Howard Thurman - With Head and Heart: The Autobiography of Howard Thurman

Copyright 1979 by Howard Thurman

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The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Thurman, Howard, 18991981
With head and heart.
(A Harvest book)
Includes index.
1. Thurman, Howard, 18991981
2. BaptistsClergyBiography.
3. ClergyUnited StatesBiography. I Title.
BX6495.T53A38 280.4 [B] 791848
ISBN 0-15-697648-X

eISBN 978-0-547-54678-0
v3.0219

To the stranger in the railroad station
in Daytona Beach who restored my
broken dream sixty-five years ago

Howard Thurmans childhood sanctuary, the old oak tree in the family backyard in Daytona, Florida

His grandmother, Nancy Ambrose, in 1932

His mother, Alice Thurman Sams

Howard Thurman with Miss Julia Green, his kindergarten teacher, at the celebration of Howard Thurman Day in Daytona Beach, 1963

The senior class at Morehouse College, 1923. Howard Thurman is in the next to the last row, second from left.

Ushers at Rankin Chapel, Howard University, 1934. From left to right are Walter Fisher, Granville Warner, Columbus Kelley, Samuel Brown, Alvin Wood, Howard Thurman, Leroy Weekes, Carlton Goodlett, and Harrison Hobson.

Howard and Sue Thurman in the early years when he taught at Howard University

The Thurmans in Indian attire, given them during a Pilgrimage of Friendship, which they were requested to wear on state occasions

In Bombay in 1936, the Thurmans with the Reverend Edward Carroll on a year-long Pilgrimage of Friendship to India, Burma, and Ceylon. The Rev. Mr. Carroll became the bishop of New England of the United Methodist Church in 1971.

Mahatma Gandhi bidding good-bye to Sue after the Thurmans met with him in India in 1936

A delegation from Fellowship Church attending the Fourth Plenary Session of UNESCO in Paris in 1949. Pictured from left to right in the front row are Corrinne Williams, Raymond Fong, Sue Bailey Thurman, Dr. Arnold Nakajima, and Ruth Acty. In the second row: Lynn Buchanan, Emory Mellon, Carolyn Threlkeld, George Acevedo, Sylvia Nichols, and Joseph Van Pelt.

Howard Thurman at the pulpit of the Church of the Fellowship of All Peoples, the first fully integrated church in America

Eleanor Roosevelt and Coleman Jennings, a close family friend, at a testimonial dinner given for Dean and Mrs. Thurman in 1944 as they were leaving Howard University to establish the Fellowship Church

Rabbi Alvin Fine of Temple Emanu-El in San Francisco greeting Howard Thurman at the Tenth Anniversary Dinner of Fellowship Church, 1954

At the Vassar College Commencement exercises, 1954, Adlai Stevenson gave the Commencement Address and Howard Thurman, the Baccalaureate Address. Sarah Blanding, president of Vassar, is at left.

Liturgical dancers and choir of Marsh Chapel, Boston University, 1960

Dr. Harold Case, president of Boston University, and Mrs. Phyllis Case greet the Thurmans in 1958. Dr. Thurman served as dean of Marsh Chapel and professor at the Graduate School of Theology.

Among those who gathered at Boston University in 1959 to commemorate the 175th anniversary of the death of Phillis Wheatley, the first recognized black American poet, were, from left to right, Meta Warrick Fuller, sculptor; Howard Thurman; Sue Thurman; Beth Ballard, secretary of Marsh Chapel; Mrs. Roland Hayes; Roland Hayes, tenor; and Georgia Douglas Johnson, poet

Dedication of the Howard Thurman Listening Room, the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine, New York City, 1977. From left to right: Mrs. Amyas Ames, of the committee sponsoring the Listening Room; Yona Okoth, exiled bishop of Uganda; the Reverend Canon Mary Michael Simpson, Order of St. Helena; Dean James Parks Morton and the Reverend Canon Jonathan King, of St. John the Divine; and Howard Thurman.

The Thurmans on their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary in 1967

Grandchildren Emily and Anton Wong, and Suzanne Chiarenza

Howard Thurmans sister Madaline Thurman

The Thurmans daughters, Anne Spencer Thurman and Olive Thurman Wong

I must express deepest appreciation to a group of friends who built the first fires under this pot and waited patiently for it to boil. They requested anonymity and of course they shall have it, but let them read here that I shall never forget them.

To Tina Wall and Joyce Sloan, staff of the Howard Thurman Educational Trust, who serve as our right hand and our left, my special thanks. They and a very kind volunteer, Dorothy Eaton, gave time and overtime, including many weekends, to typing, retyping, and valiantly trying to locate lost pages which at times I declared I had never seen.

My loving thanks to my sister, Madaline Thurman, whose memory and mine did not always agree, and to my daughter Olive Thurman Wong, who read much of the manuscript, making constructive comments and suggestions.

A special expression of spontaneous gratitude to my wife, Sue Bailey Thurman, whose sympathetic and caring heart did not protect me from the kind of tender and direct criticism that could only come from one who has companioned my life for forty-seven years.

My publisher, William Jovanovich, became during the long months of this writing that rare combination of critic, editor, and friend. His friendship has undergirded this entire effort and remains a priceless gift.

To my daughter Anne Spencer Thurman, who as collaborator and sounding board gave three years of her life to this project, bringing to it her training and experience as a critic and editor. Without her work this book would not have been published.

This book spans nearly four generations. It peeks in and out of a lifetime of people and events, yet it is by no means the whole chronicle. I have tried here to describe highlights of a career because it is impossible to describe a life. It has been a long time in the makingbut now done I view it with some satisfaction and the hope that all who read it will share my journey with me.

H. T.

At the end of my first year at the Rochester Theological Seminary, I became assistant to the minister of the First Baptist Church of Roanoke, Virginia. I was to assume the duties as pastor during the month that the minister and his family were away on vacation. I would be on my own. On my first night alone in the parsonage, I was awakened by the telephone. The head nurse of the local Negro hospital asked, May I speak with Dr. James? I told her he was away. Dr. James is the hospital chaplain, she explained. There is a patient here who is dying. Hes asking for a minister. Are you a minister?

In one kaleidoscopic moment I was back again at an old crossroad. A decision of vocation was to be made here, and I felt again the ambivalence of my life and my calling. Finally, I answered. Yes, I am a minister.

Please hurry, she said, or youll be too late.

In a few minutes I was on my way, but in my excitement and confusion I forgot to take my Bible. At the hospital, the nurse took me immediately into a large ward. The dread curtain was around the bed. She pulled it aside and directed me to stand opposite her. The sick mans eyes were half closed, his mouth open, his breathing labored. The nurse leaned over and, calling him by name, said, The minister is here.