Booker T. Washington, Builder o - African American History

Booker T. Washington, Builder of a Civilization. 189
24.03.2006
the other left off."
William Dean Howells in the North American Review said of it: ". . . What
strikes you first and last is his constant common sense. He has lived heroic
poetry, and he can, therefore, afford to talk simple prose. . . . The mild might of
his adroit, his subtle statesmanship (in the highest sense it is not less than
statesmanship, and involves a more Philippine problem in our midst), is the only
agency to which it can yield. . . ."
Among the congratulatory letters came one from Athens, Greece, signed "Bob
Burdette, Mrs. Burdette, and the children" which greatly amused and delighted
Mr. Washington. It reads, paraphrasing the passage in the book where he tells of
the insistent stranger who unerringly seeks him out when he tries to get a little
quiet and rest on a train, "'Is not this Booker T. Washington? We wish to
introduce ourselves.' You see, you can't escape it. We read that sentence, and
shouted with delight over it, in Damascus. I was going to write--'far-away
Damascus'
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--but no place is far away now. Damascus is very near to Tuskegee, in fact, only
six or seven thousand years older, and not more than fifty thousand years
behind. It must have had a good start, too, for Abraham went there or sent there
to get that wise and tactful 'steward of his house' Eliezir. But Damascus has
always remained in the same place, whereas Tuskegee has been marching on by
leaps and bounds. But you are a busy man--we have heard that, even in this
land. And I can see you reading this letter five lines at a time. No use sitting
next the window, piling your hand-baggage up in the seat, and pulling your hat
over your eyes, is there? No, for we come along just the same, sit on the arm of
the seat, touch your elbow, and --'Is not this Booker T. Washington?' We have
been travelling for a year. The Outlook has followed us week by week. And
week by week we have reached out to clasp your hand, and have knelt to thank
God for the story of your life--for its inspiration, its hopefulness, its trust, its
fidelity to duty and purpose. Such a wonderful story, told in the elegance of
simplicity that only a great heart can feel and write. We paused again and again
to say 'God bless him.' And now we send you our hand clasp and message--'God
bless him and all of his.' There, now! You may pile up your baggage a little
higher--pull your hat down over your eyes a little farther--and pretend to sleep a
little harder. We will leave you. But not in peace. More likely in pieces. For I
see other people, crowding in from the other car, with their glittering eyes