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Observations and Comments [excerpt]
THIS issue of M E,
is dedicated in part to the memory of Leon Czolgosz who, ten years
ago paid with his life for the daring shot of September 6th.
He was almost unknown. His martyrdom
during his incarceration, as well as his death in the electric chair
at Auburn prison, are devoid of the human sympathies and romantic
glamor that surround the graves of Ravachol, Vaillant, Henry, Angiolillo,
Bresci, and our Russian heroes.
Now, after a decade, as we approach
his sombre suffering figure, we see in him the nameless representative
of a nameless humanity—humanity enduring endlessly, hoping endlessly,
and forever thrust back into the abyss of poverty and despair.
Some day, this nameless mass will
awaken from its leaden sleep. Some day, its just indignation will
become strong enough to shake off the parasites and vampires that
had been thriving on its body. When that day comes, the image of
Leon Czolgosz will grow more dis- [226][227]
tinct, more real in its kinship with those for whom he died.
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