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Abraham Lincoln

How I Became a Lawyer Without a Teacher or School I was born in 1809 in a log cabin in Kentucky and had less than a year of formal schooling. Books were rare, so I walked miles to borrow them and read by firelight whenever I could. I told myself, “I will prepare and some day my chance will come,” because learning was the only way forward. I read everything I could find, learning arithmetic, grammar, and history before I ever thought of law, and I tried to understand what I read as deeply as possible. When my mother died, my stepmother, Sarah Bush Lincoln, joined our family. She encouraged my reading, lent me books, and showed patience when others expected me to work the fields. She taught me that education was more than books; it was forming the mind and character. Her guidance gave me the confidence to pursue knowledge on my own and made me value persistence and curiosity. I taught myself law by studying Blackstone’s Commentaries and other legal manuals. I spent hours in courthouses in Springfield and New Salem, watching lawyers, listening to arguments, and learning from what I observed. I practiced drafting contracts and resolving disputes on my own. “I studied with an unassisted mind, with no teacher, in my leisure time,” I said later. By 1836, my study and observation prepared me to pass the bar and begin practicing law. Others saw something in me. Walt Whitman described me as “Gentle, plain, just and resolute,” while William Gladstone called me a man of “moral elevation most rare in a statesman.” Those words reflect how persistence, curiosity, and guidance from someone who believes in you can shape a life. “The things I learned were not in the schools. I had to find them myself and keep at it,” I said. From log cabin to law office, self-education, careful observation, and determination made my life possible. #History #USHistory #America #USA #Lincoln #Motivation #KnowledgeIsPower

Abraham Lincoln

The Summer of Fire: Witnessing the New York Draft Riots- Historically Accurate I remember the summer of 1863 as if it were yesterday. The city was tense before the lottery began, with the war raging and families struggling to survive. When the federal government announced the Enrollment Act, requiring men of fighting age to register for the draft, anger filled every street and tenement. Wealthier men could pay $300 or hire a substitute, while the working poor had no choice. Many whispered this was a “rich man’s war but a poor man’s fight,” and I felt that resentment in every glance. Every alley, every crowded tenement seemed charged with tension, and whispers of fear and anger traveled faster than any messenger. On July 11, the lottery began; by July 13, anger erupted. Crowds surged through the streets, overturning police wagons, smashing windows of draft offices, and storming homes. Fear and fury carried men to deeds they might never have imagined. The worst came as mobs turned on African Americans. I watched in horror as the Colored Orphan Asylum was set ablaze, the children escaping just in time. Fires burned, cries rang out, and smoke filled the streets. Looting spread across neighborhoods, and the sound of breaking glass and shouting haunted the city for days; the chaos seemed endless, as if the city itself trembled under the weight of its anger. By July 16, federal troops from Gettysburg arrived, and the rioters dispersed, leaving behind bodies, rubble, and shattered lives. At least 119 were dead, countless wounded, and millions in damage. I saw fear in our eyes and in my own. Yet, even amidst destruction, the city endured. We had faced anger, sorrow, and violence, and we would rebuild. The draft riots revealed both our failings and our resilience. The city had been tested, and though we trembled and mourned, we had survived. We had learned that fear and courage often walk together, and that the Union, like the city, could endure. #History #USHistory #USA

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