In 1875, when I was seven, my grandmother Sally died. This caused us to have to move again. This time we shared a house on Railroad Street next to the station with the Millers. They were a poor white family, and Mrs. Miller was nearly insane.

This was a rough neighborhood. There were saloons, gambling houses other bad influences. I had to use my wits to survive living in this part of Great Barrington. It was now quite clear to me that education would be my salvation.

My mother had become remorseful and withdrawn after her breakup with my father. Not long after we moved in with the Millers, she suffered a stroke that paralyzed her left side, and she never fully recovered from it.