Antoine's Retirement
August 25, 2023
Saturday, December 2, 2023
I know how much you loved him, and would be the first to congratulate him.
I know how much you loved him, and would be the first to congratulate him.
Malcolm X's Eulogy with Hubert's name substituted, and also changed to Detroit instead of Harlem
May 24, 2020
Here—at this final hour, in this quiet place—Detroit (Harlem) has come to bid farewell to one of its brightest hopes—extinguished now, and gone from us forever. For Detroit (Harlem) is where he worked and where he struggled and fought—his home of homes, where his heart was, and where his people are—and it is, therefore, most fitting that we meet once again—in Detroit (Harlem)—to share these last moments with him.
For Detroit (Harlem) has ever been gracious to those who have loved her, have fought for her and have defended her honor even to the death. It is not in the memory of man that this beleaguered, unfortunate, but nonetheless proud community has found a braver, more gallant young champion than this Afro-American who lies before us—unconquered still.
I say the word again, as he would want me to: Afro-American—Afro-American Hubert (Malcolm), who was a master, was most meticulous in his use of words. Nobody knew better than he the power words have over minds of men.
Hubert (Malcolm) had stopped being a Negro years ago. It had become too small, too puny, too weak a word for him. Hubert (Malcolm) was bigger than that. Hubert (Malcolm) had become an Afro-American, and he wanted—so desperately—that we, that all his people, would become Afro-Americans, too.
There are those who will consider it their duty, as friends of the Negro people, to tell us to revile him, to flee, even from the presence of his memory, to save ourselves by writing him out of the history of our turbulent times.
Many will ask what Detroit ( Harlem) finds to honor in this stormy, controversial and bold young captain—and we will smile. Many will say turn away—away from this man; for he is not a man but a demon, a monster, a subverter and an enemy of the black man—and we will smile. They will say that he is of hate—a fanatic, a racist—who can only bring evil to the cause for which you struggle! And we will answer and say to them:
Did you ever talk to Brother Hubert (Malcolm)? Did you ever touch him or have him smile at you? Did you ever really listen to him? Did he ever do a mean thing? Was he ever himself associated with violence or any public disturbance? For if you did, you would know him. And if you knew him, you would know why we must honor him: Hubert (Malcolm) was our manhood, our living, black manhood!
This was his meaning to his people. And, in honoring him, we honor the best in ourselves. Last year, from Africa, he wrote these words to a friend: My journey, he says, is almost ended, and I have a much broader scope than when I started out, which I believe will add new life and dimension to our struggle for freedom and honor and dignity in the States.
I am writing these things so that you will know for a fact the tremendous sympathy and support we have among the African States for our human rights struggle. The main thing is that we keep a united front wherein our most valuable time and energy will not be wasted fighting each other.
However we may have differed with him—or with each other about him and his value as a man—let his going from us serve only to bring us together, now.
Consigning these mortal remains to earth, the common mother of all, secure in the knowledge that what we place in the ground is no more now a man—but a seed—which, after the winter of our discontent, will come forth again to meet us.
And we will know him then for what he was and is—a prince—our own black shining prince!—who didn't hesitate to die, because he loved us so.
(Eulogy given by Ossie Davis at Malcolm X's funeral)
Faith Temple Church of God In Christ, New York City - February 27, 1965
For Detroit (Harlem) has ever been gracious to those who have loved her, have fought for her and have defended her honor even to the death. It is not in the memory of man that this beleaguered, unfortunate, but nonetheless proud community has found a braver, more gallant young champion than this Afro-American who lies before us—unconquered still.
I say the word again, as he would want me to: Afro-American—Afro-American Hubert (Malcolm), who was a master, was most meticulous in his use of words. Nobody knew better than he the power words have over minds of men.
Hubert (Malcolm) had stopped being a Negro years ago. It had become too small, too puny, too weak a word for him. Hubert (Malcolm) was bigger than that. Hubert (Malcolm) had become an Afro-American, and he wanted—so desperately—that we, that all his people, would become Afro-Americans, too.
There are those who will consider it their duty, as friends of the Negro people, to tell us to revile him, to flee, even from the presence of his memory, to save ourselves by writing him out of the history of our turbulent times.
Many will ask what Detroit ( Harlem) finds to honor in this stormy, controversial and bold young captain—and we will smile. Many will say turn away—away from this man; for he is not a man but a demon, a monster, a subverter and an enemy of the black man—and we will smile. They will say that he is of hate—a fanatic, a racist—who can only bring evil to the cause for which you struggle! And we will answer and say to them:
Did you ever talk to Brother Hubert (Malcolm)? Did you ever touch him or have him smile at you? Did you ever really listen to him? Did he ever do a mean thing? Was he ever himself associated with violence or any public disturbance? For if you did, you would know him. And if you knew him, you would know why we must honor him: Hubert (Malcolm) was our manhood, our living, black manhood!
This was his meaning to his people. And, in honoring him, we honor the best in ourselves. Last year, from Africa, he wrote these words to a friend: My journey, he says, is almost ended, and I have a much broader scope than when I started out, which I believe will add new life and dimension to our struggle for freedom and honor and dignity in the States.
I am writing these things so that you will know for a fact the tremendous sympathy and support we have among the African States for our human rights struggle. The main thing is that we keep a united front wherein our most valuable time and energy will not be wasted fighting each other.
However we may have differed with him—or with each other about him and his value as a man—let his going from us serve only to bring us together, now.
Consigning these mortal remains to earth, the common mother of all, secure in the knowledge that what we place in the ground is no more now a man—but a seed—which, after the winter of our discontent, will come forth again to meet us.
And we will know him then for what he was and is—a prince—our own black shining prince!—who didn't hesitate to die, because he loved us so.
(Eulogy given by Ossie Davis at Malcolm X's funeral)
Faith Temple Church of God In Christ, New York City - February 27, 1965
Taken from Hubert's Obituary in 1990
November 30, 2011
Hubert Earl Thomas was born to William Albert and Verdelle Thomas in Montgomery, Alabama on August 7, 1929.
He was baptized at an early age at the First Baptist Church in Montgomery Alabama, later converting to Catholicism where he was a member of the St. Bernard Parish in Detroit Michigan.
He attended Alabama State University before moving to Detroit in his late teens, and later became employed by the Hercules Drawn Steel Company in Livonia where he worked until his illness.
Hubert was a member of the Renaissance Lions Club where he was a faithful and loyal member for more than twelve years.
Hubert is survived by: his wife, Donna; his mother Verdelle Anthony, step-father James Anthony of Montgomery, Alabama; his father, William Albert Sr., step-mother Elsie Thomas of Detroit; three brothers: William Albert, Jr., of Ecorse Michigan, Cornelius and Jarome Thomas of Montgomery Alabama; seven children; Arquita, Hubert II, Irene, Lewynn, Denise, Ollie (Butch), and Dorian; nineteen grandchildren; one great granddaughter; two aunts, Elizabeth Anderson and Amerine Bailey; two uncles, Samuel Anderson and Herman Bailey; five sisters-in-law, four brothers-in-law; a mother-in-law, one daughter-in-law; one grandmother-in-law and a host of relatives and friends.
Entombment: Resurrection Mausoleum
Woodlawn Cemetery
19975 Woodward Avenue
Detroit, Michigan
"I am the resurrection, and the life; he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; and he who liveth and believeth in me shall never die." - St. John 11:25-26