A Peek Inside the Confluence of History
I’ve always been aware of history being made around me. Always been able to sense a kindred spirit who would change the world and sense that something special is happening. But it doesn’t take any higher spiritual power or even harnessed intuition to know that we are living through a confluence of historical events that will be talked about for decades and even centuries and that will fundamentally change the way we America - yes, I just used that as a verb.
Today, I’m not writing in depth about this moment and movement we are in - one day I will write a book about that. This is about how even as I live through this time without a prescient filter about what will make it into the history books and what won’t, today I know I was a part of history and my 13-year old daughter got to experience it with me.
My heart was warmed and saddened this week on the passing of The Honorable John Lewis. It was warmed thinking about the memories I have of him. Standing in the wings of the Ray Charles Performing Arts Center talking before he went out to light an audience at Morehouse College on fire. Sitting in the Reagan National Airport in Washington, DC just shooting the breeze catching up on what’s going on while we were waiting for our flight back to Atlanta as many gawked and wanted photos with him. Welcoming him to Morehouse in advance of the arrival of Vice President Joe Biden. I’m forever grateful and warmed for having those moments. I am saddened for the loss of a voice, a presence that helped us remember and be better.
I’ve been fortunate through my life to develop relationships with the likes of John Lewis and Andrew Young and I never discount the power of who I am interacting with in those moments. It’s always startling when I hear “ You know Martin used to always say . . .” and after a few seconds it’s settles in that they are talking about Martin Luther the King. Honoring the access and those moments, I knew I had to be a part of this 6-day tribute to John in some way. And since I technically live in Alabama (shhh, remember we don’t talk about that out loud) I said - why not head over to Selma this morning and watch him take his last trip across the Edmund Pettus Bridge and be a part of this iconic, symbolistic moment.
Cadelyn and I took off at 7 a.m. EST with a goal of arriving in Selma by 8 a.m. CST. During the ride, I felt it incumbent to play Goodie Mob “Free” to get our minds right, but Cadelyn said we should ride in silence and be reflective. Uh, that really meant she wanted to go back to sleep while I did the driving.
But, it was a moment full of reflection, poignancy and recognition. Recognition of this man. His contribution. That movement. This moment. This movement. As you would imagine there were people of all walks, creeds and colors. We were proud to see Willie Watkins and his funeral home team represent Atlanta so well.
We were moved by proximity with which we were to the casket as it came to a rest at the end of the renowned bridge. And then, the ride back through Montgomery of 48 miles took on even more significance because it’s a long drive and I can’t even imagine walking it.
We’ve lost three civil rights giants in 2020 - Rev. Joseph Lowery, Rev. C.T. Vivian, and The Honorable John Lewis and the year’s just 1/2 way over. We’re also in the midst of a pandemic and a racial awakening. There’s irony and contradiction in this confluence of historical moments, and yet they are parts of our history that we will not be able to see the “arc” of this until much later.
I am grateful that I was able to be at an inflection point of this intersection and honor and treasure the life and work of John Lewis.
