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<h2> Chapter IX. Anxious Days And Sleepless Nights </h2>
<p>The coming of Christmas, that first year of our residence in Alabama, gave
us an opportunity to get a farther insight into the real life of the
people. The first thing that reminded us that Christmas had arrived was
the "foreday" visits of scores of children rapping at our doors, asking
for "Chris'mus gifts! Chris'mus gifts!" Between the hours of two o'clock
and five o'clock in the morning I presume that we must have had a
half-hundred such calls. This custom prevails throughout this portion of
the South to-day.</p>
<p>During the days of slavery it was a custom quite generally observed
throughout all the Southern states to give the coloured people a week of
holiday at Christmas, or to allow the holiday to continue as long as the
"yule log" lasted. The male members of the race, and often the female
members, were expected to get drunk. We found that for a whole week the
coloured people in and around Tuskegee dropped work the day before
Christmas, and that it was difficult for any one to perform any service
from the time they stopped work until after the New Year. Persons who at
other times did not use strong drink thought it quite the proper thing to
indulge in it rather freely during the Christmas week. There was a
widespread hilarity, and a free use of guns, pistols, and gunpowder
generally. The sacredness of the season seemed to have been almost wholly
lost sight of.</p>
<p>During this first Christmas vacation I went some distance from the town to
visit the people on one of the large plantations. In their poverty and
ignorance it was pathetic to see their attempts to get joy out of the
season that in most parts of the country is so sacred and so dear to the
heart. In one cabin I notice that all that the five children had to remind
them of the coming of Christ was a single bunch of firecrackers, which
they had divided among them. In another cabin, where there were at least a
half-dozen persons, they had only ten cents' worth of ginger-cakes, which
had been bought in the store the day before. In another family they had
only a few pieces of sugarcane. In still another cabin I found nothing but
a new jug of cheap, mean whiskey, which the husband and wife were making
free use of, notwithstanding the fact that the husband was one of the
local ministers. In a few instances I found that the people had gotten
hold of some bright-coloured cards that had been designed for advertising
purposes, and were making the most of these. In other homes some member of
the family had bought a new pistol. In the majority of cases there was
nothing to be seen in the cabin to remind one of the coming of the
Saviour, except that the people had ceased work in the fields and were
lounging about their homes. At night, during Christmas week, they usually
had what they called a "frolic," in some cabin on the plantation. That
meant a kind of rough dance, where there was likely to be a good deal of
whiskey used, and where there might be some shooting or cutting with
razors.</p>
<p>While I was making this Christmas visit I met an old coloured man who was
one of the numerous local preachers, who tried to convince me, from the
experience Adam had in the Garden of Eden, that God had cursed all labour,
and that, therefore, it was a sin for any man to work. For that reason
this man sought to do as little work as possible. He seemed at that time
to be supremely happy, because he was living, as he expressed it, through
one week that was free from sin.</p>
<p>In the school we made a special effort to teach our students the meaning
of Christmas, and to give them lessons in its proper observance. In this
we have been successful to a degree that makes me feel safe in saying that
the season now has a new meaning, not only through all that immediate
region, but, in a measure, wherever our graduates have gone.</p>
<p>At the present time one of the most satisfactory features of the Christmas
and Thanksgiving season at Tuskegee is the unselfish and beautiful way in
which our graduates and students spend their time in administering to the
comfort and happiness of others, especially the unfortunate. Not long ago
some of our young men spent a holiday in rebuilding a cabin for a helpless
coloured women who was about seventy-five years old. At another time I
remember that I made it known in chapel, one night, that a very poor
student was suffering from cold, because he needed a coat. The next
morning two coats were sent to my office for him.</p>
<p>I have referred to the disposition on the part of the white people in the
town of Tuskegee and vicinity to help the school. From the first, I
resolved to make the school a real part of the community in which it was
located. I was determined that no one should have the feeling that it was
a foreign institution, dropped down in the midst of the people, for which
they had no responsibility and in which they had no interest. I noticed
that the very fact that they had been asking to contribute toward the
purchase of the land made them begin to feel as if it was going to be
their school, to a large degree. I noted that just in proportion as we
made the white people feel that the institution was a part of the life of
the community, and that, while we wanted to make friends in Boston, for
example, we also wanted to make white friends in Tuskegee, and that we
wanted to make the school of real service to all the people, their
attitude toward the school became favourable.</p>
<p>Perhaps I might add right here, what I hope to demonstrate later, that, so
far as I know, the Tuskegee school at the present time has no warmer and
more enthusiastic friends anywhere than it has among the white citizens of
Tuskegee and throughout the state of Alabama and the entire South. From
the first, I have advised our people in the South to make friends in every
straightforward, manly way with their next-door neighbour, whether he be a
black man or a white man. I have also advised them, where no principle is
at stake, to consult the interests of their local communities, and to
advise with their friends in regard to their voting.</p>
<p>For several months the work of securing the money with which to pay for
the farm went on without ceasing. At the end of three months enough was
secured to repay the loan of two hundred and fifty dollars to General
Marshall, and within two months more we had secured the entire five
hundred dollars and had received a deed of the one hundred acres of land.
