Young Langston Hughes was a dreamer. He dreamed about heroes like Booker
T. Washington, who was black just like him. When he heard the
clackety-clack of train wheels, he dreamed about the places it had been.
But most of all, he dreamed about having a happy home. And so, one day,
he began turning those dreams into beautiful prose. As he did, he
discovered where his home really was