In 1968 it would be three years until I was born. In 1968 my parents where married for less than a year and had just moved to Maryland. In 1968 it would be less than a year until they left the country and moved to England. In 1968, April 4 � Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot and killed in Memphis Tennessee.
Assassinated
��and the US exploded, no one knew what would happen� � so my mother tells me.
Every time I see a program on Dr. King I feel like I�m about to cry. That�s the only description
I will hear 30 year old recorded words � see graining images on the television
�I accept the Nobel Prize for Peace at a moment when twenty-two million Negroes of the United States of America are engaged in a creative battle to end the long night of racial injustice. I accept this award in behalf of a civil rights movement which is moving with determination and a majestic scorn for risk and danger to establish a reign of freedom and a rule of justice.
I am mindful that only yesterday in Birmingham, Alabama, our children, crying out for brotherhood, were answered with fire hoses, snarling dogs and even death. I am mindful that only yesterday in Philadelphia, Mississippi, young people seeing to secure the right to vote were brutalized and murdered. And only yesterday more than 40 houses of worship in the State of Mississippi alone were bombed or burned because they offered a sunctuary to those who would not accept segregation."
I think of what he helped to accomplish. He preached non violence � the teachings of Mohandas Karamchang Ghandi � and in many ways he won. Many of the goals of the civil rights movement where gained, rights � given, some wrongs � a very few wrongs � righted� and I wonder what this country would be like if he were alive.
I�ll listen to the speech delivered on the steps at the Lincoln Memorial:
"Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, that in spite of the difficulties and frustrations of the moment, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal."
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today."
I take a hurried but short breath � a tingle in the nose � I hold my head with fingertips and just sigh � eyes closed� sit in awe of the power of his voice, the skills of a minister teaching a faith against the status quo � the faith that if you resist long enough, if we �wear them down with our suffering� � then anything can be accomplished.
I will the words back� Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.�
and I want to cry. I think about what so many lost. I think about what I have no idea about how to fix. I do believe there are racial divides and types of transparent segregation still in this country � but I don�t know what to do. How to fix it. Even where to start. That it�s no longer only a black and white issue.
I hear his words and I want to cry. I think about the time I was digging through my attic as a teenager and I came across a pile of Life magazines. Sputnik, the first moon landing, John F. Kennedy�s assassination, that of Dr. Martin Luther King.
I showed them to my mother and she started to cry at the site of them. She said �they were great men, we�ll never really know everything we lost�
and I do get similar feelings about John F. Kennedy as Dr. King but for slightly different reasons
and John F. Kennedy was a great man in his own way - though far from perfect
and Dr. King was a greater man in many ways
and I know a great many people will never come close to understanding what we lost � I doubt I ever could
I�m not sure I understand yet all the reasons I want cry at the sound of a 30 year old voice - images 30 years old, but I am sure that I'm glad they ever lived.
