened on that very day. I had somehow
mixed my dates. My friend the porter suggested that I go out to the
University at once and offered to walk over and show me the way. We
had to walk because, although the University was not more than
twenty minutes' distance from the center of the city, there were no
street-cars running in that direction. My first sight of the School
grounds made me feel that I was not far from home; here the red hills
had been terraced and covered with green grass; clean gravel walks,
well shaded, led up to the buildings; indeed, it was a bit of New
England transplanted. At the gate my companion said he would bid me
good-by, because it was likely that he would not see me again before
his car went out. He told me that he would make two more trips to
Atlanta and that he would come out and see me; that after his second
trip he would leave the Pullman service for the winter and return
to school in Nashville. We shook hands, I thanked him for all his
kindness, and we said good-by.
I walked up to a group of students and made some inquiries. They
directed me to the president's office in the main building. The
president gave me a cordial welcome; it was more than cordial; he
talked to me, not as the official head of a college, but as though he
were adopting me into what was his large family, personally to look
after my general welfare as well as my education. He seemed especially
pleased with the fact that I had come to them all the way from the
North. He told me that I could have come to the school as soon as I
had reached the city and that I had better move my trunk out at once.
I gladly promised him that I would do so. He then called a boy
and directed him to take me to the matron, and to show me around
afterwards. I found the matron even more motherly than the president
was fatherly. She had me register, which was in effect to sign a
pledge to abstain from the use of intoxicating beverages, tobacco, and
profane language while I was a student in the school. This act caused
me no sacrifice, as, up to that time, I was free from all three
habits. The boy who was with me then showed me about the grounds. I
was especially interested in the industrial building.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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