A Letter from Miss Harriet Tubman, Kansas, 1954:
No, I am not THAT Harriet Tubman.
I am in my thirties now, a spinster, but as a white God-fearing woman I have no real rue or regrets. Maybe that I didn't run off with the Anders boy, but I believe I made God's Choice right proper. Plus he was a strawberry redhead, and that's that.
It must be tough to be a negro, though: you had everything you could have ever possibly wanted -- shelter, food, security, a purpose -- and you gave it all up for Freedom.
Freedom: it makes people rue things that they shouldn't even have'd to have ever even thinked about.
Sure, it's good to be Free, but Free and an empty stomach is just an empty stomach. mostly. I bet a negro's empty stomach isn't much different than the empty stomach of a white man, although maybe there's science there I don't know about.
In Heaven I won't need no Freedom, and wherever negroes end up I hope it's pretty much the same.
Maybe I should read some more books.
I am Laslo.