At that moment, Brother Robinson spoke for all of us, and I will forever carry in my heart the
sincerities of that ceremony. In particular, I will remember that as my five younger sisters and I
gathered onstage for Harry Belafonte's closing remarks, I remained full. As I listened to the final
notes sung by the Boys Choir of Harlem their song's message still lingered in my heart: "All black
boys are born of heroes."
I thought of my father and his parents, my mother and her parents, each family's respective
lineage and history of participation in social movements-Garvey on one side and Booker T.
Washington on the other. I thought of my sisters and I standing there, parentless, yet in constant
celebration of our parents' lives. We are blessed every day by the union and the victorious
sojourns that Malcolm X Shabazz and his beloved Betty Saunders Shabazz shared on this earth.
When I first realized that my mother wouldn't be here to witness her husband's likeness being
unveiled on a United States postal stamp, after participating in the initial discussions, a lonely tear
began to slip down my cheek. But then it dawned on me that she wasn't missing the occasion. In
fact, she had the best seat in the house. She is now where she longed to be. Beside her
husband. And together they are toasting our healthy continuance and productive lives.
As their eldest, I have pledged time and again to care for their daughters, my younger sisters, in
their memory, in their honor, and with their celestial guidance.
When the curtain descends on this current wave of attention and the thematic celebrations cool
down, my sisters and I will remain proud. Proud of a man and his wife, proud of a cause and a
heartbeat that was a metronome for us long before the crossover audience considered them
worthy of praise. We, the Shabazz daughters and our children, will forever be nurtured by our
legacy.
My inherent idealism yearns for the issuance of the commemorative stamp and the living
document of The Autobiography of Malcolm X to continue to bridge ignorance with insight, and
despondency with hope. It is essential for people to trust-even through long periods when dreams
may appear to have been deferred, delayed, and overshadowed-that there comes a time when
an unwavering will, a strong belief, and endless prayers bring great visions to realization.
The Autobiography of Malcolm X is evidence of one man's will and belief in prayer and
purpose. As you read my father's autobiography, whether for the first time or after a long absence,
it is my hope that you will come to know him foremost as a man. A man who lived to serve-initially
a specific people, then a nation, and eventually all people of the world. Some have said that my
father was ahead of his time, but the truth is he was on time and perhaps we were late. I trust that
through his words we may come to honor and respect all members of the human family as he did.
In closing, I offer you my father's own words: "One day, may we all meet together in the light of
understanding."
M. S. HANDLER
INTRODUCTION
The Sunday before he was to officially announce his rupture with ElijahMuhammad, Malcolm X
came to my home to discuss his plans and give me some necessary documentation.
Mrs. Handler had never met Malcolm before this fateful visit. She served us coffee and cakes
while Malcolm spoke in the courteous, gentle manner that was his in private. It was obvious to me
that Mrs. Handler was impressed by Malcolm. His personality filled our living room.
Malcolm's attitude was that of a man who had reached a crossroads in his life and was making a