Martin Luther King once said that he became a criminal in the eyes of the FBI since his birth on 15th January 1929. Probably he never has been convinced of the contrary in his lifetime. Shortly after Martin Luther King got informed that he had won the Nobel Prize for Peace, he could read in the newspapers an interview with J. Edgar Hoover, the former FBI department chief. In this interview Hoover designated King as “the most notorious liar of the United States”. Also at a press conference Hoover spoke clearly out, what he was thinking about the black SCLC Leader. He promised that he just started with revealing “the truth” about Martin Luther King. J. Edgar Hoover wanted to uncover King as a Citizen Right Leader under the influence of the Communist Party with the aim of destroying the democratic system of the U.S.

Why was J. Edgar Hoover so sure he could inflict damage on the charismatic Martin Luther King?

After the famous “I have a dream“speech, the FBI was afraid of the “black Messiah”. They called him “the most dangerous and effective Negro leader in the country“[1]. These times are well known in the United States as the anti-communistic containment policy. The FBI feared any possible influence and believed in the domino theory. In result of that fear Hoover wanted to install bugs in King’s House and bureau. No one less than Robert Kennedy gave in 1963 the permission for the technical surveillance. Kennedy who always was shown as a great ally of King allowed the FBI to break into Kings private rooms. Moreover Kennedy added a proviso – he always wanted to get immediately informed of any pertinent information. However, at first sight the technical surveillance was not a success. No demo tape gave any proof of a communistic influence in Kings Work. Furthermore the FBI bugs “never picked any evidence that King himself was a Communist, or was interested in toeing the party line”.[2]

So the bugs couldn’t give any concrete evidence. King was not a Communist, even when he had friends and associates of the Communist Party. Stanley Leviston was one of them. He was one of the immediate advisers in Kings personal environment. Also he was under steady technical surveillance but no evidence was found. King once said about the communist reproaches that “there are as many communists in this freedom movement as there are Eskimos in Florida“. But Hoover did not believe him and searched forward to find other information to inflict damage on King. And he did. The memo tapes gave evidence that King had many affairs- probably with four other women. Maybe today nobody would make a big deal about that- not after the Monika Lewinsky affair. But at these times an extramarital affair was a pretty big scandal- moreover for a Baptist pastor. Even when King affirmed his affairs and said he would have to pass God’s judgment he also knew that the general public would not be so merciful. King and Hoover met once privately to discuss this topic. Afterward King called the meeting a friendly and understanding conversation among two people. King added that all problems should be solved right now. Most probably neither King nor Hoover believed that. J. Edgar Hoover’s private contempt for King was big and he had embarrassing and private details about Kings love life- no doubt he would reveal them.

After King came back from Oslo he received anonymous and ominous letters. “You are a colossal fraud and an evil, vicious one at that.” Or “The American public (…) will know you for what you are — an evil, abnormal beast,” (…) “Satan could not do more.” (…) “King you are done.” Some people have the theory, which says that the intent was to get King to commit suicide. “King, there is only one thing left for you to do,” (…) “You know what it is … You better take it before your filthy, abnormal fraudulent self is bared to the nation.”[3] A draft of one letter was later found in the FBI files. King did not commit suicide but continued his work. Maybe at first sight Hoover did not win the fight with King but surely at the second sight. When King planned the march in Memphis he booked a room in a hotel of a better standard than usually. Hoover immediately began his harassment once again. From his point of view it was hypocritical to fight for the poor and to live in a well-standard hotel. Furthermore Hoover approved an FBI plan to use “friendly press contacts” to pressure Martin Luther King into staying at the Lorraine Motel.

Dr. Martin Luther King bended to Hoover’s will and moved to the Lorraine Motel. At exactly that place he got assassinated- less than 24 hours later.[4]

written by Agnieszka Goździelewska©2009

Further Reading (extract):

Presler G., Martin Luther King, Reinbek bei Hamburg 1984.

Waldschmidt-Nelson B., Gegenspieler, Frankfurt am Main 2000.

Zitelmann A., Keiner dreht mich um, Berlin 1985.

[1] Christensen, Jen „FBI tracked King’s every move” on cnn.com http://edition.cnn.com/2008/US/03/31/mlk.fbi.conspiracy/index.html [31.03.2008].

[2] Ibidem.

[3] Ibidem.

[4] More Information at http://www.africawithin.com/mlking/assassination.htm.

Today we visited the Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, Tennessee. The assassination site of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. It was very sobering to stand there with the realization that he lost his life solely based on the color of his skin and that so much racism still exists in our society.  The Lorraine Motel is now a museum and stands as a monument to everything he stood for.  Another man who gave his life to change the world.

Dr. M.L.K., Jr.

the day Dr. King was assassinated.

Real Estate is my chosen profession and one of my passions but one of my key interest is History, and those who follow our Blogs understand why we take pride in interpreting our perspective while sharing historic topics from time to time.

For some April 4, 1968 seemed like yesterday, while for others it never happened, but for most they only know what someone else told them or they read.   As a nation, we take pride in celebrating births and on rare occasions deaths become just as celebrated. Today 41 years ago marks the Assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Not only in America but around the globe people are paying respect to the ideals Dr. King stood for.

I was 16 at the time of Dr. King’s death.  Like many as each year passed I gained a keen appreciation of his life and the symbol he represented.  I remember in 1983 when his birthday became a federal holiday, my wife and I were in San Francisco and had to hustle back to Los Angeles so we can see the first parade. Anyway, among celebrations throughout the years, we were extremely blessed last year to attend the 40th commemorative celebration last year in Memphis, TN. It was an event I never will forget.

A small tidbit for other history buffs is two of Dr. King’s grown children (Marty King, III & Rev. Bernice King) had never made the trek to the infamous Lorraine Motel so last year was the FIRST TIME THEY visited the site where he was assassinated as well as review the room he stayed. Losing my father in the 70’s, I could only be emphatic of  how they felt as they showed tremendous inspiration and spoke to the thousands in attendance.

