Viewing page 21 of 28
This transcription has been completed. Contact us with corrections.
248 THE CRISIS demand that More hold his peace. He cries: "No," and they leave him in anger. The play moves to its inevitable tragedy. The patriot who believes in "that great country which shall never take toll from the weakness of others," cries his message against insolent boasting and needless slaughter until the mob enters his house, and he is silenced. He dies for his ideal. M. W. O. THE BURDEN WHAT IT COSTS A NEGRO TO GET A PULLMAN BERTH FROM LOUISVILLE, KY., TO BIRMINGHAM, ALA. MR. SPINGARN and I were to speak in Louisville on Sunday July, 5. It was at a great sacrifice of home interests that I could be there at that time. But, notwithstanding that, I had to go at least twenty-four hours earlier because I could not get a berth than I should have had to go if I could have gotten a berth from Birmingham to Louisville. And so, going up, I left Birmingham on Friday and reached Nashville by night and stopped with friends in the city until Saturday. This made me lose twenty-four hours from very pressing work at home--the cost of discrimination. From Nashville I went to Louisville on Saturday and as soon as I reached Louisville I began to plan how I could get a berth back to Birmingham, leaving Louisville Sunday night after speaking Sunday afternoon. I knew that it would be dangerous for me to sit up all night going back after standing on my feet and lecturing for several hours in Louisville (two engagements Sunday, P.M.), and I knew, too, that I must be back home on Monday for business reasons. Sunday morning, as soon as I had eaten breakfast, I started on the quest for Pullman accommodations, which quest, as you will see, lasted until after 9:40 that night. First the secretary of the colored Y. M. C. A. and I went to the 10th St. Station and bought my railroad ticket. Then we went back to the Y. M. C. A. headquarters and summoned a messenger from the Western Union. We instructed the messenger to take my railway ticket to the station and purchase a Pullman ticket to Birmingham "for party," not giving name or color. The boy came back empty handed, saying that they did not sell Pullman tickets in the station any more and that they must be gotten by the "party" as the party got on the train. We suspected that perhaps the boy had struck the same agent who had just sold me the railway ticket. We were baffled but not yet beaten: we formed several new plans, one of which was to send a "white Negro" for the ticket; another was to send another messenger boy later in the evening when that agent was off duty; and another was to look up the assistant passenger agent of the L. & N. Railroad with whom the Y. M. C. A. secretary is acquainted. Meanwhile, I had missed morning church services and Sunday-school, in this Pullman ticket quest, and it was getting to be time for the afternoon mass meeting when Mr. Spingarn and I were to speak. I had spent all of Sunday morning with all the ingenuity I could summon, in efforts to cheat the prejudice of the white people out of the privilege of buying this plain necessity of travel. As I sat waiting my turn to speak and seeing Mr. Spingarn delivering his great anti-segregation address with the light of battle in his eyes, a new idea and inspiration came to me. I said, "I will get this true man's assistance in my present struggle for a sleeping-car berth." After meeting I laid the matter before him. We immediately set out for the station. Mr. Spingarn went in; I stepped outside on the corner, so as not to lend too much "color" to the situation. He came out with the same report, that Pullman tickets must be bought on the car from the Pullman conductor. We knew that if a black man went to buy a Pullman ticket on the train the stereotyped lie would be told him--"all space is taken"-- even though, as in my case, he had previously made a reservation by telephone. For early in the day in the day I had taken the precaution to order over the telephone "lower number six for William Pickens." They could not THE BURDEN 249 tell the color of my voice so they made the reservation quite politely. So it seemed that the battle was to be lost. Most men would have given up the flight at this stage but not Spingarn. He said, "I will go to my hotel and send through them for that ticket, and if they fail, look for me here at the depot twenty minutes before the train leaves." They failed. I learned this from the hotel over the telephone. At 9:20, therefore, with two other "conspirators," the Y.M.C.A. secretary and the colored pastor of the First Congregational Church, I entered the depot to await the appearance of our energetic confederate, Joel E. Spingarn. He was the most determined man I ever saw. With the fire of desperate battle on his countenance, he said, "There is just one way left, - the great American proxy; you have your suitcase, hand me your ticket and follow me." We passed the gateman, he said not a word to me: he saw me bearing a white man's burden as he thought. We went straight to the Pullman conductor: "Lower number six for William Pickens," said Spingarn. The conductor and porter politely admitted us, - heeding not me, the burden bearer. Inside my fellow conspirator handed me the tickets, chuckled a mixture of triumph and indignation and left the car. Certain passengers noticed and interpreted these last movements, as I observed. My berth was ready, so I retired. When the train was moving on the conductor, having been enlightened by these observers, pulled aside the curtains of my berth and with his diagram in his hand and insolence in his voice demanded: "What is your name?" "William Pickens," said I, placidly. "Well, you ain't the one that asked for this reservation at the door." "No," said I, "but I am the one for whom it was asked, and I am the one who made the reservation over the telephone." This silenced him. He accepted my two dollars and fifty cents; I drew my curtains to and slept until seven A.M., within one hour and a half of Birmingham. By my fellow passengers I was eyed in that strange mysterious way, peculiar to Americans, as if a Negro was the rarest sight on this continent, - but I was not accosted. I learned from the porter that they had gallantly informed the conductor of my intrusion, soon after Mr. Spingarn left, and that they had asked the porter how I could be put out. Being informed that I had the best of the game and that this was impracticable, they quieted down and discussed the "race question" in their various corners. The berth cost me: a messenger's fee, thirteen hours of work, worry and strategy, my attendance at morning church services, part of my dinner, part of my time for evening address, the assistance of at least six other persons, three trips to the station, and the regular fares. And yet they say that "Jim-Crowism" is no burden to the black man. WILLIAM PICKENS. OPERA "For the first time in the history of the French Opera House - and it dates back to 1859 - the fourth gallery was set aside for colored people at the matinee yesterday, with the announcement from Manager Affre and Secretary-Treasurer Durieu that in future Sunday matinees will be given with the 'pit' reserved for colored patrons. "And, incidentally, among the most appreciative listeners when 'Faust' was sung yesterday afternoon were the colored people in the fourth gallery. Quietly, but with eagerness and enjoyment manifest throughout the little group which extended across the first row, they listened to the performance and enjoyed it as perhaps none of the other opera lovers present." - New Orleans 'Picayune'. A LETTER. I SAW on the editorial page of your New Year 'CRISIS' a sketch of information concerning forgotten, neglected and concealed news. Between ten and eleven years of age my father was murdered by two white men on his way home. The law of the State of Alabama did not take any step concerning the matter. This left my mother with six of us boys and no support. Can there be anything done? One of the white men's name was Arthur Williams and the other name has not been learned yet, but I expect to learn it in a very short time. I am now 19 years of age and would like to hear from you as soon as possible."
Transcription Notes:
the note of [sentence continued on next page] was used at the end of page 248.
