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576 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1983
"They were sitting in a tree one day, and Bob started to talk about Christ. He said that Christ’s mission began at age thirty-three. “Me gwan die at t’irty-six,” he said quietly, “jus’ like Christ.” “Stop it, Bob!” said Dion, who had been his first buddy in Wilmington when he arrived from Kingston in 1966. “What are you talkin’ about? You got a good career, you makin’ good money. Why you want to die that young?”Catch a Fire talks about Marley's toe injury and collapse one day during a jog, which would ultimately lead to a grim cancer diagnosis for the young and now famous star.
“Next year 1978,” Bob continued, speaking somberly. “Me be t’irtyt’ree in February. From dat month, t’ings tek dere course from den.”
“Come on, Bob, knock it off,” said Ibis, and the moment passed. Both Dion and Ibis told Ciddy about it later. They were disturbed by this kind of talk, but they convinced themselves it was just a temporary fit of depression associated with the troublesome soccer injury..."
"...And now, in Zimbabwe, all his illusions were ebbing away. His ulcerated, nailless right toe ached horribly. He had repeatedly told the press that the bandages he wore concealed a soccer injury, but the throbbing pain was a constant reminder of what doctors had been telling him over the past two years: have the toe amputated or make his peace with life; if he wouldn’t undergo radical treatment for this cancer, he would fly away home to his heavenly reward in Zion a lot sooner than he had planned.Bob "Nesta" Marley. Date unkown:
“Rasta no abide amputation,” he had spat back at them. “I and I [me and my brethren] don’t allow a mon ta be dismantled. Jah, de living God, His Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie I, Ras Tafari, Conquering Lion of the Tribe of Judah, two hundred twenty-fifth ruler of the t’ree-t’ousand-year old Ethiopian empire, Lord of Lords, King of Kings, Heir to the Throne of Solomon, He will heal me wit’ de meditations of me ganja chalice, me cutchie [clay hookah pipe], or He will tek me as a son inta His Kingdom. No scalpel shall crease me flesh! Dem cyan’t kill Jah, cyan’t kill Rasta. Rastamon live out.”