Monday, January 16, 2012

A Dream That Still Wants to be a Reality..


Today the memory of a man who gave up his life for his ideals is commemorated.
  All of us who were alive at the time of the “Freedom Marches” remember this man… Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. He was bigger than his time and bigger than the life which held him to an earthly role. Following the lead of M. Gandhi, a man Dr. King often cited; he chose the path of reconciliation and peaceful confrontation, in times when campus uprisings and take overs were becoming common, and terms like “Black Panthers” and “Burn Baby, Burn” were part of daily life.

We, as a nation, were slowly beginning what would be a long road to emotional recovery (some folk say that perhaps it has not been fully attained yet), trying to understand the wounds self inflicted during the Viet Nam “incident”; a non-declared war which a congress that was too afraid to act, allowed to go on under very restrictive conditions for our guys. These conditions, like fighting with one arm tied behind your back, I am sure cost many additional lives for our side. The relatively new magic picture box brought this war and all its attending horror right into our living rooms; it was the first televised war. Dinner theater for the hardy of heart and stomach.

In the middle of these rumblings, where going to study at most any university meant undergoing a course in civil disobedience, a voice trying to preach reason was being heard. It was a voice that called for unity, for loving one another, for forgiveness, for working together to forge a new and better nation; a voice that called for the equality of man, regardless of race or creed. It was a voice that talked about a dream, a dream of equality in truth, not words. When all is said and done, it was a voice that actually took the heart and soul of the written constitution of this country and brought it back looking to make it a living reality, not just a living document.

It was a time of fear for many; the world was not turning as it normally did. Society itself was upside down, there was the fear of civil unrest in our country... something which had not been lived in several generations.

I, along with many others, heard his call. We believed that the social experiment that started this great nation would not be complete until all within had the same rights. Conversely, those rights carried responsibilities and all who wanted to enjoy the good side had to understand that these last had to be respected as well.

Dr. King Jr., as we know, was a preacher by training, calling and lifestyle. He was good, very good at communicating and at presenting a message with fire and joy. His call was convincing; even today, when I hear one of his speeches, it turns my heart. He believed in his message and so preached it with that inner conviction that only comes from absolute trust and confidence in what you are bringing forward for others to hear. 

As many other who have gone against the grain of society in difficult times, Dr. King eventually paid the ultimate price: his life.  As with the Kennedy assassination, many theories were brought forward and none were proven beyond doubt. The end result was that a martyr was born but, as with most martyrs, the cause for which he died lost steam. Until several years passed, additional riots took place, and more general unrest was lived.

Eventually, his message began to be heard again and inroads were made in what was then a different environment; one more willing to listen and to change. Those who, in the intervening years took up his cry and tried to run with it, fell short. The shoes to be filled were just much too big. Some came from the cloth, as was Dr. King and some came from the streets. For the most part, they had too much baggage to be credible preaching a message of peace and unity and failed miserably. For a while, not much was heard until his widow took the standard, albeit reluctantly at first. She did hang on to the remnants of a dream that was drifting in the winds of societal woes but which, at the same time, had somehow managed to hold together its core message.

A voice crying in the wilderness; a voice which forced a nation to stop and take notice. Today this bit of American history is remembered in a holiday that, in its own approval process, created somewhat of a stir. Nothing, even in death, was easy for the message or the messenger.

Remember him, for he was (and still is…) a social messenger. We may or not agree with someone’s call, but when a dedicated life is lead in honest accord with the message being preached, even in the face of extreme hardship, the messenger has to be respected and yes, admired.

Be Well … Be Back!!!

Final Notes:
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