Lorraine Motel Circa 2008

1968 Dr. King moments before assassination

Dr. King was an inspiration for America and the World. I know some may dispute that sentiment but they are welcome to pin their own blog. His message was love and hope and specifically for America wanted a place where all people could share in the resources that provide a reason for us to live a productive life.

Obviously, Dr. King is not here today as a physical person – but few can dispute his spirit abounds humanity. During my trek to Memphis, I had the opportunity to speak with Judge Joe Brown, who was the judge for the trial in determining how Dr. King was murdered and the rifle that was used. Some have no reason to want to explore who assassinated Dr. King. The current record list James Earl Ray, so for most that is the history they accept. After talking to the Judge, I am convinced James Earl Ray is not the absolute assassin. I bring this up……..not to stir the pot or add to your anxiety, but simply to suggest you think with a rationale mind. As prior to going to Memphis, I accepted the pinned version but luckily I ran into Judge Brown and there was no motivation on his part…..that I could tell, why he would fabricate any of his comments. All I’m saying is take time to understand the legacy of Dr. King and if you’re really interested do a little digging and reach your own conclusion on whether the assassin was James Earl Ray……..or someone else.

Judge Joe Brown and Judith circa 2008

In the meantime, I will be paying homage to the day Dr. King became an immortal soul.

Many tributes will be on television and cable channels throughout the weekend.  I would strongly recommend catching the piece Soledad O’Brien of CNN did last year which will be aired Saturday and Sunday.

Thanks for taking time to read. And of course in the spirit of Dr. King feel free to offer your comments.

__________________________________________

Fred Thomas, III VP, CB

Chief Bloggeroligist

Omega Capital Financial, Inc.

The new Life.com features a collection of never-before-published photos of the events in the hours immediately following Martin Luther King Jr.’s murder at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis. Here’s an AP story about the photos.

At my Facebook page, where I posted a link to the gallery, my friend Vinita Hampton Wright made the observation, “How ordinary the setting of such a pivotal event.” And I agree. I was especially fascinated by the image of King’s SCLC colleagues gathered in the small motel room after his death. It reminded me of the mood in the house when, as a little boy, I accompanied my parents to the home of a family friend who had just passed away. You can feel the awful silence, that sense of feeling lost but having no other choice but to carry on.

Tomorrow marks the forty-first anniversary of Dr. King’s death.

see Gallery

This is an itinerary that covers a lot of the southern half of Downtown, and that I think really introduces people to the soul of the neighborhood.  Get your walking shoes on for this one – gonna be a long day.  This would be best done on a Saturday.

- National Civil Rights Museum: Gotta start here if you’ve never been.  This, of course, is the site where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot on April 4, 1968 (look for the wreath on the second floor).  It’s the old Lorraine Motel, converted into a museum full of items that tell the story of the civil rights movement in America.  It’s at the corner of Mulberry and Huling in the South Main District.

Then walk or trolley north on Main, and turn right on Beale to get to

- A. Schwab: This is a “dry goods” store that has been on Beale Street since the 1870s.  You’ll find all kinds of mementos in there that you never knew existed.  Everything from 40 different kinds of hot sauces to size-70 overalls to funny hats to candles to Elvis memorabilia and much more.  Great place to get souvenir shopping and gift shopping done.  Get there before 5 PM; the upstairs closes at 5 on Saturdays and the entire thing closes at 5 the other days of the week (and it’s not open at all on Sunday).

Then walk west back to Main, then turn right and walk 1 block north to

- Center for Southern Folklore: This little gem on the Main Street Mall is full of local artwork, Memphis music CDs and DVDs, books about Memphis music, and lots of related items.  They have live entertainment on stage from time to time – ask for a schedule.  They also sell coffee, food, and beer.  Over Labor Day weekend they sponsor one of the best street festivals in the area.  The employees and volunteers at CSF are great people to tell you all about local and regional music.

Then walk south on Main 3 blocks, turn right on Pontotoc, and walk 1 block to Front.  There you’ll see

- Gus’s Chicken: Time for dinner.  This restaurant on Front has the best chicken in town.  It was won national awards, and people have been known to actually fly to Memphis just to pick up Gus’s.  Today’s special: CHICKEN.  It doesn’t matter what day you read this post – the special is always chicken.

Then walk back to Main, and walk or trolley south 5 blocks to

- Earnestine & Hazel’s: This is a little bar at Main and G.E. Patterson that has the best jukebox in town and a burger, the “Soul Burger,” that is among the best Downtown.  Be sure to walk through the upstairs if it’s open.  For years and years (up until about 18-20 years ago) this place was a brothel, and they have not redecorated the upstairs at all since those days.  In the very back corner of the upstairs there’s a tiny bar run by a guy named Nate on the weekends – one of the best bartenders in the city.

Then walk half a block east on G.E. Patterson to

- Calhoun’s: This one is a little bit different.  All the places I’ve named up ’til now have been around for years and years, and represent the soul, the history, of Downtown Memphis.  Calhoun’s Sports Bar, on the other hand, is barely more than a year old, but I’m including it because I feel it represents the current history, the present, of the South Main area.  There you’ll meet the owner, Max, and the locals, who will tell you more about Downtown Memphis than I can possibly include in this post.  You haven’t truly experienced Downtown until you’ve met its best feature – the people.  Drink some beer, watch some sports on their TVs, play some Buzztime Trivia or poker.

- For the last stop of the evening, it’s time to go dancing.  Hollywood Disco at Mulberry and Vance is my recommendation for now; however, as of the first weekend in April, you have your choice between Hollywood and Paula & Raiford’s Disco on Second just north of Monroe.  (I’ll leave it to locals you meet at the earlier stops to recommend one or the other.)  In either case, you’ll get a club experience unlike any other you’ve had.  Great disco and ’80s and soul music.  Leather couches, handprints on the wall, fog machines, disco balls and lights.  Forget everything you know about clubs; this is something completely different.

