Not A Dream

Last night Steph went out for a bit and I was sitting in our kitchen after dinner, getting caught up on some work email. My father-in-law, Steve, stopped in to pick up something that we had borrowed from them and we started talking for a few minutes. The day after Obama was elected, he had sent an email to both of his daughters with a brief reflection of the historic moment that had just occurred in our country. Steph showed me the email and something caught my eye that I could barely believe, so I had to ask him about it.

Turns out I wasn’t imagining things. Steve spent Martin Luther King’s 33rd birthday WITH him. King was speaking at Steve’s college and not only did he get to introduce King to the student body for the speech King made at the college, he also had dinner (cake and all) with King and about ten other people afterwards at the home of one of the college professors. This was 1962! We are talking about arguably some of the peak years of civil unrest in the United States. 

So we spoke about it for a few more minutes and Steve went on to say that in observing King, the way he spoke, the way he carried himself, there was an obvious resolve in the man to solve the problems our nation was facing through non-violent means. It wasn’t a facade when the speech was over and the lights turned down. This man lived it. Breathed it. Believed it. And Steve also mentioned that despite the resolve of King, there was also a true sadness to the man.

Amazing story. I told him and Steph that there has to be a book soon, because the work he did and the life he pursued probably deserves documentation of some kind.