His father died when he was only 12, and then it was him, his mother and eight brothers and sisters. "I was arrogant. I hated what the white was doing to us, to my mother whom I loved. I grew up close to murder and oppression."

Later on, "school softened me, tamed me, taught me how to be a gentleman -- and that's useful."

Palmer does not regret his hatred because he feels the white man deserves it. It is something he thinks young Negroes must live with if they are ever going to reach manhood and be of any use to their community.

"It takes a man to pursue truth," he says, "to purge his conscience even if he gets a bullet in the head."

Although the possibility of violence is very real for Palmer, he also believes that the black man is "naturally non-violent," and that Negroes as a group will strike out only to defend themselves.

He knows what response he can expect from the whites should any violence threaten. Shortly after midnight on August 13, twenty Philadelphia policemen raided the Freedom Library, looking for dynamite. Some 200 policemen were stationed nearby as riot deterrent. All that was found, however, was literature and posters, some of which the police took with them.

In all, four buildings were raided that night and 1,000 policemen mobilized. Acting Police Commissioner Frank Rizzo said he was acting on a tip from an informer who had brought in some sticks of dynamite himself. But the night's haul was only two-and-a-half sticks, found under a couch. Later, police dug up some blasting caps in a North Philadelphia backyard and arrested a national Student Non-Violent Co-Ordinating Committee board member, a 19-year-old member of SNCC and a professional blaster.

The Police Department, which had, after all, assigned 400 men per stick of dynamite, was probably a little embarrassed by the outcome of the raids, but that did not match SNCC's embarrassment at the publicity. James Forman, SNCC national director, came into town immediately. He charged -- accurately -- that the police had, without evidence, given the impression that the dynamite plot was a SNCC conspiracy. Forman also charged -- perhaps less accurately -- that Rizzo had planted the dynamite himself.

Palmer said he felt that the raids were a good thing because they helped to solidify the black community. His only evidence was a few ads in the Negro newspaper and a few meetings. But Stokely Carmichael, national chairman of SNCC, was equally confident. "Next time racist Rizzo brings his troops into our neighborhood," Carmichael said, "he'll have to answer to all of us."

Even if black solidarity in facing the police could be achieved, it would still leave Palmer with a much more pressing problem: the need to fund Negro radical programs without white money.

The problem is twofold: black radical ideologues are having more trouble than other civil rights leaders attracting white money and even more trouble justifying taking it.

"We could go to the federal government and get money, couldn't we?" asked Palmer. "But what would that be? That would be more white paternalism. And suppose we get a big foundation grant and they suddenly decide they don't like our ideology. They can say 'we'll take back our money,' then what happens to our programs?"

Money No Problem

But maybe, Palmer seemed on the verge of saying, money isn't much of a problem right now. "A little dirty house on South street with the furniture cleaned up, could satisfy a lot of people," he said at one point. If he is right, poverty would not have to be a major source of Negro shame -- and black pride could be achieved before black affluence.

Yet Palmer mentioned that, if large sums are needed, "even the poorest have some financial resources" they might be willing to contribute. He talked wistfully about seeking money from the Negro middle class and accepting limited white contributions.