You may want to get a hotel room to crash for the night, rather than driving to other parts of town after a long day out.  I recommend the Sleep Inn at Court Square if you’re looking for value, and the Westin if you want something upscale.  Hotels with rooms for less than $50/night that are within walking distance of Downtown should be avoided at all costs.

There ya go… that should keep you busy for about 12 hours on a Saturday – probably 2 PM to 2 AM or thereabouts.

I was in the right place at the right time.  The only place that would have been any better is a front row seat at the inauguration.  Around 9:45am Tuesday morning, I arrived at the National Civil Rights Museum located in Memphis, TN.  For those of you who don’t know, the National Civil Rights Museum is dedicated to the Civil Rights struggle of African Americans.  It is housed in the former building for the Lorraine Motel, the site of the assassination of Martin Luther King, Jr in 1968.

The museum has scores of exhibits including one of the original Freedom Ride buses, replicas of the lunch counter that was used for sit-ins, and the Birmingham jail cell where MLK wrote the infamous Letter from Birmingham Jail.  Upon an initial visit, the archives can be overwhelming as I have seen many people abruptly discontinue their tour and leave the museum with tear-soaked faces.  The museum tour at the Lorraine Motel site culminates with replicas of Rooms 306 and 307, the former being the room where King last stayed on April 4th.  A giant wreath is placed in the exact spot where King stood when James Earl Ray fired the fatal shot.

Just a few steps away from Room 306, the museum has two large viewing rooms that the staff had set up for people to view the inaugural ceremony.  The museum was packed tightly with all races of people from different walks of life.  From the gift shop, the lobby, the auditorium and those two rooms, the building was at capacity.  Unbeknownst to me, at the time, I was in the room that was closest to the assassination site, surrounded by four of the cutest preteen girls.  They had bubbly personalities and seemed to be quite intelligent and well aware of this historic event.  At one point, we lost the live feed and a member of the museum staff had to fiddle around with the PC to get it back on track.  During the interruption, I overheard one of the young girls tell her friend, ‘If ya’ll make me miss my President, I’m going to be very upset.’   I gave her a high five in agreeance.

With the viewing of the inaugural ceremony underway, the children were the highlight.  You could hear the hope and excitement in their voices.   When Bush came in to be seated at the inauguration, the children, not the adults, burst into a hardy chorus of ‘Kiss Him Goodbye’.  The adults actually gave Bush a round of  applause as a courtesy I suppose…or maybe that was elation because he was leaving?  It didn’t matter to me; I just smirked.  Perhaps as my frustration subsides in the coming years, I will grow to respect Bush…but as for right now, no dice.  Once the camera fell on President Obama, I am not sure who was the loudest, the adults or the children.

So…after shedding a few tears of my own, I took note of the reactions in the room.  Shouts that sounded like Sunday morning and those common hand waves of testifying to the truth punctuated the air while others cheered with fervor.  While all of this was wonderful, it uncomparable to the moment I had once I left the viewing room.   As I came through the door and stood there briefly to get my bearings, I looked to my right and saw Rooms 306 and 307.

Now, before I go any further, let me confess.  I have been to the NCRM on several occasions and since my first time in 1991, when I could barely read the placards because of the flowing tears, I had worked up an immunity.  But this immunity would break down by the time I would reach his room and stand there, looking at the salt and pepper shakers, the coffee cup, and the turned down bedsheets and cry.  When looking at the wreath, it would actually make my knees buckle.  In 1991, as young college students, the museum guides allowed us to stand in the exact spot, which was incredibly haunting.

On Tuesday, January 20, 2009, I stood in that same spot where I have been on plenty occassions…at Room 306.  I pulled the curtain back and laid my eyes on that wreath again.  No tears. No sadness.  My heart pounded quickly and loudly in my chest; there was a rush of joy that swept over me.  Then, a moment of clarity: Not only did I witness history, I was a partaker in the process of history.  When I went to the polls during early voting in October 2008, I stood there as a beneficiary of a hard fought struggle marred by blood and pain.  As I watched the election results on November 4, 2008, I saw the evidence of a vision being fulfilled.  On Tuesday morning, as I watched President Barack Hussein Obama take the oath of office and then to stand in the area where King roamed prior to losing his life, I felt a sense of completion; not a completion for full equality but rather, we can put a check by this item on the To Do List of full restoration for a disenfranchised, marginalized people.  We needed a sign…and now we have one.

I walked away with a renewed vigor because now I know that I am a shaper of history.  More than ever, I know that I really do matter, not just in the smaller universe around me but in the grand scheme of all things.  Indeed, ‘greater works shall ye also do’.

Yo, so as they say around my way, ‘it gets greater later’.  Stay tuned.

Watching President Barack Obama take the oath of office as the nation’s 44th president and its first black commander-in-chief was a dream fulfilled, according to Hope Evans.

The Vicksburg, Miss., native was among hundreds of people gathered for a free inauguration viewing at the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel where the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated. King stayed at the Memphis motel when he came to Memphis in support of the 1968 sanitation workers strike.

“I wanted the experience to be monumental,” said Evans, a speech pathologist in Memphis.

She said she wanted to feel the camaraderie of others witnessing the history making event Tuesday from a large television screen inside the museum.

“It symbolizes unity not only among African Americans, but also white Americans and Hispanics and Asians,” she said. “I wanted to feel a sense of togetherness.”

Throughout the morning and early afternoon, elders silently nodded and swayed and wiped tears, particularly at the reference to forbearers whose work and sacrifices paved the way of this day. Children leaned closer as adults explained the proceedings. Journalists from CNN and ABC World News chronicled the crowd’s reaction and beamed video for live broadcasts during their inaugural telecasts. ABC’s broadcast in Memphis was one of eight live feeds; other locations included Kenya and Harlem, New York.

“All I can say is ‘Thank God. Thank God,’” said Patricia Carreras of Memphis.

She waited was among adults and schoolchildren who waited at least two hours to enter the museum to watch the inauguration.

