CHAPTER SIXTEEN

OUT

In nineteen sixty-one, Mr. Muhammad's condition grew suddenly worse.
As he talked with me when I visited him, when he talked with anyone, he would unpredictably
begin coughing harder, and harder, until his body was wracked and jerking in agonies that were
painful to watch, and Mr. Muhammad would have to take to his bed.
We among Mr. Muhammad's officials, and his family, kept the situation to ourselves, while we
could. Few other Muslims became aware of Mr. Muhammad's condition until there were lastminute
cancellations of long-advertised personal appearances at some big Muslim rallies.
Muslims knew that only something really serious would ever have stopped the Messenger from
keeping his promise to be with them at their rallies. Their questions had to be answered, and the
news of our leader's illness swiftly spread through the Nation of Islam.
Anyone not a Muslim could not conceive what the possible loss of Mr.Muhammad would have
meant among his followers. To us, the Nation of Islam was Mr. Muhammad. What bonded us into
the best organization black Americans ever had was every Muslim's devout regard for Mr.
Muhammad as black America's moral, mental, and spiritual reformer.
Stated another way, we Muslims regarded ourselves as moral and mental and spiritual examples
for other black Americans, because we followed the personal example of Mr. Muhammad. Black
communities discussed with respect how Muslims were suspended if they lied, gambled, cheated,
or smoked. For moral crimes, such as fornication or adultery, Mr. Muhammad personally would
mete out sentences of from one to five years of "isolation," if not complete expulsion from the
Nation. And Mr. Muhammad would punish his officials more readily than the newest convert in a
mosque. He said that any defecting official betrayed both himself and his position as a leader and
example for other Muslims. For every Muslim, in his rejection of immoral temptation, the beacon
was Mr. Muhammad. All Muslims felt as one that without his light, we would all be in darkness.
As I have related, doctors recommended a dry climate to ease Mr. Muhammad's condition.
Quickly we found up for sale in Phoenix the home of the saxophone player, Louis Jordan. The
Nation's treasury purchased the home, and Mr. Muhammad soon moved there.
Only by being two people could I have worked harder in the service of the Nation of Islam. I had
every gratification that I wanted. I had helped bring about the progress and national impact such
that none could call us liars when we called Mr. Muhammad the most powerful black man in
America. I had helped Mr. Muhammad and his other ministers to revolutionize the American black
man's thinking, opening his eyes until he would never again look in the same fearful, worshipful
way at the white man. I had participated in spreading the truths that had done so much to help the
American black man rid himself ofthe mirage that the white race was made up of "superior"
beings. I had been a part of the tapping of something in the black secret soul.
If I harbored any personal disappointment whatsoever, it was that privately I was convinced that
our Nation of Islam could be an even greater force in the American black man's overall struggle-if
we engaged in more action. By that, I mean I thought privately that we should have amended,