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At one-hour intervals the night guards paced past every room. Each time I heard the approachingfootsteps, I jumped into bed and feigned sleep. And as soon as the guard passed, I got back out of bedonto the floor area of that light-glow, where I would read for another fifty-eight minutes-until theguard approached again. That went on until three or four every morning. Three or four hours of sleepa night was enough for me. Often in the years in the streets I had slept less than that.The teachings of Mr. Muhammad stressed how history had been "whitened"-when white men hadwritten history books, the black man simply had been left out. Mr. Muhammad couldn't have saidanything that would have struck me much harder. I had never forgotten how when my class, me andall of those whites, had studied seventh-grade United States history back in Mason, the history of theNegro had been covered in one paragraph, and the teacher had gotten a big laugh with his joke,"Negroes' feet are so big that when they walk, they leave a hole in the ground."This is one reason why Mr. Muhammad's teachings spread so swiftly all over the United States,among _all_ Negroes, whether or not they became followers of Mr. Muhammad. The teachings ringtrue-to every Negro. You can hardly show me a black adult in America-or a white one, for that matter-who knows from the history books anything like the truth about the black man's role. In my own case,once I heard of the "glorious history of the black man," I took special pains to hunt in the library forbooks that would inform me on details about black history.I can remember accurately the very first set of books that really impressed me. I have since bought thatset of books and have it at home for my children to read as they grow up. It's called _Wonders of the World_. It's full of pictures of archaeological finds, statues that depict, usually, non-European people.

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It was because of my letters that I happened to stumble upon starting to acquire some kind of ahomemade education.I became increasingly frustrated at not being able to express what I wanted to convey in letters that Iwrote, especially those to Mr. Elijah Muhammad. In the street, I had been the most articulate hustlerout there-I had commanded attention when I said something. But now, trying to write simple English,I not only wasn't articulate, I wasn't even functional. How would I sound writing in slang, the way Iwould say it, something such as, "Look, daddy, let me pull your coat about a cat, Elijah Muhammad-"Many who today hear me somewhere in person, or on television, or those who read something I'vesaid, will think I went to school far beyond the eighth grade. This impression is due entirely to myprison studies.It had really begun back in the Charlestown Prison, when Bimbi first made me feel envy of his stock ofknowledge. Bimbi had always taken charge of any conversation he was in, and I had tried to emulatehim. But every book I picked up had few sentences which didn't contain anywhere from one to nearlyall of the words that might as well have been in Chinese. When I just skipped those words, of course, Ireally ended up with little idea of what the book said. So I had come to the Norfolk Prison Colony stillgoing through only book-reading motions. Pretty soon, I would have quit even these motions, unless Ihad received the motivation that I did.I saw that the best thing I could do was get hold of a dictionary-to study, to learn some words. I waslucky enough to reason also that I should try to improve my penmanship. It was sad. I couldn't evenwrite in a straight line. It was both ideas together that moved me to request a dictionary along withsome tablets and pencils from the Norfolk Prison Colony school.I spent two days just riffling uncertainly through the dictionary's pages. I'd never realized so manywords existed! I didn't know _which_ words I needed to learn. Finally, just to start some kind of action, I began copying.I was so fascinated that I went on-I copied the dictionary's next page. And the same experience camewhen I studied that. With every succeeding page, I also learned of people and places and events fromhistory. Actually the dictionary is like a miniature encyclopedia. Finally the dictionary's A section hadfilled a whole tablet-and I went on into the B's. That was the way I started copying what eventuallybecame the entire dictionary. It went a lot faster after so much practice helped me to pick uphandwriting speed. Between what I wrote in my tablet, and writing letters, during the rest of my timein prison I would guess I wrote a million words.I suppose it was inevitable that as my word-base broadened, I could for the first time pick up a bookand read and now begin to understand what the book was saying. Anyone who has read a great dealcan imagine the new world that opened. Let me tell you something: from then until I left that prison,in every free moment I had, if I was not reading in the library, I was reading on my bunk. You couldn'thave gotten me out of books with a wedge. Between Mr. Muhammad's teachings, my correspondence,my visitors-usually Ella and Reginald-and my reading of books, months passed without my eventhinking about being imprisoned. In fact, up to then, I never had been so truly free in my life.The Norfolk Prison Colony's library was in the school building. A variety of classes was taught thereby instructors who came from such places as Harvard and Boston universities. The weekly debatesbetween inmate teams were also held in the school building. You would be astonished to know howworked up convict debaters and audiences would get over subjects like "Should Babies Be Fed Milk?"Available on the prison library's shelves were books on just about every general subject. Much of thebig private collection that Parkhurst had willed to the prison was still in crates and boxes in the backof the library-thousands of old books. Some of them looked ancient: covers faded, old-timeparchment-looking binding. Parkhurst, I've mentioned, seemed to have been principally interested inhistory and religion. He had the money and the special interest to have a lot of books that youwouldn't have in general circulation. Any college library would have been lucky to get that collection.