“It’s an extremely important day. It’s a part of history and I didn’t want to watch it alone,” Carreras said. “I wanted to be a part of the energy. It’s bigger than the Fourth of July.”

It felt like part pep rally, part church service as onlookers reacted to first lady Michelle Obama’s attire or the introduction of luminaries including boxing great Muhammad Ali or singing legend Aretha Franklin’s rendition of “My Country ‘Tis of Thee” or the Rev. Joseph Lowery’s benediction. Lowery opened his prayer with the first words of the Negro National Anthem, “Lift Every Voice and Sing.”

When Obama took the oath of office, Evans cheered. As he spoke, she wiped tears from her face.

Others seated around her also cried and clapped and shouted “Amen” as Obama outlined his vision for the nation. He issued a call to action for all Americans to help create the change they would like to see in the economy, education, health care, the environment and foreign policy. He called on everybody to do their part.

“It’s almost like you feel the spirit of King, of the people who died for all us,” a young man said softly, referring to individuals who advocated against discrimination and segregation based on color, race and national origin.

Experts muse on Inauguration Eve or a slideshow of my pictures taken in Memphis on Inauguration Day

We wept and prayed and cheered while watching the 44th president take the oath of office. Hundreds of people gathered for a free inauguration viewing at the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel where the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated. Elders silently nodded and swayed and wiped tears, particularly at the reference to forebearers whose efforts and sacrifices paved the way of this day. Children leaned closer as adults explained the proceedings. Off to the right, off to the left and throughout this multigenerational, multiethnic group someone would clap or shout  “Amen” periodically to emphasize points they agreed with, underscoring President Barack Obama’s desire to revitalize the economy, promote public service and maintain the country’s status as a beacon, change agent in the world.

Photo: Francis Miller/LIFE

Observed on the third Monday of January, this year’s observance will mark the 80th birthday of the late Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and the 23rd anniversary of the national holiday. It is celebrated in some form in more than 100 countries, according to the King Center.

“It is a day of interracial and intercultural cooperation and sharing. No other day of the year brings so many peoples from different cultural backgrounds together in such a vibrant spirit of brother and sisterhood,” Coretta Scott King wrote in a message on the King Center Web site. “Whether you are African-American, Hispanic or Native American, whether you are Caucasian or Asian-American, you are part of the great dream Martin Luther King, Jr. had for America. This is not a black holiday; it is a peoples’ holiday. And it is the young people of all races and religions who hold the keys to the fulfillment of his dream.”

This year’s theme is Remember! Celebrate! A Day On, Not A Day Off  to celebrate his legacy and work as well as to act on his principles through community service initiatives and programs that promote interracial cooperation, according to the King Center.

“The greatest birthday gift my husband could receive is if people of all racial and ethnic backgrounds celebrated the holiday by performing individual acts of kindness through service to others,” said Coretta Scott King, who died in 2006.

Her nephew and King Center President/CEO Isaac Newton Farris, Jr. noted that Dr. King once said “I am convinced that if I had not had a wife with the fortitude, strength and calmness of Coretta, I could not have stood up amid the ordeals and tensions surrounding the Montgomery movement. I came to see the real meaning of that rather trite statement: ‘A wife can either make or break a husband.’ Coretta proved to be that type of wife with qualities to make a husband when he could have been so easily broken. In the darkest moments she always brought the light of hope.” 

Initiated by Congress in 1994, King Day of Service  transforms the federal holiday honoring King into a national day of community service. President-elect Barack Obama planned to participate in community service on Monday. He also asked Americans to serve on Monday and make an ongoing commitment to service.

Farris said Coretta Scott King was “truly a great leader in her own right. Even before she met Martin Luther King, Jr., she was active in the struggle for racial equality, social justice and peace. As Dr. King’s wife, partner and co-worker in the American Civil Rights Movement, she made numerous contributions throughout the various campaigns of the Movement and he often sought her input in developing strategy.”

The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. died on April 4, 1968 in Memphis where he was to help sanitation workers protest against low wages and intolerable working conditions. He was assassinated on the balcony at the Lorraine Motel, which is now the National Civil Rights Museum.

Dr. King’s funeral services were held at Ebenezer Baptist Church   and on the campus of Morehouse College. He is entombed on a 23-acre site that includes the King Center. The area was made a National Historic Site  in 1980.

After he died, Coretta Scott King worked tirelessly to insure that his life, work and teachings were remembered and studied by future generations, Farris said.

Image courtesy of www.thekingcenter.org

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One of the most poignant historical images in the life of black America depicted a group of black sanitation workers in Memphis, Tenn., in February 1968, who were striking for improved and safer working conditions. These men carried signs saying “I Am A Man” as they looked both defiant and desperate at the same time. They had been beaten, tear-gassed and demeaned by national guardsmen during their nonviolent demonstrations. The strike started after two Memphis garbage workers were crushed by a malfunctioning truck.
In the midst of this situation came the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. as the strike had struck at the heart of the civil-rights movement. On April 3^rd Dr. King was persuaded to speak at Mason Temple Church Of God In Christ in support of the striking workers. It was in this setting that King gave his famous mountaintop speech.

Dr. King mesmerized the crowd as he spoke about his own mortality: “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.” The next evening, as he was getting ready for dinner, King was shot dead on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel.

Forty years after Dr. King’s death, we witnessed history — something special, which will stay with us forever – a black man elected President of the United States of America. The moment President Elect Barack Obama, his wife and children appeared on stage at Grant Park in Chicago in front of 240,000 enthusiastic supporters was a snapshot in history to be remembered. It was a moment worthy of painting so we could hang it on our walls for posterity. Even outgoing President George W. Bush stopped to pay tribute to the election of a black successor four decades after the civil rights activists marched so that African-Americans could vote in such elections. “All Americans can be proud of the history that was made,” he said. “Many of our citizens thought they would never live to see that day.”

