Up from Slavery: An AutobiographyWashington, Booker T.
History
Up from Slavery: An Autobiography
Washington, Booker T.
African Americans -- Biography; Educators -- United States -- Biography; Tuskegee Institute; Washington, Booker T., 1856-1915
At the end of my second year at Hampton, by the help of some money sent
me by my mother and brother John, supplemented by a small gift from one
of the teachers at Hampton, I was enabled to return to my home in
Malden, West Virginia, to spend my vacation. When I reached home I
found that the salt-furnaces were not running, and that the coal-mine
was not being operated on account of the miners being out on “strike.”
This was something which, it seemed, usually occurred whenever the men
got two or three months ahead in their savings. During the strike, of
course, they spent all that they had saved, and would often return to
work in debt at the same wages, or would move to another mine at
considerable expense. In either case, my observations convinced me that
the miners were worse off at the end of the strike. Before the days of
strikes in that section of the country, I knew miners who had
considerable money in the bank, but as soon as the professional labour
agitators got control, the savings of even the more thrifty ones began
disappearing.
My mother and the other members of my family were, of course, much
rejoiced to see me and to note the improvement that I had made during
my two years’ absence. The rejoicing on the part of all classes of the
coloured people, and especially the older ones, over my return, was
almost pathetic. I had to pay a visit to each family and take a meal
with each, and at each place tell the story of my experiences at
Hampton. In addition to this I had to speak before the church and
Sunday-school, and at various other places. The thing that I was most
in search of, though, work, I could not find. There was no work on
account of the strike. I spent nearly the whole of the first month of
my vacation in an effort to find something to do by which I could earn
money to pay my way back to Hampton and save a little money to use
after reaching there.
Toward the end of the first month, I went to a place a considerable
distance from my home, to try to find employment. I did not succeed,
and it was night before I got started on my return. When I had gotten
within a mile or so of my home I was so completely tired out that I
could not walk any farther, and I went into an old, abandoned house to
spend the remainder of the night. About three o’clock in the morning my
brother John found me asleep in this house, and broke to me, as gently
as he could, the sad news that our dear mother had died during the
night.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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