BEFORE going to Europe some events came into my life which were great
surprises to me. In fact, my whole life has largely been one of
surprises. I believe that any man's life will be filled with
constant, unexpected encouragements of this kind if he makes up his
mind to do his level best each day of his life — that is, tries to
make each day reach as nearly as possible the high-water mark of pure,
unselfish, useful living. I pity the man, black or white, who has
never experienced the joy and satisfaction that come to one by reason
of an effort to assist in making some one else more useful and more
happy.
Six months before he died, and nearly a year after he had been
stricken with paralysis, General Armstrong expressed a wish to visit
Tuskegee again before he passed away. Notwithstanding the fact that
he had lost the use of his limbs to such an extent that he was
practically helpless, his wish was gratified, and he was brought to
Tuskegee. The owners of the Tuskegee Railroad, white men living in
the town, offered to run a special train, without cost, out of the
main station — Chehaw, five miles away — to meet him. He arrived on
the school grounds about nine o'clock in the evening. Some one had
suggested that we give the General a "pine-knot torchlight reception."
This plan was carried out, and the moment that his carriage entered
the school grounds he began passing between two lines of lighted and
waving "fat pine" wood knots held by over a thousand students and
teachers. The whole thing was so novel and surprising that the
General was completely overcome with happiness. He remained a guest
in my home for nearly two months, and, although almost wholly without
the use of voice or limb, he spent nearly every hour in devising ways
and means to help the South. Time and time again he said to me,
during this visit, that it was not only the duty of the country to
assist in elevating the Negro of the South, but the poor white man as
well. At the end of his visit I resolved anew to devote myself more
earnestly than ever to the cause which was so near his heart. I said
that if a man in his condition was willing to think, work, and act, I
should not be wanting in furthering in every possible way the wish of
his heart.
The death of General Armstrong, a few weeks later, gave me the
privilege of getting acquainted with one of the finest, most
unselfish, and most attractive men that I have ever come in contact
with. I refer to the Rev. Dr. Hollis B. Frissell, now the Principal
of the Hampton Institute, and General Armstrong's successor. Under
the clear, strong, and almost perfect leadership of Dr. Frissell,
Hampton has had a career of prosperity and usefulness that is all that
the General could have wished for. It seems to be the constant effort
of Dr. Frissell to hide his own great personality behind that of
General Armstrong — to make himself of "no reputation" for the sake
of the cause.
More than once I have been asked what was the greatest surprise
that ever came to me. I have little hesitation in answering that
question. It was the following letter, which came to me one Sunday
morning when I was sitting on the veranda of my home at Tuskegee,
surrounded by my wife and three children: —