EMORY UNIVERSITY LIGHT AHEAD FOR THE NEGRO LIGHT AHEAD FOR THE NEGRO BY E. A JOHNSON AUTHOR OF The School History of the Negro Race Colored Soldiers in the Spanish American War The Negro Almanac THE GRAFTON PRESS NEW YORK Copyright 1904 by E. A. JOHNSON. PREFACE THE author dedicates this work to the thou¬ sands of sympathetic and well wishing friends of the Negro race. He is trying to show how the Negro problem can be solved in peace and good will rather than by brutality. His idea is that the Golden Rule furnishes the only solution. He believes that at the bottom of southern society there is a vein of sympathy and helpful¬ ness for the Negro and that this feeling should be cultivated and nourished that it may grow stronger and finally supplant harsher sentiments. There are two factions striving for the mastery of the south to-day, one seeking political power on the idea that Negro manhood is to be crushed and serfdom established, and the other willing that the Negro should have a freeman's chance and work out his destiny as best he can with the powers God has given him. This faction is ready to give its sympathy and help, and it is the efforts of this v vi Preface class that the author desires to endorse and en¬ courage. The story weaved into the work is subordinate to the discussion of facts, and not paramount; it is intended to be mild, thus putting it in keeping with the character of the heroine whose deeds it portrays; and should the day ever come when America can arise to the height of adopting and following her sentiments, it will then indeed be the " Sweet land of liberty," for the black as well as the white man. E. A. Johnson. CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. THE LOST AIRSHIP—UNCONSCIOUSNESS, . 1 II. TO EARTH AGAIN—ONE HUNDRED YEARS LATER, ......... 6 III. AT THE PUBLIC LIBRARY WITH IRENE, . 13 IV. NOW AND THEN, 21 Y. A VISIT TO PUBLIC BUILDINGS, ... 99 VI. A RIDE WITH IRENE, 107 VII. DR. NEWELL AND WORK OF THE YOUNG LA¬ DIES' GUILD, Ill VIII. WITH IRENE AGAIN, 116 IX. THE PRIZE ESSAY, 120 X. SAD NEWS FOR IRENE, 131 Light Ahead for the Negro CHAPTER I the lost airship unconsciousness FROM my youth up I had been impressed with the idea of working among the Ne¬ groes of the Southern states. My father was an abolitionist before the war and afterward an ardent supporter of missionary efforts in the South, and his children naturally imbibed his spirit of readiness and willingness at all times to assist the cause of the freedmen. I concluded in the early years of my young manhood that I could render the Negroes no greater service than by spending my life in their midst, helping to fit them for the new citizenship that had developed as a result of the war. My mind was made up throughout my college course at Yale ; and, while I did not disclose my purpose, I resolved to go South as soon as I was through college and commence my chosen life-work. In keeping with this design, I kept posted on every a 1 Light Ahead for the Negro phase of the so-called " Negro problem " ; I made it my constant study. When I had finished col¬ lege I made application to the Union Missionary Association for a position as teacher in one of their Negro schools in a town in Georgia, and after the usual preliminaries I received my certificate of appointment. It was June, 1906, the year that dirigible air¬ ships first came into actual use, after the innumer¬ able efforts of scores of inventors to solve final problems, which for a long time seemed insur¬ mountable. Up to this time the automobile— now relegated to commercial uses, or, like the bicycle, to the poorer classes—had been the favored toy of the rich, and it was thought that the now common one hundred and one hundred and fifty horse-power machines were something wonderful and that their speed—a snail's pace, compared with the airship—was terrific. It will be remem¬ bered that inside of a few months after the first really successful airships appeared a wealthy man in society could hardly have hoped to retain his standing in the community without owning one, or at least proving that he had placed an order for one with a fashionable foreign manufacturer, so great was the craze for them, and so widespread The Lost Airship—Unconsciousness 3 was the industry—thanks to the misfortune of the poor devil who solved the problem and neglected to protect his rights thoroughly. Through this fatal blunder on his part, their manufacture and their use became world-wide, almost at once, in spite of countless legal attempts to limit the pro¬ duction, in order to keep up the cost. A wealthy friend of mine had a ship of the finest Parisian make, the American machines still being unfashionable, in which we had often made trips together and which he ran himself. As I was ready to go to my field of labor, he invited me to go with him to spend from Saturday to Sun¬ day in the City of Mexico, which I had never seen, and I accepted. We started, as usual, from the new aerial pier at the foot of West Fifty-ninth Street, New York City, then one of the wonders of the world, about one o'clock, in the midst of a cloud of machines bound for country places in different parts of the United States and we were peacefully seated after dinner, enjoying the always exhilarating sen¬ sation of being suspended in space without sup¬ port—for my friend had drawn the covering from the floor of clear glass in the car, which was com¬ ing into use in some of the new machines—when 4 Light Ahead for the Negro there was a terrific report. The motor had ex¬ ploded ! We looked at each other in horror. This indeed was what made air-travelling far-and-away the most exciting of sports. Human beings had not yet come to regard with indifference accidents which occurred in mid-air. My friend picked his way through a tangled mass of machinery to the instruments. We were rising