Using words similar to those used by Dr. King during his final speech, Obama told us: “The road ahead will be long, our climb will be steep,” he told a vast crowd in Chicago as he invoked a new spirit of patriotism. “We may not get there in one year or even one term, but America: I have never been more hopeful than I am tonight that we will get there. I promise you, we as a people will get there.”

The greatest speech Dr. King made — the “I Have a Dream” speech — was in August 1963 on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, as a crowd of 250,000 listened intently. “I have a dream,” he said, “that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold all these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.’ ” This month, at the other end of the Washington Mall, Barack Obama will be sworn in as the 44th president of the United States. We have, all of us, taken a huge step closer the Promised Land.

A few quick observations after spending the last 24 hours in Memphis…

Any first-time visitor to the city has to make time to see the National Civil Rights Museum.  (Photo at the beginning of the post.)  I spent an hour on a tour with the museum’s curator and the head of Memphis Heritage this morning, and I’ve seldom been as moved as when standing between the restored rooms 306 (Dr. Martin Luther King’s room) and 307, viewing the balcony at the Lorraine Motel.  One listens to excerpts from his final “Mountaintop” speech, delivered the night before, and then looks up to see the boarding house across the street where history changed.  Later in the tour, the view is reversed, as you stand next to James Earl Ray’s bathroom and see the balcony, with the historic cars parked outside beneath a large wreath.  Very powerful.

Tracey gave us an insiders tour.  We talked a great deal about the decisions behind the original exhibit and the thinking now underway for future exhibits.  I was pleased to see a section added with the support of the Indian community of Memphis on Gandhi.  It reminded me of my visit last year to Gandhi’s burial site in New Delhi (see photo).  Today I had the same emotions and gratefulness for courageous and visionary leaders.

In my talk at AIA Memphis last evening, I quoted historian and National Trust for Historic Preservation Trustee Emeritus David McCullough:

We are living now in an era of momentous change, of huge transitions in all aspects of life – here, nationwide, worldwide – and this creates great pressures and tensions.  But history shows that times of change are the times when we are most likely to learn.

We all learn about history from books, certainly, but reading history can’t compare with the experience of walking through history, seeing in the deferred dreams of the Lorraine Motel or the lively sweep of a historic Beale Street an entryway into our collective memory.  We need places like this because we need our collective memory.

I also had a delightful visit with the Chairman of the Board and the Director of the Center for Southern Folklore.  We shared many acquaintances (including my former professor Dr. Charles Wolfe) and I was pleased to hear of a Save America’s Treasures grant to help preserve a marvelous collection of photographs from Memphis’ African American community by the Rev. L.O. Taylor.  SAT was started by the Clinton Administration and the National Trust for Historic Preservation.  Preservation magazine has a story on SAT’s 10th Anniversary coming up in the next issue.

A couple of other things to see:  the famous Peabody Hotel ducks taking their stroll from the fountain in the lobby to the elevator.  They generate quite a crowd!  And June and I had an early lunch today at the Arcade Restaurant on S. Main Street, a classic diner and the city’s oldest cafe.  It has a great atmosphere that capped off two very interesting days to highlight preservation work in Memphis.

This was a business trip, so I couldn’t play tourist.  Things I missed that tourists enjoy:  the Stax museum, which June says is terrific, and Graceland. (I joked in my talk that the last time I visited Memphis, Graceland had an occupant.)  But of course, even these sites have preservation implications.  Many of the Stax stars lived in homes around the neighborhood worthy of preservation and Graceland is – of course – the historic home of the King.

Back at my home now…and getting ready for next weekend’s work trip to North Carolina.

More to come…

DJB

clicca sull’immagine per l’ingrandimento

Location:  Memphis, TN      Miles Driven: 1264

Memphis is a blast!  We rolled into town yesterday afternoon and at the first sight of an operational street-car, I was taken with this city.  We’re staying in a great little pied-a-tere in the heart of downtown and are close to everything. 

In true CWG and Husban-dito fashion, the first thing we checked out in Memphis was the food.  We navigated through the streets to the east side of Memphis and a restaurant called The Beauty Shop.  This place was a scream!  It’s a former beauty salon dating back to who knows when that has great local food and charm galore!  Yes, those are actual hair dryers being used as seating.  Love this place!

After dinner we drove all over the city to get our bearings.  The Mississippi is truly something.  We also wandered down to the Lorraine Motel which is where Martin Luther King Jr. was assasinated.  It was sobering and eerie because they preserved the hotel and vehicles exactly as they were in 1968.  We’re going to tour the Civil Rights Museum during our stay.  There’s plenty to see here and we’re short on time, so I’m off to see the sights!

From Time.Com

This is another prompt poem – it was written off of today’s prompt from Scott Woods’ LiveJournal: the view from a hotel balcony. This was written as a tanka chain.

-Nicole

——————————————-

standing in front of
the king-abernathy suite
the lorraine motel
rectangular collection
of aqua doors and beige walls

“play it real pretty”
were his final instructions
ben was listening
but then ben heard something else
a shot heard around Memphis

six-o-one p.m.
a missile launched from somewhere
an unseen bullet
they all point across the street
death dealt from across the street

at seven-o-five
they pronounced doctor king dead
bewildered still
are the ones left in his wake
unanswered questions remain

Written 6/11/08
© 2008 Nicole Nicholson. All Rights Reserved.

Stumble It!

On Friday, John McCain gave a speech at the National Civil Rights Museum (formerly the Lorraine Motel, where Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated) in Memphis, TN.  Friday was the 40th anniversary of King’s assassination.  During the speech, McCain noted that he originally voted against making King’s birthday a federal holiday.  He went on to say the following (there’s a video below the quote):

“We can be slow as well to give greatness its due, a mistake I made myself long ago when I voted against a federal holiday in memory of Dr. King.  I was wrong. [Audience] I was wrong. [Audience] And eventually realized that, in time to give full support for a state holiday in Arizona. [Audience: "We forgive you."  "Everyone makes mistakes."] I’d remind you we can all be a little late sometimes in doing the right thing, and Dr. King understood this about his fellow Americans.”

