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The pistol they were looking for-which they never found, and for which they wouldn't issue a permit-was sewed up inside a pillow. My father's .22 rifle and his shotgun, though, were right out in the open; everyone had them for hunting birds and rabbits and other game.
This time, the get-out-of-town threats came from a local hate society called The Black Legion.
Marcus Garvey, that freedom, independence and self-respect could never be achieved by the Negro in America, and that therefore the Negro should leave America to the white man and return to his African land of origin
my father had decided to risk and dedicate hi& life to help dissemi- nate this philosophy among his people
he had seen four of his six brothers die by violence, three of them killed by white men, including one by lynching.
of the remaining thret, including himself, only one, my Uncle Jim, would die in bed, of natural causes.
North- ern white police were later to shoot my Uncle Oscar. And my father was finally himself to die by the white man's hands.
It has always been my belief that I, too, will die by violence.
I have done all that I can to be prepared
my oldest full brother, Wilfred, was born
They moved from Philadelphia to Omaha, where Hilda and then Phil- bert were born
I was next in line. My mother was twenty-eight when I was born on May 19, 1925, in an Omaha hospital.
Then we moved to Milwaukee, where Reginald was born. From infancy, he had some kind of hernia condition which was to handicap him phys- ically for the rest of his life
Louise Little, my mother
My father, the Reverend Earl Little, was a Baptist minister
a dedicated organizer for Marcus Aurelius Garvey's U.N.l.A. (Universal Negro Improvement Association).
who was born in Grenada
in the British West Indies, looked like a white woman.
It was, of course, because of him that I got my reddish-brown ''mariny'' color of skin, and my hair of the same color.
I was the lightest child in our family.
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