Stay with me, please. I am not attempting to commit the civil rights equivalent of the unpardonable sin. I wish to make a point.
My love for MLK is undeniable.
I admired King on television as a child. I remember being sent home from kindergarten on Chicago’s westside the day he was assassinated. I watched the flames of looted buildings from our third floor apartment building windows as grief stricken (and some opportunistic) people torched Chicago’s busy streets.
“Who will lead our marches now?”
“Who could challenge local, state and federal leaders now?”
“Who’d fill the shoes of assuring our dignity and legacy as Black people now?”
“He was so articulate!”
“He was the first Black we could follow”
“He could speak about voting rights for Black and still voice our ‘American’ concerns about the Viet Nam War!”
The world paused in mourning…and the hyperbole began.