Autobiography of Malcolm X
America's Casbah. Small's had been a part of all that. There, I heard the old-timers reminisce about all those great times. Ever ...
CHAPTER SIX DETROIT RED Every day, I would gamble all of my tips-as high as fifteen and twenty dollars-on the numbers, and dream ...
Recently, the last three numbers of the post office's new Zip Code for a postal district of Harlem hit, and one banker almost we ...
Most of these tough ones had worked as strongarm men for Dutch Schultz back when he muscled into the Harlem numbers industry aft ...
the white people swarmed up every night in the 1920's, but then during the Depression, he had contracted a bad case of arthritis ...
husbands and children right there in New York. I got my first schooling about the cesspool morals of the white man from the best ...
would meet some of the musicians who now would greet me like an old friend, "Hey, Red-who have we got here?" They would make a b ...
Once, when I called Sophia in Boston, she said she couldn't get away until the following weekend. She had just married some well ...
soldier had tried to tip me, I had waved it away, telling him I was just doing him a favor. They must have agreed that Joe Baker ...
free! Suddenly, now, I was the peer of the other young hustlers I had admired. It was at this time that I discovered the movies. ...
who I knew had stolen it somewhere. I carried it pressed under my belt right down the center of my back. Someone had told me tha ...
sticks, I was somebody from the Braddock Hotel. "My man!Daddy-o!" And I had Big Apple reefers. Nobody had ever heard of a travel ...
hustling life. I'd snatch out and read my Greetings aloud, to make certain they heard who I was, and when I'd report downtown. ( ...
bothered to ask why I was rejected. ...
CHAPTER SEVEN HUSTLER I can't remember all the hustles I had during the next two years in Harlem, after the abrupt end of my rid ...
cursed us and raced on. Again, it didn't cross the white men's minds that a trick like that might be pulled on them by Negroes. ...
where a dollar was collected at the door for "membership." Inside every after-hours spot, the smoke would hurt your eyes. Four w ...
walking down St. Nicholas Avenue; I saw all of these Negroes hollering and running north from 125th Street. Some of them were lo ...
Intuition told us that we had better lay low for a good while. The worst thing was that we'd been seen. The police in that nearb ...
Every weekend, I'd pay my bill-anywhere from fifty to even one hundred dollars, if I had really plunged on some hunch. And when, ...
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