I Want To Hold A Series Of

Sit Down And Read. Educate Yourself For The Coming Conflicts.

I Asked A Man In Prison Once How He Happened To Be There And He Said He Had Stolen A Pair Of Shoes. I Told Him If He Had Stolen A Railroad He Would Be A United States Senator.

I Am Not Blind To The Shortcomings Of Our Own People. I Am Not Unaware That Leaders Betray, And Sell Out, And Play False. But This Knowledge Does Not Outweigh The Fact That My Class, The Working Class, Is Exploited, Driven, Fought Back With The Weapon Of Starvation, With Guns And With Venal Courts Whenever They Strike For Conditions More Human, More Civilized For Their Children, And For Their Children's Children.

Injustice Boils In Men's Hearts As Does Steel In Its Cauldron, Ready To Pour Forth, White Hot, In The Fullness Of Time.

I Nursed Men Back To Sanity Who Were Driven To Despair. I Solicited Clothes For The Ragged Children, For The Desperate Mothers. I Laid Out The Dead, The Martyrs Of The Strike.