rapidly and the apparatus for opening the valve of the balloon was broken. Without say¬ ing a word, he started to climb up the tangle of wire ropes to the valve itself; a very dangerous proceeding, because many of the roj>es were loosened from their fastenings. We suddenly en¬ countered a current of air that changed our course directly east. (We had been steering south and had gone about six hundred miles.) It drew us up higher and higher. I glanced through the floor but the earth was almost indistinguishable, and was disappearing rapidly. There was absolutely nothing that I could do. I looked up again at my friend, who was clambering up rather clumsily, I remember thinking at the moment. The tangle of ropes and wires looked like a great grape vine. Just then the big ship gave a lurch. He slipped The Lost Airship—Unconsciousness 5 and pitched forward, holding on by one hand. Involuntarily, I closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them again, he was gone ! My feelings were indescribable. I commenced to lose consciousness, owing to the altitude and the ship was ascending more rapidly every mo¬ ment. Finally I became as one dead. CHAPTER II TO EARTH AGAIN ONE HUNDRED YEARS LATER ONE day an archaic-looking flying machine, a curiosity, settled from aerial heights on to the lawn of one Dr. Newell, of Phoenix, Georgia. When found I was unconscious and even after I had revived I could tell nothing of my where¬ abouts, as to whither I was going, or whence I had come ; I was simply there, " a stranger in a strange land," without being able to account for any¬ thing. I noticed however that the people were not those I had formerly left or that I expected to see. I was bewildered—my brain was in a whirl—I lapsed again into a trance-like state. When I regained my full consciousness I found myself comfortably ensconced in a bed in an airy room apparently in the home of some well-to-do person. The furniture and decorations in the 6 One Hundred Years Later 7 room were of a fashion I had never seen before, and the odd-looking books in the bookcase near the bed were written by authors whose names I did not know. I seemed to have awakened from a dream, a dream that had gone from me, but that had changed my life. Looking around in the room, I found that I was the only occupant. I resolved to get up and test the matter. I might still be dreaming. I arose, dressed myself—my suit case lay on a table, just as I had packed it—and hurriedly went downstairs, wondering if I were a somnambulist and thinking I had better be careful lest I fall and injure my¬ self. I heard voices and attempted to speak and found my voice unlike any of those I heard in the house. I was just passing out of the front door, intending to walk around on the large veranda that extended on both sides of the house, when I came face to face with a very attractive young lady who I subsequently learned was the niece of my host and an expert trained nurse. She had taken charge of me ever since my unexpected arrival on her uncle's lawn. She explained that she had been nursing me and seemed very much mortified that I should have come to consciousness at a moment when 8 Light Ahead for the Negro she was not present, and have gotten out of the room and downstairs before she knew it. I could see chagrin in her countenance and to reassure her I said, "You needn't worry about your bird's leaving the cage, he shall not fly away, for in the first place he is quite unable to, and in the sec¬ ond place why should he flee from congenial com¬ pany ? " "I am glad you are growing better," she said, " and I am sure we are all very much interested in your speedy recovery, Mr.— What shall I call you ? " she said hesitatingly. I attempted to tell her my name, but I could get no further than, " My name is—" I did not know my own name ! She saw my embarrassment and said, " 0, never mind the name, I '11 let you be my anonymous friend. Tell me where you got that very old fly¬ ing machine ? " Of course I knew, but I could not tell her. My memory on this point had failed me also. She then remarked further that papers found in my pocket indicated that a Mr. Gilbert Twitchell had been appointed to a position as teacher in a Mis¬ sionary School in the town of Ebenezer, Georgia, in the year 1906, and inquired if these " old One Hundred Years Later 9 papers" would help me in locating my friends. She left me for a moment and returned with sev¬ eral papers, a diary and a large envelope contain¬ ing a certificate of appointment to said school. She stated that inquiry had already been made and that " old records " showed that a person by the name of Twitchell had been appointed in 1906, according to the reading of the certificate, and that while en route to his prospective field of labor in an air-ship he was supposed to have come to an untimely death, as nothing had been seen or heard of him since. Further than that the official rec¬ ords did not go. " Now, we should be very glad to have you tell us how you came by that certificate," she sug¬ gested. I was aghast. I was afraid to talk to her or to look about me. And the more fully I came to myself the more I felt that I did not dare to ask a question. The shock of one answer might kill me. I summoned all my strength, and spoke hur¬ riedly, more to prevent her speaking again than to say anything. " Perhaps I can tell you something later on," I said hoarsely. " I find my memory quite cloudy, in fact, I seem to be dreaming." 10 Light Ahead for the Negro She saw my misery and suggested that I go into " the room used to cure nervousness" and that I remain as long as possible. I passed stu¬ pidly through the door she held open for me and had hardly sat down before I felt soothed. The only color visible was violet,—walls, ceiling, furni¬ ture, carpet, all violet of different shades. An artificial light of the same color filled the room. And the air !