This gave us a great deal of satisfaction. It was not only a source of
satisfaction to secure a permanent location for the school, but it was
equally satisfactory to know that the greater part of the money with which
it was paid for had been gotten from the white and coloured people in the
town of Tuskegee. The most of this money was obtained by holding festivals
and concerts, and from small individual donations.</p>
<p>Our next effort was in the direction of increasing the cultivation of the
land, so as to secure some return from it, and at the same time give the
students training in agriculture. All the industries at Tuskegee have been
started in natural and logical order, growing out of the needs of a
community settlement. We began with farming, because we wanted something
to eat.</p>
<p>Many of the students, also, were able to remain in school but a few weeks
at a time, because they had so little money with which to pay their board.
Thus another object which made it desirable to get an industrial system
started was in order to make it available as a means of helping the
students to earn money enough so that they might be able to remain in
school during the nine months' session of the school year.</p>
<p>The first animal that the school came into possession of was an old blind
horse given us by one of the white citizens of Tuskegee. Perhaps I may add
here that at the present time the school owns over two hundred horses,
colts, mules, cows, calves, and oxen, and about seven hundred hogs and
pigs, as well as a large number of sheep and goats.</p>
<p>The school was constantly growing in numbers, so much so that, after we
had got the farm paid for, the cultivation of the land begun, and the old
cabins which we had found on the place somewhat repaired, we turned our
attention toward providing a large, substantial building. After having
given a good deal of thought to the subject, we finally had the plans
drawn for a building that was estimated to cost about six thousand
dollars. This seemed to us a tremendous sum, but we knew that the school
must go backward or forward, and that our work would mean little unless we
could get hold of the students in their home life.</p>
<p>One incident which occurred about this time gave me a great deal of
satisfaction as well as surprise. When it became known in the town that we
were discussing the plans for a new, large building, a Southern white man
who was operating a sawmill not far from Tuskegee came to me and said that
he would gladly put all the lumber necessary to erect the building on the
grounds, with no other guarantee for payment than my word that it would be
paid for when we secured some money. I told the man frankly that at the
time we did not have in our hands one dollar of the money needed.
Notwithstanding this, he insisted on being allowed to put the lumber on
the grounds. After we had secured some portion of the money we permitted
him to do this.</p>
<p>Miss Davidson again began the work of securing in various ways small
contributions for the new building from the white and coloured people in
and near Tuskegee. I think I never saw a community of people so happy over
anything as were the coloured people over the prospect of this new
building. One day, when we were holding a meeting to secure funds for its
erection, an old, ante-bellum coloured man came a distance of twelve miles
and brought in his ox-cart a large hog. When the meeting was in progress,
he rose in the midst of the company and said that he had no money which he
could give, but he had raised two fine hogs, and that he had brought one
of them as a contribution toward the expenses of the building. He closed
his announcement by saying: "Any nigger that's got any love for his race,
or any respect for himself, will bring a hog to the next meeting." Quite a
number of men in the community also volunteered to give several days'
work, each, toward the erection of the building.</p>
<p>After we had secured all the help that we could in Tuskegee, Miss Davidson
decided to go North for the purpose of securing additional funds. For
weeks she visited individuals and spoke in churches and before Sunday
schools and other organizations. She found this work quite trying, and
often embarrassing. The school was not known, but she was not long in
winning her way into the confidence of the best people in the North.</p>
<p>The first gift from any Northern person was received from a New York lady
whom Miss Davidson met on the boat that was bringing her North. They fell
into a conversation, and the Northern lady became so much interested in
the effort being made at Tuskegee that before they parted Miss Davidson
was handed a check for fifty dollars. For some time before our marriage,
and also after it, Miss Davidson kept up the work of securing money in the
North and in the South by interesting people by personal visits and
through correspondence. At the same time she kept in close touch with the
work at Tuskegee, as lady principal and classroom teacher. In addition to
this, she worked among the older people in and near Tuskegee, and taught a
Sunday school class in the town. She was never very strong, but never
seemed happy unless she was giving all of her strength to the cause which
she loved. Often, at night, after spending the day in going from door to
door trying to interest persons in the work at Tuskegee, she would be so
exhausted that she could not undress herself. A lady upon whom she called,
in Boston, afterward told me that at one time when Miss Davidson called
her to see and send up her card the lady was detained a little before she
could see Miss Davidson, and when she entered the parlour she found Miss
Davidson so exhausted that she had fallen asleep.</p>
<p>While putting up our first building, which was named Porter Hall, after
Mr. A.H. Porter, of Brooklyn, N.Y., who gave a generous sum toward its
erection, the need for money became acute. I had given one of our
creditors a promise that upon a certain day he should be paid four hundred
dollars. On the morning of that day we did not have a dollar. The mail
arrived at the school at ten o'clock, and in this mail there was a check
sent by Miss Davidson for exactly four hundred dollars. I could relate
many instances of almost the same character. This four hundred dollars was
given by two ladies in Boston. Two years later, when the work at Tuskegee
had grown considerably, and when we were in the midst of a season when we
were so much in need of money that the future looked doubtful and gloomy,
the same two Boston ladies sent us six thousand dollars. Words cannot
describe our surprise, or the encouragement that the gift brought to us.
