upended
Today is an extraordinary day in history. On April 4, 1968, social activist Martin Luther King, Jr. lost his life for the cause of civil rights and injustice. Just as he was leaving his room at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee, he stopped to speak from the second-floor balcony to the crowd gathered. Moments later, a bullet shot from the gun of James Earl Ray into King's neck sparked a new unexpected dimension to the 1960s.
The previous day, King had given one of the most captivating speeches of his life, known now as the "Mountaintop" speech (Part 1 & Part 2), which had peculiar timing according to his advisors at the time. King spoke as if this time in his life was his peak, and that he had seen all the he could do. The speech itself, incredible, has King giving both his humor and his seriousness. It's perplexing to listen to on the other side of history, as if he knew that his death was upon him. As the recounting of his travels and his time in the movement and the talk of threats that were coming toward King continued to rally those gathered to listen on April 3, the actions of James Earl Ray on April 4 brought forth reactions to a divided country that took decades to heal, and in some areas, they still have not mended. As news broke of King's death on radio and through news outlets and by word of mouth, mourning began throughout the country. But far worse, riots broke out, and people lashed out on their own communities in anger, torching businesses, and destroying their towns. The pain they felt could no longer be withheld inside. Massive riots erupted in cities like Trenton, New Jersey, Baltimore, Maryland, and Washington, D.C.
In Washington, D.C., the Shaw, Columbia Heights, Petworth, H Street NE Corridor, and U Street, were historically African-American neighborhoods, despite the end of segregation. As the news spread, riots exploded in Shaw, U Street, the H Street NE Corridor, and Columbia Heights, and protests built up Georgia Avenue. The city burned brightly, and Lyndon B. Johnson nationalized the guard to protect the city from complete destruction. D.C. radio icon Petey Greene launched onto the radio and pleaded that people stay in their homes and continue the non-violent mission of MLK, no matter how angry they may be. He encouraged they call in and express their anger over the phone. He left the lines open all night.
The damage done to Washington, D.C. took years to restore. In Shaw/U Street, the only business left standing after the riots was the Ben's Chili Bowl (and everyone who works there will tell you proudly about it if it ever slows down enough to do so). The destruction caused property values to sharply decline, and racial tensions continued to separate white and black by neighborhoods. In the past decade, many of these neighborhoods have just recently been able to redevelop. U Street, with Ben's Chili Bowl as an anchor, is now a hotspot for nightlife. Columbia Heights experienced redevelopment, and now holds the only mall-like structure within the district limits, providing district residents the opportunity to shop and spend dollars within their place of residence and not in Maryland or Virginia. Many neighborhoods are still struggling to survive and put themselves back on the map, but they are determined not to fail.
King said:
One of the great liabilities of history is that all too many people fail to remain awake through great periods of social change. But today our very survival depends on our ability to stay awake, to adjust to new ideas, to remain vigilant, and face the challenge of change.
The spirit of Martin Luther King, Jr. is continually alive and well in the city of Washington, D.C. As King pushed on in his darkest of days, so has D.C. The district has its limitations and its failures, but it has its successes and prospects to launch it into more than just the nation's capital. The district and its residents have continued for more than 40 years to rebuild and redevelop the city to its former and new glory. The city has more to offer than just the federal government, and the people here are committed to prove it.
sweet sweet home
I left Alabama in 1961 and never went back to live. Not because I don’t like it, but because living outside it, I can see it more objectively. –William Christenberry
I've told people before that I have a love/hate relationship with Alabama. Jokingly, I tell them that I love it when I'm away, and I hate it when I'm there. It's halfway right, but mostly wrong, too.
While I shouldn't joke about how my home state, there is a lot that I feel really proud that the state has accomplished. For one, I am in love with the governor right now. Gov. Bob Riley is the best governor the state has had since Big Jim Folsom. Of course, Big Jim was pretty crooked, so technically, Riley is the cleanest governor so far that the state might have had… pretty much ever. But, Riley has brought some amazing industry to the state, and most of all, he has put honesty, honor, and dignity back into the governor's mansion, something that has been missing for far too long in the state of Alabama (plus, he wears cowboy boots with his suits, and rides a motorcycle). I'm also excited to see about the prospects of 2010 for the Governor's Mansion. It will be interesting to see what kind of impact Artur Davis can make on the state and its voting habits.
I grow incredibly homesick at times… with all of my family there, it is harder and harder to be away and to see my niece growing up just by pictures seems so unfair. It's difficult to have lived there and know everything about daily lives to just talking a few times a week and the conversations are short-lived. There are also people there that I have dear friendships with that I have really grown to miss our connections. While I have been gone, one friend has birthed a beautiful son, a few have gotten married, and others, well, I'm not gonna lie, I miss their stories. I miss the lunch gatherings at regular spots. I miss getting to see friends do stand-up. I miss the BBQ. Oh, dear sweet Lord, do I miss the BBQ. I mean, not as much as my family, of course, but I can call and talk to friends… there's no connection with BBQ here. None. Nada.
At the same time, when I do go home, because of my seeming "black sheep" status in the family, or even in the state, I feel out of place because I've been in D.C. and lived a life completely separate from that of everyone in Alabama. There's a sort of disconnect that happens at gatherings and functions. Once again, it becomes small talk, which I can't stand. Much of it is my fault, because I become so busy that I don't stay in touch with friends, but it's only half my fault. Still, it's painful to have a disconnect in a place that I consider my home. I sincerely want to know what is going on with people and their lives. Sadly, instead of conversation, we've let technology in the form of Facebook and Twitter replace those meaningful exchanges. I love knowing what is going on, and it's helpful, but a simple message on the 'book or a tweet in 140 characters can't exactly divulge every emotion of the heart.
In retrospect, I am on and off the fence with Christenberry's view of Alabama. Being away from it, I don't know that I can always see it more objectively. There are times when I can, and times when I can't. It's like a power switch. Perhaps I didn't stay long enough before I departed to have a connection to be able to hold my objectivity. Maybe that it why I yearn to visit so much, and I long for home much more than many of those around me. Or, maybe Christenberry is off base, and has no idea… and we are all critics of our home, no matter where this life takes us. It's what we do with that criticism, positive or negative, that shapes our viewpoints.
Either way, I suppose that since I have been such a nomad in my life, I will be forced to live by the old adage, "home is where you are." And, I need to learn to get used to it. But, I secretly still count down the days when I get to visit my dear sweet home Alabama.
cat-like reflexes
Today, my friend Wade sent over images of celebrities and cats, which I loved. One in particular stayed with me, though… mostly because of the quote that followed it.
Here is a link to Brigitte Bardon, coaxing a cat across the tightrope.
I love her quote on the page:
"I really am a cat transformed into a woman… I purr. I scratch. And sometimes I bite."
It's true… I feel like my life is like that. Sometimes I bite, but I don't mean anything by it most of the time, and I usually regret it later, and forget why I did it 10 minutes later.