The resolution (H.R. 3706), passed the House on August 2, 1983, 338-90 with 5 not voting and the Senate on October 19, 78-22.  So, just who all voted against the resolution?

House of Representatives:

• Douglas Applegate (D-OH-18)
• William Reynolds Archer, Jr. (R-TX-7)
• Robert Badham (R-CA-40)
• Steve Bartlett (R-TX-3)
• Herbert Bateman (R-VA-1)
• Michael Bilirakis (R-FL-9)
• Hank Brown (R-CO-4)
• Carroll Cambell, Jr. (R-SC-4)
• William Carney (R-NY-1)
• William Clinger (R-PA-23)
• Barber Conable, Jr. (R-NY-30)
• Larry Craig (R-ID-1)
• Daniel Crane (R-IL-19)
• Philip Crane (R-IL-12)
• Dan Daniel (D-VA-5)
• William Dannemeyer (R-CA-39)
• Bill Dickinson (R-AL-2)
• David Dreier (R-CA-33)
• John Erlenborn (R-IL-13)
• Bobbi Fiedler (R-CA-21)
• Jack Fields (R-TX-8)
• Webb Franklin (R-MS-2)
• Bill Frenzel (R-MN-3)
• William Goodling (R-PA-19)
• Phil Gramm (R-TX-6)
• Sam Hall, Jr. (D-TX-1)
• John Paul Hammerschmidt (R-AR-3)
• James Hansen (R-UT-1)
• Marjorie Holt (R-MD-4)
• Earl Hutto (D-FL-1)
• Andy Ireland (R-FL-10)
• James Jeffords (R-VT)
• Ed Jenkins (D-GA-9)
• Thomas Kindness (R-OH-8)
• Ken Kramer (R-CO-5)
• Robert Lagomarsino (R-CA-19)
• Delbert Latta (R-OH-5)
• Marvin Leath (D-TX-11)
• Tom Loeffler (R-TX-21)
• Trent Lott (R-MS-5)
• Manuel Lujan, Jr. (R-NM-1)
• Ron Marlenee (R-MT-2)
• David Marriott (R-UT-2)
• Lynn Martin (R-IL-16)
• James Martin (R-NC-9)
• David Martin (R-NY-26)
• John McCain (R-AZ-1)
• Al McCandless (R-CA-37)
• Bill McCollum (R-FL-5)
• Larry McDonald (D-GA-7)
• Clarence Miller (R-OH-10)
• Guy Molinari (R-NY-14)
• G. V. “Sonny” Montgomery (D-MS-3)
• William Moore III (R-LA-6)
• Carlos Moorhead (R-CA-22)
• Bill Nichols (D-AL-3)
• Howard Nielson (R-UT-3)
• Ron Packard (R-CA-43)
• Chip Pashayan (R-CA-17)
• Ron Paul (R-TX-22)
• Thomas Petri (R-WI-6)
• Carl Pursell (R-MI-2)
• James Quillen (R-TN-1)
• Richard Ray (D-GA-3)
• James Robinson (R-VA-7)
• Hal Rogers (R-KY-5)
• Toby Roth (R-WI-8)
• Eldon Rudd (R-AZ-4)
• Dan Schaefer (R-CO-6)
• Jim Sensenbrenner (R-WI-9)
• Richard Shelby (D-AL-7)
• Norman Shumway (R-CA-14)
• Bud Shuster (R-PA-9)
• Virginia Smith (R-NE-3)
• Denny Smith (R-OR-5)
• Robert Smith (R-OR-2)
• Gene Snyder (R-KY-4)
• Gerald Solomon (R-NY-24)
• Floyd Spence (R-SC-2)
• Arlan Stangeland (R-MN-7)
• Charles Stenholm (D-TX-17)
• Bob Stump (R-AZ-3)
• Don Sundquist (R-TN-7)
• Tom Tauke (R-IA-2)
• Gene Taylor (R-MO-7)
• Barbara Vucanovich (R-NV-2)
• George Whitehurst (R-VA-2)
• Larry Winn, Jr. (R-KS-3)
• C. W. Bill Young (R-FL-8)
• James Scheuer (D-NY-8) did not vote on the resolution, although he was present that day.

Senate:

• James Abdnor (R-SD)
• John East (R-NC)
• Jim Exon (D-NE)
• Jake Garn (R-UT)
• Barry Goldwater (R-AZ)
• Chuck Grassley (R-IA)
• Orrin Hatch (R-UT)
• Chic Hecht (R-NV)
• Jesse Helms (R-NC)
• Gordon Humphrey (R-NH)
• Roger Jepsen (R-IA)
• James McClure (R-ID)
• Frank Murkowski (R-AK)
• Don Nickles (R-OK)
• Larry Pressler (R-SC)
• Jennings Randolph (D-WV)
• Warren Rudman (R-NH)
• John Stennis (D-MS)
• Steve Symms (R-ID)
• John Tower (R-TX)
• Malcom Wallop (R-WY)
• Edward Zorinsky (D-NE)

(Just a note – this post is coming so late, because I tried to get to the library to get the above records, but it was closed the first two times I went, and then, the Congressional Record for 1983 was missing – the ONE year I need, and it’s the only year missing. so I was able to find the information in the Journal of the House of Representatives and the Journal of the Senate.)

I’ve gotta say, I don’t agree that it should be a holiday, and here’s why: it sets a bad precedent.  Why should we honor just one civil rights activist (a great activist at that), but why just King?  What about César Chávez?We should honor all activists, from Morris Dees, to Rosa Parks, to César Chávez, to Martin Luther King, Jr.

Is it perhaps too late to change it now?  Probably, but in the future, if the situation presents itself, I think we should change it.

And I’d like to note something else – my college, Central Michigan University, recently switched giving students off Good Friday for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.  Doctor King, a good Christian man, NEVER would have supported this – he would have been horrified of something like that.  The best way to honor Doctor King is to honor his beliefs, not his person.

