The Detroit tribune. (Detroit, Mich.) 1935-1966, 1936-06-13

/ ed death and smiled him down with
a defiant air and a merry quip.
Jason now turned his back on those
memories Of boyish sufferings.
They paled into insignifiance when
he placed them beside the torment,
tie hurt disappointment of a man
thirty-eight.
Upon Nancy's lovely shoulders
he had draped the mantle of
mature love of a man, deep abid-
ing and reverent.
Where was the loyalty he had a
right to expect from one who had
promised to share his life? She had
bowed under the blows Of criticism
and joined with others in denounc-
ing him. She had called him selfish
and mercenary, when for years he
had freely given. He was termed
heartless and unfeeling in spite Of
years spent in human and benevo-
lent acts. 1t hurt. Something tender
and sweet he had cherished, with
cred and died. Love was not the
beautiful gracious thing of which
he had dreamed. 1t could be in
vective, Earring and demanding.
Jason strove TO shake off his
painful thoughts. He stroded up
and down the long room his hands
d Q p in his pockets, and
with sad brooding eyes, he
stopped before large picture. 1t
was a handsome portrait Of Fred
erick Douglass, one Of Americas
best known patriots. He who hat
ed and refused to recognize de-
feat; who had fought with his back
to the wall, grimly determined to
win in the name of his race. He
had made the white race conscious
of the fact that the Negro was a
human being, man, and not chat
tel, worthy to walk with the best OF
them.
Every boy has his ideal, some
hero to place the royal robes OF
worship. Frederick Douglass had
played this important part in ia
sons ife. From boyhood he had
loved the memory Of this great
man. Let them pay homage to
Thomas Jefferson and Andrew
Jackson, but he would press the
glorious memory Of a really great
man to his heart and strive to be
like him. Through school Jason
had carried a small picture OF
Douglass. 1t followed him through
college. When ne had built his
home, Douglass must occupy the
choice corner of his haven't was
the sanctuary within the sanctum.
To Douglass he brought his victor
les and defeats and laid them upon
the altar for his approval.
His precious memory was ia
sons counselor, guiding him In his
fights.
To Jason he seemed to live and
breathe. His kindly eyes would
wear smile when he won and a
look Of sadness in defeat.
Daily Jason talked TO the picture,
for he felt around him the kingly
presence. AS he stood in silence be-
fore the man who had made mil
lions applaude his fiery eloquence,
he spoke aloud as was his want
when faced with difficult problems.
well Douglass, am / wrong?
Should I lay down and play dead?"
Maybe Joe is useless but life can
be very sweet even to the lowly ami
mails" he slowly shook his head,
"Do they need me so much. Could
1 help tear down the wall, Doug
lass|
The wind seemed to moan and
whisper, hauntingy. Jason smiled,
a painful curving of his lips.
"And I should give it all up.
Turn my back to the blue rolling
sea, forget personal glory and plod
and dig for my race" Its hard
Douglass. Did you ever face 1t? Did
you try TO battle for your people
only to have them pay In coins
stepped criticism and spite? The
years have been long Douglass. I
haven't shirked. I've earned my
way; I've asked no quarter. I've
earned my reward Now that 1t is