—What was there in it ? A desk was at the other end of the large apart¬ ment. As my eyes roved about the strange look¬ ing place I saw on it an ordinary calendar pad, the only thing in the room that closely resembled objects I had seen before. The moment that I realized what it was I felt as though I was about to have a nervous chill. I dared not look at it, even from that distance. But the delicious air, the strength-giving light revived me in spite of myself. For full five minutes I sat there, staring, before starting over to look at it; for though I knew -not who I was, and though I had passed through only two rooms of the house, and had met only one person, I had divined the truth a thousand times. As I slowly neared it I saw the day of the month, the twenty-fourth. Nearer and nearer I One Hundred Years Later 11 came, finally closing my eyes as the date of the year in the corner became almost legible—just as I had done in the car of the air-ship, that awful moment. I moved a little nearer. I could read it now! I opened my eyes and glanced, then wildly tore the pads apart, to see if they were all alike—and fell to the floor once more. It was the year two thousand and six, just one hundred years from the date of my appointment to the position of a teacher in the South ! In a short time I regained complete conscious¬ ness, and under the influence of that wonderful room became almost myself again. I learned that I had not really been left alone but had been ob¬ served, through a device for that purpose, by both the doctor and his niece, and on her return I re¬ lated my whole story to her as far as I could then remember it. The strangest and most unaccountable part was that though I had been away from the earth about one hundred years, yet, here I was back again still a young man, showing no traces of age and I had lived a hundred years. This was after¬ ward accounted for by the theory that at certain aerial heights the atmosphere is of such a char- 12 Light Ahead for the Negro acter that no physical changes take place in bodies permitted to enter it. The physical wants of my body seemed to have been suspended, and animation arrested until the zone of atmosphere immediately surrounding the earth was reached again, when gradually life and consciousness returned. I have no recollection of anything that tran¬ spired after I lost consciousness and the most I can say of it all is that the experience was that of one going to sleep at one end of his journey and waking up at his destination. CHAPTER III AT THE PUBLIC LIBRARY WITH IRENE THE next time I met my nurse was by chance. I saw her at the public library near Dr. Newell's house, where I often went to sit and think the first few days after my re¬ birth into the world. She had left the Newell residence on the night of the day she had put me in the violet room, being called to some special duty elsewhere. I approached her with a kindly salutation which she reciprocated in a manner indi¬ cating that she was pleased to meet me. In the meantime I had found out her name—Irene Davis —and had also found out that an elective course in a training school for scientific nursing was accord¬ ing to the custom of the times, which regarded such a course as indispensable to the education of a liberally trained young woman. Our conversation drifted along as to my per¬ sonal comforts until I told her that I had heard 13 14 Light Ahead for the Negro that I was to be called upon to deliver a written account of my recollections of the past, especially in reference to the Negro question. " I suppose Dr. Newell is at the bottom of that," she remarked, " he is so intensely interested in the Negro question that he would be the first one to make the suggestion. I really believe that he refused to allow you to be taken to the City Hos¬ pital when you were found on his lawn because he almost divined that you might have a message from another age for him on that subject. The city authorities yielded to his wishes and assigned me to assist in caring for you at his residence, in¬ stead of at, the hospital. " I found very little to do, however, but would like to recall to you the beneficial effects of the violet room, which I see had the desired results. It always does, and many people who can afford it, especially physicians, are now installing these rooms in their houses for the benefit of neurotic patients, on whom the violet rays of electricity, coupled with neurium, a newly discovered chemical preparation, similar to radium, has a most remark¬ able effect." I remarked that I had taken no medicine and really felt better than ever in either of my lives. At the Public Library with Irene 15 "Well," said she, laughing, "I trust you may be able to recall all about the past and give a most excellent account of it in your paper for the Bureau of Public Utility—and don't fail to send me a copy !" " Are you at all interested in the question," I asked. " All Southerners are interested in that question. I am a teacher in a Sunday School for Negro children and a member of a Young Ladies Guild which was organized expressly for reaching Negro children that may need help. We visit the families and talk with the parents, impress on them ideas of economy, direct them in caring for the sick, and instruct them in the most scientific methods of sanitation. I am really fond of these people and the happiest moments of my life are spent with them—they are of a differ¬ ent temperament from us, so mild and good na- tured,—so complacent and happy in their religious worship and their music is simply enchanting !