Martin L. King in jail in Birmingham Ala. April 16, 1963. ….Although growing up in Atlanta I knew very well who Martin was. But the first time I ever actually met him was at about this time. It was a Sunday. My mother used to drive us to the S.W. Atlanta church that we belonged to and it was about the the third or fourth time that when church was over she looked around and asked “Where is Timothy ?” I had met C. T Vivian and the Rev. Hosea Williams and I would sneak out of Mom’s church and go to meetings of various civil rights groups in Atlanta. C.T. Vivian often picked me up and made sure I got back home. One time when Rev. Vivian talked about the history of “Jim Crow” and had most of us stand up and talk about the first time our parents or some one else explained to us about segregation and why we had to take “colored” or “whites only” signs seriously. Or we could be in grave danger. I had just had my turn and MLK walked in …they paused for a minute while MLK told Rev, Vivian what seemed like a joke from his sermon that day. Martin sat down and actually listened to what the other kids had to say. He shook hands with all of us and repeated a phase I had actually first heard from Rev. Vivian. And heard it many times afterward. “What we are trying to do is make sure you are the last generation of Negro children who ever have to learn this”….I heard that many times after that. We said it in SNCC the organization I would become a part of a couple of years later a lot. What people today have to understand is that ending “jim crow” was a deadly …dangerous task. It had nothing to do with wanting to “go to school with white folks” or sit down on the toilet next to them. It was about the fact that just about every kid I knew had a parent who fought in WW II. Yet those veteran’s kids went to second class schools. Did not have the benefit of city services that they paid taxes for or in many places even though by Federal law we had the right to vote, that right was denied. They had to teach children to “not look white men in the face” and expect being treated like furniture was normal. And to expect nothing more of life. All this had to end. I don’t remember all of it. But these would become repeating themes. I was around Martin often as I moved through my teens. None of that is to say that I was his ”friend” but we saw the same people on a daily basis. These people were brave , resourceful and dedicated…not to themselves or to a degree not to each other…but to us. The people who came next. I’m in my seventies now. And on what we now call “MLK Day” and people like to spend that day doing things in the community . I remember not just Martin but ALL the people who put their own future aside so that you would have one where you could walk with pride and not have to hold your head down when any body walked up to you. Many died …many that were of Martin’s generation as well as people my age who served right along side me. Few of us are rich or famous today, and like me ..most of us don’t care much about those things, but we look at what our children can do and pass on the notion of making it even better for the next generation…Serve your community everyday, not just today….make a difference
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