ATLANTA (AP) — Five years ago, as they helped break
ground on what would become the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial on the National
Mall in Washington on a cold November day, U.S. Rep. John Lewis, Ambassador
Andrew Young and the Rev. Jesse Jackson suddenly broke down in tears.
With Lewis leaning on his shovel, and Jackson and
Young leaning on each other, they wept for how far they had come and for what
they had lost.
They mused together over their last staff meeting
before they went to Memphis in April 1968 — a journey that would end in King's
assassination. The memory dredged up feelings no one else could fully share.
"We just looked at each other," Jackson
said. "It was a different moment for us."
This weekend, the trio, along with the Rev. Joseph
Lowery and many other lesser known soldiers who worked alongside King in the
struggle for justice and equality for black Americans plan to come together
again, to dedicate the monument built in his honor. In the more than four
decades since the death of the civil rights icon, Jackson, Lewis, Lowery and
Young have remained tied to King's legacy — and to each other.
In friendships forged during the civil rights
struggle, their common link was a commitment to the cause and to King. They all
admit that King was the reason they became friends, and that they drifted apart
after his death. While the four remain friends, they come together now more for
funerals than festivities.
But the dedication of the King Memorial on the
National Mall, scheduled Sunday, will be a time of reflection, fellowship and
celebration. It is yet another reminder to them all that they are brothers,
bound by history.
"All of us had been to jail, all of us had
lived under the threat of violence," said Jackson. "We all had that
acute sense of social justice. None of us had life insurance, or a retirement
plan. But we had each other. And we still do."
___
Of the four, Lowery knew King the longest. The two
worked together during the 1955 Montgomery bus boycott and later co-founded the
Southern Christian Leadership Conference. Lewis met King three years later,
while a college student, and worked with King through the Student Nonviolent
Coordinating Committee. Young joined SCLC in 1960, and Jackson came aboard five
years later.
Despite whatever else they may have had in common,
it was King who united them.
"He was the glue that held us together,"
said Lewis. "The movement, it was dominated by religious leaders and
ministers ... a lot of those people had egos. It was only someone like a Martin
Luther King Jr. who could keep us together."
Jackson likened the relationship to bond among
football players: Strangers from different towns coming together, wearing the
same uniform, winning and losing as a unit.
"You become together what you never were
apart," he said. "I have such a great appreciation for those guys and
I'm so grateful we made the choices we made. We care deeply for each other.
We've been through a unique experience."
After King's assassination in April 1968, the glue
was gone, and the men were scattered to the four winds.
"To be honest, we're not that close,"
Young, 79, said. "We were held close together by him. But as soon as he
passed, we each went our own way. I thought that was going to kill the
movement, but it actually diversified it. We all did something, in our own way.
And we've all been supportive of each other."
___
Lowery remained at the SCLC, where he served under
the late Rev. Ralph David Abernathy before he became Abernathy's successor.
Lowery went on to become the SCLC's longest-serving president, at the helm
longer than King and Abernathy combined.
A portrait of Lowery and Obama at Lowery's home
bears the words: "I was kept alive to be a witness." Lowery, who
turns 90 in October, was not at the groundbreaking and will see the monument
for the first time this week.
Jackson left SCLC and started his own group,
Operation PUSH — which later became the Rainbow PUSH Coalition — dedicated to
helping the poor and minorities. He also jumped into politics, twice seeking
the Democratic presidential nomination in the 1980s.
Each has honored King's legacy in his own way.
"They had a right to choose their own
paths," said Lowery. "We went our separate ways and remained friends
with separate responsibilities and callings. I was lonely there (at SCLC), but
they were doing their own thing."
Jackson, now 69, said their common faith,
commitment to social justice and dedication to King's legacy kept them together
even as they went their different ways.
"We were determined not to let one bullet kill
the whole movement," he said. "We never stopped fighting."
And they never stopped getting together, though the
reunions became less frequent. Jackson noted that year after year, the foursome
still somehow ends up in Selma, Ala., site of the 1965 "Bloody
Sunday" march that horrified the nation and turned the tide in favor of
passing the Voting Rights Act.
Lowery has backed Young, Lewis and Jackson at
different times during their political endeavors, and the men have stood
shoulder to shoulder with SCLC and for other civil rights-related battles.
Three of the four call Atlanta home. (Jackson is
based in Chicago, but frequents Atlanta.) Lewis, Lowery and Young live in the
same southwest Atlanta neighborhood, but rarely run into each other there.
"I guess it's like being involved in a
battle," Lewis, 69, said. "We all fought the good fight. We can talk
about it, but we don't have time to look back, because there's still so much to
be done."
___
The four men are not often together when the King
federal holiday rolls around each January, as each of them is a sought-after
speaker for holiday events around the country. When they're in the same room
for funerals or events related to the movement, they are not always seated
together, but are usually acknowledged as a group.
Such will likely be the case in Washington in the
days leading up to the monument's unveiling — if the dedication takes place as
scheduled. With Hurricane Irene threatening to inundate the nation's capital,
the National Park Service has considered postponing it, but hadn't reached a
decision by Wednesday afternoon. The Martin Luther King Jr. National Memorial
Project says it plans to hold the dedication, rain or shine, but is making
preparations in case plans have to change.
The King Memorial is scheduled to be dedicated
Sunday, the 48th anniversary of King's "I Have a Dream Speech." He
delivered it not far from where the monument stands between the Jefferson and
Lincoln memorials. Aug. 28 is also the 56th anniversary of the murder of Emmett
Till, a killing that became a major catalyst for the civil rights movement, and
the day three years ago that Barack Obama was named the Democratic nominee for
president of the United States.
As King is honored on an anniversary freighted with
history, the four men all share a desire for the monument to be a living
legacy, not one trapped in stone.
"We cannot freeze his work in a statue,"
Jackson said. "The statue is a memorial that we might remember the
struggle. He was shot into immortality. The way in which he died illuminated
his work and his worth. We must not allow people to stop at the memorial and
read his poetry and ignore his policies."
Lewis, whose office is not far from the memorial,
said he has been overwhelmed looking at the statue and reflecting on King's
quotes engraved into the granite.
"Dr. King spoke about (Abraham Lincoln), the
emancipator," Lewis said. "Dr. King was an emancipator, he was a
liberator. He liberated not just a people, but a nation. His message is still
liberating people."
Lowery said King now takes his place among the
country's fathers.
"I think it is appropriately placed,"
said Lowery. "He introduced a new America. It's easier to build a monument
than a movement. This is a joyous occasion, but it's not a period. It's a
comma. Our achievements are monumental, but that doesn't mean the job is
finished."
Copyright
2011 The Associated Press.
(AP
Photo/Lauren Victoria Burke, file)
