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habit of taking long walks and thinking things through. It comes easier now. Joe is a union man now, and a family man too. He's got a wife and a kid who's just turned eighteen. It hasn't always been easy with them, but Joe has fought to keep things going, seeking a decent life; he's naturally a fighting man. The struggle has been toughest since 1929. On relief and off, fighting together with fellow workers, black and white, for jobs, better wages and hours, for social legislation. An outstanding member of his union, a leader of the Communist Party.

It is December, 1939-twenty-two years after the Armistice. Joe is strolling along the streets of Chicago's South Side. He's just come from a meeting-two hours discussing the war, making plans for a big South Side Peace Rally.

If you could speak to Joe now, as he walks along thinking about this war and what it means to black folks, it'd probably mean a lot to you. For Joe is quite a fellow now. He'd be able to tell you interesting things-things he's learned, and never forgot, out of his experiences as a soldier and as a Negro citizen of the U.S.A. during the last twenty-two years.

If you could walk up to Joe and say "Hello," and walk along at an easy pace talking about the war, his say-so would go something like this:

There's an awful lot of talk about democracy in the air these days. They say that this war in Europe is being fought for just that thing. The story goes that England and France are the champions of democracy, civilization and the rights of small nations. They say that our "Allies" of the last war are again fighting to "make the world safe for democracy," for the sanctity of the pledged word in international affairs. They have launched a holy crusade to wipe Hitler barbarism from the face of the earth.

That's how the story goes.

First I ought to tell you that if this thing they're trying to drag us into was really a fight for democracy they wouldn't

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have to call on me twice. I'm a fighting man-especially when it comes to democracy. My people-black folk-are that way. We've had to be. There's so much that's denied us-so much that's rightfully ours, by law or any other standard of justice.

In fact, it's a tradition with us. Our whole fight in this country has been a constant striving for the privileges of democracy. From Crispus Attucks, who died on the Boston Commons in '75 right down to the present day, we've fought to preserve the things America has stood for. And we've fought to gain for ourselves the same democratic rights others enjoy: the right to vote and participate in the affairs of government; the right to equal opportunities in all walks of life.

I'm proud that in 1812 colored folk were right there with "Old Hickory" Jackson at New Orleans. I'm proud of the two hundred thousand black men who took up arms in the Civil War to strike off their chains and save the Union. Sure, wherever the people have tried to throw off the shackles of bondage, the Negro has held out his hand. We came to the defense of our brothers in Ethiopia. We volunteered our lives for the cause of the Spanish Republic. And we've responded to China's call for help in her hour of need.

It's been natural for us to do these things. Natural, because they were so much in accord with our American dream of "life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness"-for ourselves and for all other people.

And so I'd fight again for democracy-you bet I would. Yes, I'd fight again-but it's got to be the real thing this time.
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We are fourteen million Negroes in America-nearly a tenth of the population. And still we're only second-class citizens. We don't enjoy even the meager rights extended to the rest of the people. In eleven Southern states we are denied the right to vote. Taxation without representation, the evil the revolutionists of 1776 fought to abolish, is still our lot. Our children are denied the right to equal opportunities in educa-