A long time ago, I took a walk down a street in Harlem in New York City. I came upon a man who asked me for a dollar. He had asked a few other people before me, but they only passed him by without glancing his way. I stopped and handed the man some money. As I began to turn away, he reached out and shook my hand. He looked me in the eyes and said, "I will bless you." Now, I'm not saying that was God Himself. But how do we know that it wasn't someone working for him, walking around in disguise, just to see what we would do?
If you wonder what the difference between them and me is, I'll break the news: you never heard of them. Most of them ... can fight almost as good as I can. I'm just saying you never heard of them.
I didn't even need America, I was so popular outside the country, until the prosecutin' attorney came from Washington, and said, judge, we cannot let this man go to Japan and fight, because they are anti-American.Now, if I want to leave the country, I know how to leave. Tomorrow. Quick. Easy. If I really want to leave. That's not the intention. The intention is to stop me from makin' a livin'. To punish me.
I have learned to live my life one step, one breath, and one moment at a time, but it was a long road. I set out on a journey of love, seeking truth, peace and understanding. I am still learning.
On my twelfth birthday, I got a new bicycle as a present from my folks, and I rode it to a fair that was being held at the Columbia Gymnasium, and when I come out, my bike was gone. I was so mad I was crying, and a policeman, Joe Martin, come up and I told him I was going to whip whoever took my bike. He said I ought to take some boxing lessons to learn how to whip the thief better, and I did. That's when I started fighting.