King was my hero when I was in college. His murder in 1968 was the lowest point of my life up to that time, followed by the double-whammy of the murder of Robert Kennedy. (Instead of an anti-war president, we got Richard Nixon!) Many times I have cried at the recollection of those terrible days.
2007 is even worse. Far worse, in fact. Yet things have changed with me. I no longer see myself buffeted by overpowering evil. In fact, at times I no longer see myself at all. There’s an energy in my body that has no name. Rev. King had other words for this but surely understood.
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