Done Ranting,

Ranting Republican
:: :: :: :: ::

© 2008 henry toromoreno

(Written on Friday, April 4th, 2008)

Today is the 40th anniversary of the death of Martin Luther King, Jr.

I was 12 years old when King was assassinated. Growing up in the all-white Galewood neighborhood of Chicago, I was somewhat odd. I gave a bit more thought to race relations and the civil rights movement than most of my pals and classmates, which means only that I thought precious little about those things. I did fancy myself aware of current events and knew a fact or two about King’s work, so that probably made me the resident intellectual of my block.

At the time, huge swaths of Chicago’s west side were undergoing radical change. A couple of miles to the east and south of Galewood, black families were beginning to buy homes in white neighborhoods. As each new black family moved onto a block near the intersection of Madison Street and Central Avenue, their new white neighbors had what can only be described as nervous breakdowns.

Petitions were drawn up, protest marches were held, and teenagers could be counted on to throw rocks through the windows of their new neighbors, toss Molotov cocktails in their backyards, and spit on their children as they tried to walk to school.

When all the yelling, screaming, vandalism, and physical assaults failed to deter black homebuyers, the whites turned to their local real estate agents for help. Whites retreated as if from an invading army. An entire block would turn from white to black in a matter of weeks.

The real estate men spared no pains to portray the black migration as a military siege, whispering to neighbors about the black family moving in, one block over. You know, you’d better think about selling before it’s too late. And the kicker: Hey, do you want your daughter sitting next to a big black buck in her sophomore biology class?

Back up in Galewood, with its comfortable bungalows, neatly mowed lawns, and a populace that was keeping a wary eye on developments to the south and east, I had no more knowledge of what was going on than I had of events in Tasmania.

I was vaguely aware that blacks were restive. In school, I’d learned about slavery in America so when I’d see news reports featuring angry young black men, I figured, heck, I’d be mad too.

I couldn’t imagine any blacks would be angry at me, though. Or my neighbors. Or anyone in my family. Their ire was directed at Georgia lunch counter operators who refused to serve them and Alabama governors who denied them entrance to state colleges.

Blacks had no quibble with me. In fact, I could count the number of times I’d even seen an African-American!

Once, when my mother was walking me to kindergarten, a man walked toward us. I was transfixed. He wore bib overalls, heavy work boots, and a railroad engineer’s cap. Underneath that cap, though, was an astonishing sight. His face was jet black. I stared at him as only a kid that age can and continued to do so, my head on a swivel, long after he passed us.

Finally, after he’d disappeared around a corner, I turned to my mother and asked, “What’s wrong with that man?”

Perhaps she misunderstood my question. Or, just as likely, she understood perfectly and was at a loss find the right words to explain him. My mother replied, “Maybe he’s just going to work.”

I nodded. Then it dawned on me. Of course. He works on a train. All that black smoke blows on him all day long and he simply forgot to wash his face this morning!

I saw another black human being a few years later.

I’d become friends with a kid named Brian in my third grade class. His father was a successful oral surgeon and his family lived in what appeared to me to be a palatial home in the high-toned section of Oak Park, a suburb just across North Avenue from my home. One day, my mother allowed me to go to Brian’s house after school to play. While there, I saw a woman wearing a classic maid’s uniform walking around the house, picking up after us kids and cautioning us not to tear the place apart. Her face, like the railroad man’s, was black.

By that time, I knew what a black person was. But I had no idea what a maid was. Again, I formulated my own explanation. This one disturbed me. Immediately upon arriving home at dinner time, I announced to my mother that I wasn’t interested in going over to Brian’s house anymore after school. “Why?” she asked. “Because,” I told her, “they have a slave.”

The next summer, I eavesdropped on a conversation between my father and a couple of neighbors. One of them, Mr. Mitchell from across the alley, chomped on his cigar as he pontificated about the state of the nation, repeatedly mentioning “the niggers.” It was clear that Mr. Mitchell was highly agitated by them but I never quite caught what their specific sins were. I came away certain only that Mr. Mitchell was unhappy and he blamed, well, you know who.

My problem was, I didn’t know who or what you-know-who were. That evening at dinner, I asked, “What are the niggers?” My mother almost dropped her fork. “Don’t ever use that word again,” she warned. “It’s one of the worst words in the English language.”

I learned all the complex and myriad meanings of the word not too much later. While I wish I could say I always kept in mind what my mother told me at the dinner table that day, I cannot. As that invading army moved northward through Austin, ever closer to Galewood, my neighborhood pals became awfully opinionated about matters of race. The pressure on me to conform was enormous.

Somewhere deep within me, though was an idea that couldn’t be crushed by peer pressure. After dinner that unseasonably warm Thursday, April 4th, 1968, I turned on the television and flipped to Channel 26, at the time one of the new UHF stations that could be counted on for odd programming like wrestling and foreign movies in which I might see a flash of cleavage.

But that evening, Channel 26 wasn’t airing any theatrical grappling or tantalizing breast skin. It simply broadcast a still photo of Martin Luther King, Jr. accompanied by somber music. I switched to the VHF channels and quickly discovered what had happened in Memphis.

Having grown up around people like Mr. Mitchell from across the alley and kids who were more than happy to explain to me what “the niggers” were, I knew that Martin Luther King wasn’t among friends in white America. His assassination came as no surprise.

So I switched back to Channel 26 and searched that photo of King for signs of his humanity as the somber music played. I stared at the photo for at least a half hour. His face was melancholy, roundish, and soft. It was a baby face. Without realizing it, I’d begun to cry.

Being 12 years old, I was horrified by my tears. I craned my neck to make sure nobody was headed toward the living room. Certain I’d be alone for the time being, I slumped back into my chair and permitted myself to cry over the death of a man whose existence I’d too rarely considered before that moment.