Perhaps I might add here that for fourteen years these same friends have
sent us six thousand dollars a year.</p>
<p>As soon as the plans were drawn for the new building, the students began
digging out the earth where the foundations were to be laid, working after
the regular classes were over. They had not fully outgrown the idea that
it was hardly the proper thing for them to use their hands, since they had
come there, as one of them expressed it, "to be educated, and not to
work." Gradually, though, I noted with satisfaction that a sentiment in
favour of work was gaining ground. After a few weeks of hard work the
foundations were ready, and a day was appointed for the laying of the
corner-stone.</p>
<p>When it is considered that the laying of this corner-stone took place in
the heart of the South, in the "Black Belt," in the centre of that part of
our country that was most devoted to slavery; that at that time slavery
had been abolished only about sixteen years; that only sixteen years
before no Negro could be taught from books without the teacher receiving
the condemnation of the law or of public sentiment—when all this is
considered, the scene that was witnessed on that spring day at Tuskegee
was a remarkable one. I believe there are few places in the world where it
could have taken place.</p>
<p>The principal address was delivered by the Hon. Waddy Thompson, the
Superintendent of Education for the county. About the corner-stone were
gathered the teachers, the students, their parents and friends, the county
officials—who were white—and all the leading white men in that
vicinity, together with many of the black men and women whom the same
white people but a few years before had held a title to as property. The
members of both races were anxious to exercise the privilege of placing
under the corner-stone some momento.</p>
<p>Before the building was completed we passed through some very trying
seasons. More than once our hearts were made to bleed, as it were, because
bills were falling due that we did not have the money to meet. Perhaps no
one who has not gone through the experience, month after month, of trying
to erect buildings and provide equipment for a school when no one knew
where the money was to come from, can properly appreciate the difficulties
under which we laboured. During the first years at Tuskegee I recall that
night after night I would roll and toss on my bed, without sleep, because
of the anxiety and uncertainty which we were in regarding money. I knew
that, in a large degree, we were trying an experiment—that of
testing whether or not it was possible for Negroes to build up and control
the affairs of a large education institution. I knew that if we failed it
would injure the whole race. I knew that the presumption was against us. I
knew that in the case of white people beginning such an enterprise it
would be taken for granted that they were going to succeed, but in our
case I felt that people would be surprised if we succeeded. All this made
a burden which pressed down on us, sometimes, it seemed, at the rate of a
thousand pounds to the square inch.</p>
<p>In all our difficulties and anxieties, however, I never went to a white or
a black person in the town of Tuskegee for any assistance that was in
their power to render, without being helped according to their means. More
than a dozen times, when bills figuring up into the hundreds of dollars
were falling due, I applied to the white men of Tuskegee for small loans,
often borrowing small amounts from as many as a half-dozen persons, to
meet our obligations. One thing I was determined to do from the first, and
that was to keep the credit of the school high; and this, I think I can
say without boasting, we have done all through these years.</p>
<p>I shall always remember a bit of advice given me by Mr. George W.
Campbell, the white man to whom I have referred to as the one who induced
General Armstrong to send me to Tuskegee. Soon after I entered upon the
work Mr. Campbell said to me, in his fatherly way: "Washington, always
remember that credit is capital."</p>
<p>At one time when we were in the greatest distress for money that we ever
experienced, I placed the situation frankly before General Armstrong.
Without hesitation he gave me his personal check for all the money which
he had saved for his own use. This was not the only time that General
Armstrong helped Tuskegee in this way. I do not think I have ever made
this fact public before.</p>
<p>During the summer of 1882, at the end of the first year's work of the
school, I was married to Miss Fannie N. Smith, of Malden, W. Va. We began
keeping house in Tuskegee early in the fall. This made a home for our
teachers, who now had been increase to four in number. My wife was also a
graduate of the Hampton Institute. After earnest and constant work in the
interests of the school, together with her housekeeping duties, my wife
passed away in May, 1884. One child, Portia M. Washington, was born during
our marriage.</p>
<p>From the first, my wife most earnestly devoted her thoughts and time to
the work of the school, and was completely one with me in every interest
and ambition. She passed away, however, before she had an opportunity of
seeing what the school was designed to be.</p>
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