I am so fortunate to have grown up with the parents I have.  From as far back as I can remember, they taught my 4 brothers and me to be empathetic towards those who struggle, those who suffer, and those in need.  I spent my early years in New England, then moved to Atlanta at the tender age of 10. I don't ever remember being cognizant of a person's color being a hinderance or a benefit.  I grew up truly believing that EVERYBODY was differenct than I was -- in a good way!  That foundation was a tremendous gift from my parents because, the older I get, the more I am forced to look at very real prejudice through the ugly behaviour of misguided  people, especially living in a city like Atlanta.

April 4, 1968 I was an 8-year-old, Connecticut third-grader.  I don't remember much about MLK before then, but I certainly remember the weight of that day and the days immediately following from watching TV with my family.  A great man had been murdered, and it seemed the whole world was sad.  My teen years I attended high school at Northside in Atlanta.  Some of my classmates were the children of MLK, Ralph Abernathy, Hosea Williams.  They were good, down-to-earth kids, and friends of mine. 

Until about 10 years ago, I felt it was a priviledge to work and live in such a great, diverse city as Atlanta.  But more and more my eyes were being forced open to descrimination -- descrimination BOTH ways!  I sensed more rudeness on the roads, in the malls, at work.  At first it shocked me, but that's a funny thing about age -- you, hopefully, become wiser through your experiences, and your instincts cause you to react more quickly.  I had become bitter about it.  I can't stand unfairness.

This past Summer, my nephew Sean came to visit for a week before he started his freshman year at college, and tops on his list was to see the MLK Center.  I still can't believe I had never been.  I, honestly, wasn't expecting much -- I certainly wasn't expecting to be touched so deeply.  You are greeted by an amazing Folk-Art mural depicting the various phases of the life of Martin Luther King.  It is so painfully obvious by the length of the mural, that his life was drastically cut short.  When you enter the building, you are encouraged to watch a film about MLK's life to set-up your visit.  I was blown away by how much I had forgotten about King's life -- that he skipped a couple of grades in high school, and began attending Morehouse College at the age of 15.  He graduated with a degree in Sociology, then attended seminary where he graduated with a Bachelor of Divinity degree. He became a pastor in Montgomery at age 25, while parenting 4 children with his wife, Coretta.  He THEN received his Doctor of Philosophy from Boston University at age 26!  Through a mentor MLK was influenced about the teachings of Mahatma Ghandi, and a 30-year-old King  was profoundly effected by a visit to Ghandi's birthplace in India. His craving for education, along with the way he was raised by his family, set the course for greatness in such a short amount of time.  If  King was able to accomplish all this and so much more before he was assassinated at aged 39, imagine what he might have become.  That his message, most importantly through non-violent words and actions, of insisting that all men be treated equally seems to be getting lost is a tragedy, and a terrible waste of time.  Being open and experiencing The King Center as an middle-aged adult really softened me.  I knew how my nephew was feeling about it as he is just becoming an adult, because I had felt that way once. 

If you've never been, I encourage you to spend several relaxing hours at The King Center.  It's really a treasure, and it's FREE!  I know that I will take some time Monday to remember the Reverand and Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr. , and I will pray for more empathy and tolerance for those who aren't as blessed as I am.