Martin Luther King, Jr.

Martin Luther King Jr National Historic Site

Atlanta, GA
3.5.17

(from Brie's journal)

Today we went to the Martin luther King Jr. National Historic Site in Atlanta, Georgia, where he was born, preached, and gave speeches.  We saw the visitor center, the home where he was born, his and Loretta's grave, and the church they served in.

On the "Freedom Road"

I was almost sickened to learn about the violence caused by Americans...

the fact that people were killed, beaten, abused...because they were black.

I realized a little more that, for some people, not being able to stay in a hotel,

the possibility of being killed...were both just part of everyday life.

Everyday life.

To me, it sounded like a little bit of what the Jews must have experienced in Germany -

"You're not a person."  "I can do whatever I want to you." "We're better than you."

(Interesting that this was going on in the US so many years after WWII was fought,

supposedly against those ideas.)

In his house, we saw their piano (the one his little brother had tried to smash with a hammer so he wouldn't have to take lessons any more), the Monopoly game nobody could beat Martin at, the room where his sister had found their grandfather when he'd died of a heart attack, the plates and silverware they'd eaten with - in their nice clothes - their ice box, and the bathroom where Martin went to hide and read comics to avoid his turn to do the dishes.

Interestingly, his family didn't think he would become an amazing leader.  His sister said that he and his brother would rip her dolls apart, then use their heads for baseballs!

 Mom laughed and said, "and this boy grew up to win the Nobel Peace Prize!"

Martin's father and grandfather were hard workers in the early fight for civil rights.

His grandfather had helped make it possible for black people to actually ride on buses, winning a case that helped future cases.  And Dr. King's father helped people register to vote.

ML (as Jr was called) loved listening to his father's meetings while he was upstairs, leaning over the railing.  One day he was leaning over and tipped too far.  He fell over the banister and was unconscious for 3 minutes!  But he ended up being ok!

It was amazing being in the same church Dr. King had grown up in and then taught in.  

There's a new church across the street now, and our tour guide at the "birth house"

(all 3 of the King kids had been born in that house!) said he'd seen Miss Christine, Dr. King's sister, going to church that morning.

We walked right where he had walked.

I pictured him walking down the street, right across from us.

 

What would have happened if Martin Luther King, Jr. had not been killed?

Just like Abraham Lincoln - what if?

We learned in the Visitor Center about one night when Dr. King was at home with his wife and kids...

It was really late, and the phone rang.  He woke up, answered it, and received a death threat.  He put the phone down, then poured a cup of coffee and sat down. 

I was ready to give up. With my cup of coffee sitting untouched before me, I tried to think of a way to move out of the picture without appearing a coward. In this state of exhaustion, when my courage had all but gone, I decided to take my problem to God. With my head in my hands, I bowed over the kitchen table and prayed aloud.

The words I spoke to God that midnight are still vivid in my memory. "I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right. But now I am afraid. The people are looking to me for leadership, and if I stand before them without strength and courage, they too will falter. I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. I've come to the point where I can't face it alone."


At that moment, I experienced the presence of the Divine as I had never experienced God before. It seemed as though I could hear the quiet assurance of an inner voice saying: "Stand up for justice, stand up for truth; and God will be at your side forever." Almost at once my fears began to go. My uncertainty disappeared. I was ready to face anything."

After that prayer, he was filled with peace and felt that he could go on.  He knew the situation hadn't changed, but something inside him had.  Thank God.

Three days later, his house was bombed.  Thankfully no one was hurt.

Thank God for leading Dr. King and for giving him strength.

Where would we be?!