BOYHOOD DAYS
When the slaves were set free, one of the first things that many of them
did was to change their names. Most of the slaves had only one name. As
free people they felt that they should have the same sort of names as
other free people; so they began to add a last name, and usually an
initial. If a man had been called “Tom” all his life, he was now called
“Tom L. Johnson.” The “L” stood for nothing. It was simply a part of his
“entitles,” as Washington says. Another thing they did was to leave
their old home place. They could not realize that they were really free
unless they tested the matter by going away from the place of their
servitude.
Booker Washington’s stepfather had left Virginia during the war and had
gone to West Virginia. Just as soon as the war was over, he sent for his
wife and children to come to him in West Virginia.
He lived at Malden, five miles from Charleston, the capital of the
state. It was several hundred miles from the old home in Virginia, but
the family determined to go. They bundled up their goods and put them in
a cart, the children walking. They traveled the entire distance in this
way. They would stop by the roadside to do their cooking and to camp at
night.
One night they stopped near an empty cabin. They decided to spend the
night in the cabin. They went in and built a fire and spread a pallet on
the floor. Suddenly a big black snake rolled down out of the chimney and
on to the pallet. You can imagine that they did not care to stay longer
in that house. They got outside at once and made a camp.
After several weeks, they completed their journey, and the family
reached the town of Malden. Salt was mined there, and Booker’s
stepfather worked in the salt furnaces. Small as he was, Booker had to
begin this work too. It was very hard work, and it was terrible that
this child should be compelled to do it. But it was just like Booker to
turn the situation to an advantage. The first thing he ever did in the
way of reading was to learn the figure “18,” which was the number put on
the barrels of salt made by his father. Booker was anxious to learn to
read; but he had no one to teach him. His own mother could not even
teach him his letters. She bought him an old Webster’s “blue-back”
speller, and he began his first study in this book.
About this time a private school was established in the community.
Booker was greatly excited over this, for he had an overwhelming desire
to go to school. He was a good worker, however, and was earning money;
so his father said “no,” and he could not go. Booker was terribly
disappointed. He went on with his work with a heavy heart, but he never
missed a chance to urge his stepfather to let him go to school. Finally,
his father agreed to let him go for a part of the day, provided he would
get up early each morning and work until nine o’clock and then work two
hours after school was out.
It was a glorious day for him when he found himself going to school.
However, he soon encountered two great difficulties. One was that he did
not have a hat. He had never worn a hat or cap in his life. Since all
the other boys had them, he felt that he must have one. So he went home
and told his mother about the situation. She explained to him that she
had no money with which to buy a “store” hat, but she got two old pieces
of “homespun” or jeans, and sewed them together for a cap. The next day
Booker proudly walked to school with one difficulty solved.
Listen to his own story of his second difficulty: “My second difficulty
was with regard to my name, or rather a name. From the time I could
remember anything I had been called simply ‘Booker.’ Before going to
school it had never occurred to me that it was needful or appropriate to
have an additional name.
“When I heard the school roll called, I noticed that all the children
had at least two names, and some of them indulged in what seemed to me
the extravagance of having three. I was in deep perplexity, because I
knew that the teacher would demand of me at least two names, and I had
only one. By the time the occasion came for the enrolling of my name, an
idea occurred to me which I thought would make me equal to the
situation; and so, when the teacher asked me what my full name was, I
calmly told him ‘Booker Washington,’ as if I had been called by that
name all my life; and by that name I have since been known.
“Later in my life I found that my mother had given me the name of
‘Booker Taliaferro’ (pronounced Tol-li-ver) soon after I was born, but
in some way that part of my name seemed to disappear, and for a long
while was forgotten, but as soon as I found out about it, I revived it
and made my full name ‘Booker Taliaferro Washington.’ I think there are
not many men in our country who have had the privilege of naming
themselves in the way that I have.”[3]
Booker was not permitted to go to school very long. His stepfather put
him back to work but he went to school at night for a while. Here he
learned how valuable the nighttime was, and he afterwards used it a
great deal in teaching others.
Near Malden was a coal mine. This business became prosperous, and Booker
was sent to work in the coal mines. He hated this work worse than any he
ever did. The work was very dirty. It was pitch dark in the mines. It
was also very dangerous, for they used dynamite to blast out the coal.
His work was a mile from the entrance of the mine. Furthermore, there
were many big rats in the place. Because there were many large chambers
to the mine and he never could learn all of them, he often got lost.
Then his light would go out, and sometimes he would have to wait for
hours for some one to come to his aid. This was terrible work for a boy
only ten or twelve years of age.