The story doesn’t end there. Despite being innocently appalled that my friends’ family were “slaveowners,” despite learning at the age of eight that the word “nigger” conveyed an unspecified evil, and despite sitting alone and weeping before a photo of King as an adolescent, I still had a long way to go.

There were still those enormous pressures to conform. While I might have felt a visceral reaction to King’s death, I learned the next day it was smarter to keep it to myself. That Friday at school, I confided to a couple of friends my opinion that King’s killing was a terrible thing. What a mistake! After giving me a sound beating, my two friends went around the schoolyard telling everybody that Glab was a “nigger lover.”

In Galewood in the year 1968, there were two things one never wanted to be known as: a queer or a nigger lover. Suddenly, I was one of the two worst types of human beings in the world.

So I attempted, half-heartedly, to reclaim my good standing. The best way to do so was – what else? – rail against “the niggers.” I tried my level best to join in on the verbal black-bashing that took place virtually every day. I wanted the guys to like me again. I hated the fact that the girls looked at me as if I had a screw loose. But howling about black people came neither easily nor naturally to me.

For the next ten years, a battle raged within me: the kid who cried over a photo of Martin Luther King versus the kid who wanted so badly to be part of the Galewood gang. Sometimes I was the self-appointed conscience of the neighborhood, a conscience to which no one listened, who spoke of civil rights and the martyrdom of King and the promise of Jesse Jackson. Other times I was the coward who said nothing when guys dropped the N-word indiscriminately or, worse, roared with laughter at their racist jokes.

I was an awfully mixed-up kid.

Then, when I was 22 years old, sitting in the office of the cable TV company I worked for while in college, surrounded by a different set of N-dropping lunkheads whom I inexplicably wished to be accepted by, I used the N-word myself.

What I didn’t know was that a fellow named Chris, tall, ambitious and intelligent, had sauntered into the room. He had a deep, commanding voice. He was articulate. And he was angry. “Now, why do you have to use racial epithets?” he asked. Or, more accurately, he demanded.

My mother’s dinner-table admonishment came back to me. I stuttered, “I dunno…, I didn’t mean anything by it…, don’t be mad or anything….” Chris glared at me, gave a tiny shake of his head, and walked out of the room. Chris, of course, was black.

At that moment, I swore I’d never utter the N-word again. It was an epiphany. I wanted to say to all the lunkheads I’d ever known, You know, you’re right. I am a nigger lover!

A couple of years later, walking down Michigan Avenue, I saw a familiar face approaching. It was Chris. As we neared each other, he noticed me looking at him. I started to open my mouth to say hello but thought the better of it when he finally recognized me. His face was transformed. It became filled with anger and disdain. And pain. He looked away and passed me by wordlessly.

What does all this have to do with science?

This: look up the word race. What does it mean?

Science, after spending the better part 400 years trying to justify racism, now offers the only definition that makes sense: nothing.

Race, anthropologists and geneticists say, ain’t nuthin’.

“The concept of race stems from the idea that the human species can be naturally subdivided into biologically distinct groups. In practice, however, scientists have found it impossible to separate humans into clearly defined races. Most scientists today reject the concept of biological race and instead see human biological variation as falling along a continuum.” So says the online encyclopedia, Encarta, in its entry on race.

How about a more venerable resource? “Genetic studies in the late 20th century denied the existence of biologically distinct races, and scholars now argue that ‘races’ are cultural interventions reflecting specific attitudes and beliefs that were imposed on different populations in the wake of western European conquests beginning in the 15th century.” That’s today’s take on race by the Encyclopedia Britannica.

Even the United States government, the same entity that gave its blessing to the peculiar institution of slavery, has come around. Here’s the US Census Bureau’s pronouncement on race in its final summary of the 2000 census, issued in 2003: “The concept of race, as used by the Census Bureau, reflects self-identification by people according to the race or races with which they most closely identify. These categories are socio-political constructs and should not be interpreted as being scientific or anthropological in nature.”

Ian F. Haney Lopez, professor of law at the University of California, Berkeley, wrote in the Harvard Civil Rights-Civil Liberties Law Review: “The data compiled by various scientists demonstrates, contrary to popular opinion, that intra-group differences exceed inter-group differences. That is, greater genetic variation exists within the populations typically labeled black and white then between these populations.”

So what the hell was Martin Luther King, Jr. shot and killed for? For being a member of the black race. For nothing.

And I, through the use of the single word that condemns human beings to a prison of race, caused a man to feel pain for years.

Why? Because I was trying to curry favor with a bunch of guys who’d devoted significant amounts of energy to the hatred of members of another race. They had focused their energy on nothing.

I’ll leave it to a couple of brilliant thinkers, who are more often defined by their skin color than by the capacities of their minds, to explain my own behavior.

Cornel West, professor of religion at Princeton, quoted noted author Ralph Ellison in the opening chapter of his 1993 book, “Race Matters.” Ellison, who won the 1953 National Book Award for his novel, “The Invisible Man,” used the opportunity to attempt to explain how racism brought whites together.

Here’s what he wrote: “Since the beginning of the nation, white Americans have suffered from a deep, inner uncertainty as to who they really are. One of the ways that has been used to simplify the answer has been to seize upon the presence of black Americans and use them as a marker, a symbol of limits, a metaphor for the ‘outsider.’ Many whites could look at the social position of blacks and feel that color formed an easy and reliable gauge for determining to what extent one was or was not American. Perhaps that is why one of the first epithets that many European immigrants learned when they got off the boat was the term ‘nigger’ – it made them feel instantly American.”

So, according to West and Ellison, I only wanted to be part of a group, a real American, a member of the family. Maybe. Only it was the wrong damned family!

It should make me feel a bit better to know that thinkers such as West and Ellison understand why I was such a dope as a young man. But it doesn’t. Not when I think of the pain I saw on that fellow Chris’s face that day on Michigan Avenue.

That’s what I’m thinking about on the 40th anniversary of the death of Martin Luther King, Jr.

Next time,

Big Mike