![]() ![]() What he didn’t know is that fight would take on global stakes. Now, he’d also have to fight for his life. A fellow Black American living in Russia described Robinson as “a quiet, scholarly bachelor.” All he wanted to do was work, make money to send his mother and prove he was great at what he did, regardless of his color. He was 5-foot-7, with a slight frame and a narrow chest absent of muscle. Robinson went back to his living quarters, lost for answers. ![]() Living in another country on the other side of the world, where he didn’t know the language or truly understand the culture, had seemed like a preferable option. ![]() He was Black, which meant he was treated as a second-class citizen in the States plus he was smart, and back home his talents would either be ignored or put him in danger. Even if the United States rebounded from the Great Depression - and that was still far from certain in 1930 - a return there would mean a return to oppression. It would take time to get used to the cold and gray land, but there was little to tempt him back to America. The ebb and flow of the water eased his mind. All Robinson did was work, eat, sleep and sit by the Volga River, the main artery of the USSR, on a muddy, brown beach covered in jagged rocks. ![]()
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