One day twelve years ago there arrived in Sayville, L. I., where I. T. & T.'s giant wireless masts rise out of a sea of scrub oak, a baldheaded, wizened little Negro with God on his mind. He opened a free employment agency, found many a job for black men and white. Two years later he bought a small frame house at No. 72 Macon St., took in the homeless, fed them, clothed them, black & white. His disciples increased, his house grew, followers came on foot, in limousines, by the busload. Sayville's Board...
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