securing fuel for the salt furnace. . . .

In those days, and later as a young man, I used to try to picture in my
imagination the feelings and ambitions of a white boy with absolutely
no limit placed upon his aspirations and activities. I used to envy
the white boy who had no obstacles placed in the way of his becoming a
congressman, governor, bishop, or President by reason of the accident
of his birth or race. I used to picture the way that I would act under
such circumstances; how I would begin at the bottom and keep rising
until I reached the highest round of success. . . .

One day while at work in the coal mine I happened to overhear two
miners talking about a great school for coloured people somewhere in
Virginia. This was the first time that I had ever heard anything about
any kind of school or college that was more pretentious than the little
coloured school in our town.

In the darkness of the mine I noiselessly crept as close as I could to
the two men who were talking. I heard one tell the other that not only
was the school established for the members of my race, but that
opportunities were provided by which poor but worthy students could
work out all or a part of the cost of board, and at the same time be
taught some trade or industry.

As they went on describing the school, it seemed to me that it must be
the greatest place on earth, and not even Heaven presented more
attractions for me at that time than did the Hampton Normal and
Agricultural Institute in Virginia, about which these men were talking.
I resolved at once to go to that school, although I had no idea where
it was, or how many miles away, or how I was going to reach it; I