The story of Frederick Douglass is a unique and very well know, and one that has helped change the course of history in the United States and also influenced other countries around the world. The fact that Douglass was born a slave and lived in Maryland most of his life is common knowledge. So is the fact that he, like millions of other slaves, he dealt with the horrors of slavery everyday, something so unimaginable, that it is impossible to truly understand the thoughts they had to live with.

If one were to read about Douglass through the eyes of a biographer, the next ten years of his life (generalized of course) were s

After about four or five months of living in New Bedford Douglass was introduced to a man that he would not meet for almost another two years. That man was the editor for The Liberator, William Lloyd Garrison, and after Douglass' first issue he was mesmerized by his words because they were, "few, full of holy fire, and straight to the point." Douglass described the paper by saying that "it detested slavery, exposed hypocrisy, and wickedness in high places...demanded the emancipation of my race." The paper opened Douglass' eyes to movement that W.L. Garrison was deeply involved in, and it opened his heart to allow the heat of passion for this fight to burn.

A couple of days went by and the Douglass' had settled into their new surroundings, he went out in search for a job. What he say when he got down to the wharves amazed him. "The sight of the broad brim and the plain, Quaker dress, which met me at every turn, greatly increased my sense of freedom and security. I am among the Quakers," thought Douglass, "and am safe." Douglass remembered the way Auld had brought him up to be a hard worker, and remembering how other plantation owners went about doing their work, and when he notice how smoothly the wharves in New Bedford ran, he could believe that it ran so smoothly and so much work was getting done. And the people doing the work weren't even forced to do it. "On the wharves, I saw industry without bustle, labor without noise, and heavy toil without the whip. There was no loud singing, as in southern ports, where ships are loading or unloading--no loud cursing or swearing--but everything went on as smoothly as the works of a well adjusted machine." Douglass wondered how this system of labor was better than the one that he had been forced into as a slave. He soon realized why it worked so well when found working for himself and his family, not his master, so gratifying. He was willing "to do anything which came to hand in the way of turning an honest penny; sawed wood--dug cellars--shoveled coal--swept chimneys with Uncle Lucas Debuty--rolled oil casks on the wharves-helped to load and unload vessels--worked in Ricketson's candle works-- in Richmond's brass foundry, and elsewhere; and thus supported myself and family for three years." This self-motivated hard work paid off because the first winter that the Douglass' experienced in New Bedford was one of the worst that the town has every seen. "But even during that winter we probably suffered less than many who had been free all their lives." In a way Douglass had an advantage over the people of New Bedford that have been their entire life, because of the amount of arduous work that he did without reward as a slave made these random jobs he did in support of his family seem futile.

On January 1st, 1846, Douglass wrote Garrison again. This letter was not much different from the ones before. Except this one shed light on some of the mixed feelings he was having during his stay so far. For a brief instant in the letter Douglass describes that he misses America, and the beauty that her shores hold. "In thinking of America, I sometimes find myself admiring her bright blue sky, her grand old woods, her fertile fields, her beautiful rivers, her mighty lakes, and star-crowned mountains. But my rapture is soon checked, my joy is soon turned to mourning. When I remember that all is cursed with the infernal spirit of slaveholding, robbery, and wrong; when I remember that with the waters of her noblest rivers, the tears of my brethren are borne to the ocean, disregarded and forgotten, and that her most fertile fields drink daily of the warm blood of my outraged sisters; I am filled with unutterable loathing, and led to reproach myself that anything could fall from my lips in praise of such a land. America will not allow her children to love her." The internal need to have a country to love and call home is deeply rooted in Douglass' needs, but the reoccurring

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Approximate Word count = 4498
Approximate Pages = 18 (250 words per page double spaced)