I remember it clearly. I was twenty-four years old, married, and living out in Raleigh. This period of time in Memphis was typically good. Although, we were recognizing the injustices around us facing the black community; but, there was so many of the white people that were products of years, and years, and years of their environment’s attitudes. I will never forget the time that my family went on a bus ride. Of course, in that time, the black people would get on and go all the way to the back of the bus. Then, on the news, they would “complain” about was the fact that they had to do that and should not have to move to the back of the bus. They would also speak out about other things like that, such as, the separate water fountains and separate restrooms.
In my heart of hearts, I began to question my parents. “They’re people, why do they have to do that?” I would ask, and my parents became very upset with me. They had not felt like I needed to be questioning things like that. I had quickly learned that that was not the thoughts and attitude that, if I wanted to keep a harmonious family, that I needed to question very often. Even so, I did a great deal, silently of course.
In the mitts of all this, for the most part, it was a good time here in Memphis. Memphis was of one the cleanest, safest places I have been in the country that you could want to live. A typically day for me was working going to work by bus. Since I did ride the bus, I noticed that changes taking place on a daily basis; although, with that, there was never ever any problems directly in front of me. I never witnessed anything “wrong” that would concern me, but of course, I was reading the newspaper, watching the news, and the things that were happening. I was very much aware of that.
Along those lines, my husband was also a police officer and a gentleman who was a great deal like my parents. He was a very strong-minded man, who I have no idea how I managed to marry, except that he was, in fact, very much like my parents. I suppose, even though I had these thoughts of “right” and “wrong,” that I was not strong enough to stand up and be one of those that went out and worked on these problems. I wasn’t strong enough, at the time, to be one of those freedom-righters. I respect those people. I admire those people and their strength to be able to do that.
So, I mean, I had the growing concerns that everyone had, but I was more concerned about that I was sorry that this had to come to this point; that it had to happen this way and that it could not be worked out otherwise. I do know that I remember that more and more, especially now with the violence. Violence that people feel like that they have to have violence to have their way, and to get attention. I just remember Martin Luther King more and more. I think to myself, “Oh my goodness, would he be disappointed?” What a different story, what a different leadership this man was than to even the attitudes of or higher leaders and our country. I think that instead of diffusing as Dr. King did, the “need” for violence they encourage through their words. So, I was disappointed. I was angry, and I could see certain white personalities being behind this type of thinking. This man [Dr. King] had talked about nothing but peace. His actions never reflected anything except peace but wanting to have his race recognized like everyone else.
I was shocked, angry, and sad, even though I hadn’t displayed any of this to my immediate family. They would never have understood what I was feeling. They never would have understood what I believed about this whole situation. Like them, I was a product of my environment. During that period of time, we, as young ladies, were brought up that there were certain areas they we went go to, talked about, and certain areas where talked about, and certain areas where we didn’t. At least it was that way within my environment. The day King had been assassinated, as far as I was concern, was a very, very sad day. I know that there had been people around me that disappointed me because of the lack of sadness they were experiencing over his death. Almost, happiness over it, but that was the way it was, within my environment, back then. It is absolutely nothing I am proud of. Overall, the biggest thing, that I remember, was the concern about possible riots in the near future. Of course I was married to a police officer, so he was involved and had gotten caught up within all of that. As far as the immediate change of the city, there wasn’t really any at all. Is was most about any riots that could happen, and of course, who killed Dr. King. I wasn’t surprised at all regarding the concern over King’s death.
During the night King had been shot, the whole city was quite tense. I was currently at home, but my husband was not. He was out on the force. I had mixed emotions about that, I didn’t want to happen to him. I remember dealing with tenseness and sadness. My view of Martin Luther King hadn’t change. I was impressed by him. They constantly kept trying to bring out all kinds of things about his personal life. He obviously wasn’t perfect, and perhaps some of his personal decisions were not exactly the right decisions; but that is true with everybody. Even still, my feelings toward him, his goals, his beliefs, and all he was trying to accomplish was admiration. I was just sad there he was no longer there to continue his work. To this day, I often think, if he had lived, how much more would have been accomplished in a peaceful manner. I mean, how much better our country would have been, if he had lived?
Dr. King’s teachings were so profound, that they have not gone away. If anything, they have grown. It had taken quite a while for people’s attitudes change about the problems he was trying to resolve. I believe he did so much more, and accomplished so much more with the way he conducted his teachings than these militants. Arguably, there has been anyone who has accomplished more than he has.