Selma

I worked for Dr. King for three years.

He was my employer,

my minister,

my friend.

I remember the living room of his simple home

on the edge of the Black slums.

He chose to live there.

He used to say

“I want to be reminded each day for whom I work.”

That living room

was a reflection of the man.

There was a large statue of Gandhi on a table

and a very large painting of a woman

for a mirror –

one side of the woman was black,

the other side was white.

His Nobel Prize for Peace Medal

was by the window.

When he sat in that room

with Gandhi,

the black and white mirror

and the Golden Nobel Medal for Peace, 

he must have thought about the work
he Knew he had  to do,

and the spirit of Non-Violence

in which he had to do it!

I joined the Movement in Selma, Alabama

in the Violence

of the Spring of 1965 –

“Bloody Sunday”

when policemen on horses

clubbed men and women

chocking on tear gas!

“Bloody Sunday”

when there was no place

for the wounded

in  the “White Hospitals”

of Selma.

I joined the Movement

“armed” with

a portable tape recorder

I had brought back from Europe!

I was studying to be a minister.

I was young!

I wanted to do something!

I started to record news the media had missed

and went to Dr. King and asked

what I should do with the recordings.

He wanted America

to know what was happening!

If there was going to be change,

America had to know!

I met Bill Stein, another volunteer –

a  public relations expert.

Together, we sent  recordings via telephone

to radio and TV stations so America would know.

We reported how

one planned march to Montgomery

had to turn around

and another

and another and

how Dr. King finally got permission

to march across

the Edmund Pettus Bridge.

We marched behind Dr. King

from Selma to Montgomery – the state capitol.

We marched to demand

Voting Rights for the “Negro.”

Little kids marched along with us and sang,

“I love state troopers. 

 I love everybody with my heart.

 I love George Wallace. “

They sang about loving the men who beat

their fathers and mothers

and the Governor of Alabama

who forbid them to march!


When we finally arrived in Montgomery,

I interviewed about 20 people for the news.

I’ll never forget one little girl who I asked:   “Are you tired?”

She answered,   “My feets only hurts when I stop.”

Such a man was Dr. Martin Luther King – 

He lived with Gandhi

and a black and white mirror

and Medal of Gold for Peace.

He could never stop –

He WOULD never stop

 “until (as he said)  justice rolls down like the waters

 and righteousness like a mighty stream.

He was my employer,

my minister,

my friend.

He meant everything to me

and he still does –

every day of my life I work in his reflection.

 “My feets only hurts when I stop.”                      

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