I only met Dr. King once, in Atlanta in either 1967 or early 1968. It was not at all clear in my mind at that time just what his role in the world really was. But I did sense that he was important in the overall scheme of things, so I paid attention.
When he was killed and brought back to Atlanta for burial, I was flabbergasted with the numbers of people who showed up for the funeral and memorial services. I was also disgusted with the official response of Georgia, and the response of massive numbers of the white community.
As I look back now, I feel I have lost both the wonder at the numbers of people who came and the disgust with Governor Maddox. I have also sort of forgiven myself for not understanding what was happening at the moment.
Standing in front of the church, I mostly watched the people around me. I looked at faces, at eyes and mouths. As I watched, it seemed to me I saw some realities that would change the face of the world for all time.
Since that day, I have heard thousands of commentators and pundits, clergy and lay, make ostensibly wise statements about the man and the movement. Nearly every one of them was wrong in their assessment.
Most of the punditry of the non-Black community since 1968 has assumed that the issue has been something to do with the issue of race itself. It has assumed that the racial understanding of the U.S. Government is accurate. That is, that there is some sort of built-in genetic barrier between a distinct number of races. I know, my friends, that this is at best silly, but it is a reality within many of our institutions.
As I looked into the eyes of the ordinary folks that day, I saw eyes filled with something quite different. That something quite different was something I have seen in low income white communities, Indian communities, Asian communities, Tex-Mex communities across the U.S. and Canada.