— Don't you like to hear them sing, Mr. Twitch- ell ?" I remarked that I was very fond of their sing¬ ing, and that I had been delighted with a visit I had recently made to the Dvorak Conservatory, 16 Light Ahead for the Negro where the Negro's musical talent seemed to have been miraculously developed. I further remarked, to myself, " How congenial in tastes and sympathy we seem to be, and how beautiful you are ! " She moved me strangely as she stood there with her black hair, rosy cheeks, large good-natured black eyes, her Venus-like poise of neck and shoulders, and a mouth neither large nor small but full of expression, and show¬ ing a wealth of pearls when she laughed—and all this coupled with such noble aspirations, and such deep womanly sympathy. I said to her, " Miss Davis, I am certainly glad to learn that our sentiments on the Negro question coincide so thoroughly and if any encouragement were needed, I should certainly feel like offering it, as a stimulus in your efforts." "All humanity needs encouragement," she re¬ plied, " and I am human; and so are these people around us who are of a different race. They need encouragement and in my humble way I hope to be of some service to them. Their chances have not been as favorable as ours, but they have been faithful and true with the talents they have." " So I understand you are assisting in this work At the Public Library with Irene 17 more from a sense of duty than as a diversion? " I observed. "Yes, that is true," she said, "but nevertheless I really get considerable recreation in it. I find these people worthy of assistance and competent to fill many places that they otherwise could not but for the help of our Guild." " So you have found that success does not al¬ ways come to the worthy," I suggested, " if those who are worthy have no outside influence ? I can remember people who worked hard all their lives for promotion and who not only did not get it, but often witnessed others less skilled and deserv¬ ing than themselves pushed forward ahead of them. This was especially true of the Negro race in my time. The Negroes were told that Negro ability would sell for as much in the market as white, but while this was encouraging in some respects and true in many cases, it could by no means be laid down as a rule." " I agree with you," she said, " in part; for the feeling no doubt prevails among some people that the lines of cleavage should move us naturally to do more for our own than for a different race, and that spirit occasionally crops out, but the spirit of helpfulness to Negroes has now become so B 18 Light Ahead for the Negro popular that it permeates all classes and there is practically no opposition to them." "You are a long way removed from the South of the past," said I, " where to have done such work as you are engaged in would have disgraced you, and have branded you for social ostracism." She replied that there was no criticism at all for engaging in such work but only for doing more for one race than another. " You Georgians had degenerated in my day," I remarked. " The Southern colonies under such men as Oglethorpe seemed to have higher ideals than had their descendants of later times. Ogle¬ thorpe was opposed to slavery and refused to al¬ low it in the Colony of Georgia while he was governor; he was also a friend to the Indians and to Whitfield in his benevolent schemes, but the Georgian of my day was a different character al¬ together from the Oglethorpe type. He justified slavery and burned Negroes at the stake, and the ' Cracker class' were a long ways removed from the Oglethorpe type of citizenship, both in ap¬ pearance and intelligence. I notice, too, Miss Davis, that you never use the words ' colored peo¬ ple ' but say ' Negro,' instead." " That is because these people themselves pre- At the Public Library with Irene 19 fer to be called Negroes. They are proud of the term Negro and feel that you are compromising if you refer to them as ' colored people.'" " That is quite a change, too," said I, " from the past; for in my time the race did not like the term Negro so well because it sounded so much like 4 nig¬ ger,' which was a term of derision. I notice that this term also has become obsolete with you—an¬ other sign of progress. In fact, I fear that the ideas I had in 1906, when I started on my trip to work as a missionary among the Negroes, would be laughed at now, so far have you progressed beyond me. Indeed, I am quite confused at times in trying to conform to my new conditions." At this juncture she suggested that she had al¬ most broken an engagement by chatting with me so long, and would have to hurry off to meet it. In taking her departure she remarked that per¬ haps it was worth while to break an engagement to talk with one who had had so unusual an expe¬ rience. " I may be quite an unusual character," said I, " but probably too ancient to be of interest to so modern a person as yourself." She did not reply to this, but left with a smile and a roguish twinkle in her eye. I found on inquiry at the library that Negroes 20 Light Ahead for the Negro in the South were now allowed the use of the books, and that they were encouraged to read by various prizes, offered especially for those who could give the best written analyses of certain books which were suggested by the library com¬ mittee. CHAPTER IV NOW AND THEN 1HAD scarcely recovered my equilibrium and become able to give an account of myself be¬ fore I was formally called on by the " Chief of the Bureau of Public Utility" of the country to make a statement about the Negro problem in my time, Dr. Newell having informed him that I was interested in that subject. Here follows the substance of what I wrote as I read it over to Dr. Newell before sending it: " Many changes considered well nigh impossible one hundred years ago have taken place in al¬ most all phases of the so-called Negro problem. One of the most noticeable instances to me is the absence of slurs at individual Negroes and at the race as a whole in your newspapers. Such headlines as