(9 of 9)
Last week, after vacation, Thurgood Marshall was back in Manhattan, dealing briskly with scores of tactical decisions in the desegregation fight. Across the land, he guided and coordinated the work of scores of lawyers in one of the biggest legal operations in U.S. history. He seemed fresh and rested, though the vacation, his first in eight years, had been a mockery.
Work caught up with him at Miami, and at the end of the job his nerve ends were raw. He was in a mood of acute awareness of how far he and his cause had come, and at the same time, he felt a strong sense of how hard and long was the road ahead. He did not want merely to win, but to win in the way that would cause least pain to Negro and white and reflect the most credit on the U.S. Constitution.
Stretched on the rack of one of the tensest and most exciting careers in the U.S. today, Thurgood Marshall in Miami said: "I'm gonna take a two-day vacation to rest from my vacation. I'm going to Havana. Never been there; hear they treat a man fine." The ghost of an anticipatory smile flitted over his face; then the pained look came back. "Don't know why I'm going to Havana," he said slowly. "Trouble is when I get there, you know who I'm gonna find there, too? "Me."