A small triumph for right over wrong
Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. 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.

It was almost as if he knew. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said those words on April 3, 1968. On that day, it was almost as if he knew he had changed the world by the force of his own will. It was almost as if he knew that a people who had spent centuries being punished for no reason other than the color of their skin were on the verge of being welcomed into American society, if somewhat grudgingly so in some corners. It was almost as if he knew that despite all the progress that had been made, there was so much more to do.

And it was almost as if he knew he was going to die the next day.

Dr. King is one of the very few people who ever lived that I consider a hero. He saw a problem, and he worked to get it fixed. He worked to get it fixed without killing anybody or directing anybody to be killed. He worked to get it fixed despite being a target himself. He worked to get it fixed despite the fact that many, many good and intelligent people refused to acknowledge that there was a problem.

Dr. King is a hero, despite his flaws. Dr. King's work saved me, a white man born of Southern heritage. It saved me from being brought up in a world where stubborn ignorance -- or benign neglect -- was considered right.

One of my lifelong dreams is to be able to ask somebody like Strom Thurmond, or Orval Faubus, or my grandfather, one simple question: "Why do you think you were right?" Racism can be justified by many arguments. All of them are wrong. They're logically wrong, and they're morally wrong. I understand that's just the Way it Was. It was still wrong. It's wrong that black children should go to substandard schools in any year, but especially wrong that it was the Way it Was in places that I have lived as late as 1971. Some younger people who think segregation was merely a vestige of America's Dark Age don't realize that it was happening -- overtly, not in the current covert way -- in their lifetimes.

(And before you start cluck-clucking about Southerners, you better know it's not restricted by geographical boundaries. I will stand by my statement that the most generally racist place I've ever been is Cincinnati. Certainly, the recent racial incidents there didn't debunk my argument.)


We're a lot closer to having made Dr. King's dream come true. We have a long, long way to go.

Dr. King would have turned 73 on Tuesday. He should still be here. He still had work to do. He should be here to be an influence on my children. He should be here to see the results of his work. He should be here to continue advancing the cause. I'm angry that he isn't.

But I'm glad that I am. And that my children will.