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Remembering the Day.

AthenaAwakened

AthenaAwakened

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Joined
Sep 17, 2003
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5,338
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Right behind you so ... BOO!
Basic Beliefs
non-theist, anarcho-socialist
One April Afternoon

The sun rolled across the sky on beams that turned like spokes. White and bright the sun gave off light but not enough heat for a little girl child to play outside without her sweater.

While the sun reigned white in the sky, I played brown on the ground, play writing with a stick on the stoop in front of my house.

Poppa stood looking over me in the storm door in the front of my house. "Keep me safe Poppa. Watch me play Poppa. See me write my three year old name in three year old letters only three year olds can read in the invisible ink from an oak tree stick only three year olds can see."

Poppa smiled and a brown girl laughed

Poppa heard something, turned his head, turned his body and walked into the middle room of our row house.

"Where are you going Poppa? Did the phone ring Poppa? Is momma calling from work? Can I talk to her Poppa?"

I pushed the button in the storm door handle to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. My hands were small you see, but I bet if I tried harder I could push it.

Screamer.

The scream started in the south and grew as it rolled like thunder crying. Closer and louder, closer and louder, now like a choir singing in a mourning mother's wail. I pushed the button harder as the scream grew louder and closer. I held onto the door handle and with all my strength I pulled and pulled and shook the door. I bowed my head and closed my eyes and prayed the scream would stop, but it didn't. It stung me when it hit me and rolled over me and over me, louder and louder, adding voices all screaming, screaming, screaming. Oh Poppa! Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it Stop!

The button finally pushed in and the door swung back on me, almost swung over me. I cut my ankle but I did not let go and somehow I got inside. I heard the storm door slam as I ran, ran, ran to the middle room, to Poppa. Poppa would keep me safe. Poppa would make everything all right.

Poppa stood in the middle of the middle room staring at the TV set. "Poppa?" I said. "Poppa?"

He didn't answer. He just stood and stared. I looked in his eyes. His eyes were dead. But they were still staring, staring at the TV set.

I turned and looked at the TV set. The man on the TV set was talking. His eyes were dead too, but he kept on talking.

He said Dr. Martin Luther King was shot.

Dr. Martin Luther King was dead.
 
You know, I know of MLK Jr. Know that he contributed greatly to a cause. Great at speeches. There was a march or two (actually much more). Big on non-violence. And he was assassinated in an act of terrorism. I know almost nothing else about him. And until today, seemed quite fine with that ignorance, thinking I knew enough.

It kind of feels like Metatron in Dogma: "Tell a person that you're the Metatron, and they stare at you blankly. Mention something out of a Charlton Heston movie and suddenly everybody's a theology scholar!"

Mention something from Mississippi Burning, Ghost of Mississippi, etc... you are a scholar on the Civil Rights movement. Heck, don't even know the date of his death. I know Pearl Harbor, the A-Bombs, but not the death of King. Sadly flags are half-mast so often these days, you don't know what bunch of kids just died or who is being memorialized.
 
AthenaAwakened said:
One April Afternoon

While the sun rolled across the sky on beams that turned like spokes. White and bright the sun gave off light but not enough heat for a little girl child to play outside without her sweater.

While the sun reigned white in the sky, I played brown on the ground, play writing with a stick on the stoop in front of my house.

Poppa stood looking over me in the storm door in the front of my house. "Keep me safe Poppa. Watch me play Poppa. See me write my three year old name in three year old letters only three year olds can read in the invisible ink from an oak tree stick only three year olds can see."

Poppa smiled and a brown girl laughed

Poppa heard something, turned his head, turned his body and walked into the middle room of our row house.

"Where are you going Poppa? Did the phone ring Poppa? Is momma calling from work? Can I talk to her Poppa?"

I pushed the button in the storm door handle to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. My hands were small you see, but I bet if I tried harder I could push it.

Screamer.

The scream started in the south and grew as it rolled like thunder crying. Closer and louder, closer and louder, now like a choir singing in a mourning mother's wail. I pushed the button harder as the scream grew louder and closer. I held onto the door handle and with all my strength I pulled and pulled and shook the door. I bowed my head and closed my eyes and prayed the scream would stop, but it didn't. It stung me when it hit me and rolled over me and over me, louder and louder, adding voices all screaming, screaming, screaming. Oh Poppa! Make it stop! Make it stop! Make it Stop!

The button finally pushed in and the door swung back on me, almost swung over me. I cut my ankle but I did not let go and somehow I got inside. I heard the storm door slam as I ran, ran, ran to the middle room, to Poppa. Poppa would keep me safe. Poppa would make everything all right.

Poppa stood in the middle of the middle room staring at the TV set. "Poppa?" I said. "Poppa?"

He didn't answer. He just stood and stared. I looked in his eyes. His eyes were dead. But they were still staring, staring at the TV set.

I turned and looked at the TV set. The man on the TV set was talking. His eyes were dead too, but he kept on talking.

He said Dr. Martin Luther King was shot.

Dr. Martin Luther King was dead.
Click to expand...

Beautiful prose.
 
Jimmy Higgins said:
You know, I know of MLK Jr. Know that he contributed greatly to a cause. Great at speeches. There was a march or two (actually much more). Big on non-violence. And he was assassinated in an act of terrorism. I know almost nothing else about him. And until today, seemed quite fine with that ignorance, thinking I knew enough.
Click to expand...

A few years ago I got to meet someone who knew Dr. King. Who was at the famous March on Washington. Who participated. It took awhile for the connection to that event to sink in, and the fact that we've lost that. We didn't just lose the man, but the spirit of those times. The "I have a dream" speech was just one part of one day that was part of a much larger movement that led to a dramatic change, but much of that momentum is gone. I can't recall talking to anyone else in my life that had the sort of passion that my "brother of the spirit" Pete has. He was still fighting, and shouting his truth to the rafters, but the audience was much smaller. There were few young people in the crowd when he sang his songs. There were some high school kids in a music class who'd been recruited to sing with him, and I asked "do you know who that is?"

They had no idea. Then I said "you know the song Puff the Magic Dragon?" Oh, yeah. "That's the guy."

But beyond that they didn't know. They were unaware of his decades of activism. Of what he'd done to help change their lives. They know the name Martin Luther King, Jr., but what else do they know?

Not much, as far as I could tell. And that's sad.
 
I was a bit young to really remember that event but my father later said that a brave man who really cared for others was gone and the result would not be better.
 
Well now.... This is going bad fast...

King was a passionate man who led a cause for equality and against racism. He spoke that famous quote that we should be judged not by the colour of our skin but by by our character. He was not a perfect man. He was flawed in various ways, but we can remember and celebrate the good he brought. And he did.
 
Jolly_Penguin said:
Well now.... This is going bad fast...
Click to expand...
Nah, I was just venting.

King was a passionate man who led a cause for equality and against racism. He spoke that famous quote that we should be judged not by the colour of our skin but by by our character. He was not a perfect man. He was flawed in various ways, but we can remember and celebrate the good he brought. And he did.
Click to expand...
We ought to also remember the way he was treated by the very institution so many are trusting to nail Trump on charges of treason. When the FBI smells treason, they don't arrest a rich guy like Trump for making shady deals with Russia, but will conduct psychological warfare against a revolutionary socialist making speeches about equality. See COINTELPRO etc.
 
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