Martin Luther King Jr. Day

For me, it’s personal

Just a couple of months after I celebrated my twentieth birthday, April 4, 1968, a rifle shot would jolt the nation’s conscience. I lived in a college dormitory in the heart of the city of Chicago. For spending money, I popped and sold Garrett’s popcorn just off State Street in The Loop. My favorite blend was caramel and cheese corn - buttered, for sure.

But that fateful day would change everything. The indelible image would be forever emblazoned in our national consciousness. Dr. King stood on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel in Memphis with his trusted comrades: Jesse Jackson and Ralph Abernathy. A single shot ended his life.

Our cities were a tinder box. The match was lit. Riots exploded across the country, including in the neighborhood of our school. We saw the flames from our dorm windows. National Guard troops cruised up and down Chicago and LaSalle. We heard gunshots. The mayhem lasted for days.

Just a few weeks later, our men’s choir tour of the South included a big concert in Memphis. While our program made no mention of the assassination (we didn’t want to offend our white church audience), our Greyhound bus driver suggested that we drive by the Lorraine Motel just to get a glimpse of history. We forty college guys went strangely silent as we slowly rolled past the Motel and contemplated the gruesome scene. It felt like sacred ground. “You men will remember this moment for the rest of your lives,” our director told us.     

He was right.

Recently, I revisited that street corner in Memphis with some 39 fellow sojourners on a Civil Rights Tour of the South. The National Civil Rights Museum preserved the façade just as it was when we made that drive-by back in 1968. As I stood just a few feet away from that hallowed scene, I felt the same emotion - grief, lament, and a palpable heart heaviness. For real.

At our Bible school, we considered ourselves to be somewhat more progressive than Bob Jones University, also a Bible college. We were appalled when we heard that the assassination provoked a celebratory standing ovation in their Chapel service. That said, our predominantly white student body fell well short of a full grasp of the import of what happened there in Memphis all those years ago. 

Fifty-five years have passed. Almost every city in America has a Martin Luther King Boulevard. A Martin Luther King Public School. A Martin Luther King Memorial Park. A stunning memorial statue of Martin Luther King stands on prominent display in Washington D.C., just off the National Mall.

At the same time, we also have politicians and educators who decry Critical Race Theory. Our Supreme Court decided to terminate the Voting Rights Act. Diversity, equity and inclusion programs have been all but eliminated in corporate America, colleges and universities, and government agencies. Recently, the Court dismantled affirmative action.

There are Americans today who resent that a national holiday is even on our calendar - Martin Luther King Day. 

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Back in Chicago, in 1968, I can still hear it. A  lifelong Chicagoan, my own Grandmother, when she spoke of “that Martin Luther King fellow.” There was rancor and disdain in her voice. 

When I voted for Barack Obama in 2008 and then again in 2012, I still remember that same tone among my friends. I kept my vote to myself - mainly because I didn’t want to hear someone repeat - “I’m against him - not because he’s black. It’s his POLICIES.” I never got a good answer about what those policies were. But I could hear that same disdain and rancor that I heard in my grandmother’s voice.

Secretary of Defense, Lloyd Austin (a celebrated Five Star General), made his way into the headlines this week of Martin Luther King Day. There are vociferous calls for his immediate resignation. His crime? He didn’t want the world to know that he’s got cancer. Someone botched his surgery. It got complicated. He kept it to himself.

Yes, he’s a public official. But once again, in those voices, I hear that rancor and the disdain. Of course, it has nothing to do with the fact that he’s an African American serving on the highest level of our nation’s leadership. He’s just plain irresponsible!

I don’t hear folks expressing concern for his person. For his health. For his well-being. Only that HE NEEDS TO GO!

Has anyone taken a moment to contemplate the impact of a prostate cancer diagnosis on a seasoned African American male? Is there no compassion?

Joe Biden’s horrible reputation among Republican voters can be attributed to some extent to the diversity of his leadership team (Go Brandon!). He is accused of all manner of disregard for “The American Way.” 

Here’s my question: where is the diversity on the other side of the aisle? If you happen to find a person of color over there, from them you’ll also hear about “colorblind” and election denials and book bannings and WOKE and that slavery was really a good thing.

Jemar Tisby calls it the “white-washing of the MLK legacy.” It’s popular these days to cherry-pick King quotes that make us all feel like we have fully embraced his vision. “I have a dream…” Mission Accomplished.

But I’ve read “A Letter from a Birmingham Jail.” It’s as relevant today as when he wrote it.

We’ve still got work to do. Lots of work. On this Martin Luther King Day, we need to own up to that.

It’s a day for me to put it in writing: my life has been immeasurably enriched because of Dr. King.

God bless his memory.

May his weighty efforts continue to inspire ours.