Fifty years later, the details of that day are hazy. The numbing shock is what I remember.
Today, Martin Luther King Jr. is an American hero – like Kennedy and Lincoln.
There’s a national holiday for him, though its establishment came neither easily nor quickly. Every school child knows who he is, or at least knows his name anyway. But tens of millions of Americans, two generations now, have no living memory of him as a person. I do.
It is impossible to describe what he meant to black Americans while he lived.
There were those who despised King and everything he stood for. One of them killed him.
The day after King was slain, I saw my friend Brent just before school. He said, “They killed our leader.” They. I understood what that meant. A lone gunman may have committed this act but really “they” did this — the haters. What had happened was an act of vengeance on a far larger scale than just one person committing a murder with a gun. This was an act of terror, a warning to black Americans: This is what happens when you push too hard.
At home that night, we watched the coverage on television. They showed the motel where it had happened. The rifle that was used. We were told the suspect had escaped (what???!!!) And over and over again in the days that followed were the stirring excerpts from the speech King had given the night before he was killed. “I’ve seen the promised land,” he said, “I may not get there with you … We, as a people, will get to the promised land.”
My father was born and raised in Charleston, South Carolina. My mother is from Talladega, Alabama. Both came up under the suffocating oppression of legal segregation. They moved to California where my brother and I were born and brought up.
King led and personified that struggle. He spoke for us with powerful, persuasive, morally-infused words -- lofty language delivered in the accent and cadence of the black South.
Now, half a century later after his killing, Martin Luther King Jr. is a legend. As time passes, the number of us who were alive when he was alive will decline. Soon he will be only the hazy image of an icon. He will become unimaginable as a person.
What will matter 50, 100, 500 years from now will be the man’s ideas and ideals, his goal of a better, fairer, more loving country and world. King risked and ultimately sacrificed his life – he was just 39 when he died -- in the belief that such a future was possible. He said the arc of history is long but it bends toward justice. He allowed us to believe that too.