(Chicago Sun-Times) I already miss Coretta Scott King. She was a history maker whose contributions to American society and the world deserve close study. I first met Mrs. King when I was in 12th grade and she was giving a lecture on civil rights at a university in my home city of Los Angeles. I didn’t really know what to expect. I was simply excited to be in the same building as her. She was a living legend whose face I knew and legacy I studied. When she walked onstage, I was struck by her natural beauty and sophistication. She was graceful and debonair, and her energy radiated throughout the room. Her voice was soft yet powerful, and she was divinely articulate.
To paraphrase, Mrs. King’s message centered on taking principled stances against unruly authority using the weapon of non-violence as the sword and faith in God as the shield. I left her presentation ready to save the world. On my way home from her lecture, I was pulled over by the Los Angeles police for no apparent reason — something that most black men in L.A. were quite accustomed to. Rather than get angry or sass with the officer who readily pointed his 9mm gun at my head while asking me for my driver’s license and registration, I simply smiled and said, “No problem, officer.” Although my heart was racing, I could not restrain myself from breaking into thunderous laughter — not only was the officer funny-looking in a dopey way, but I could not overlook the irony of being racially profiled after attending Mrs. King’s talk. Her words had a calming effect on my spirit and hence reaction; soon after, the officer begrudgingly let me go.
About six years later, I met Mrs. King in Gabon, West Africa, while attending the second of several African/African-American Summit meetings organized by the late and great Rev. Leon Sullivan. Several black dignitary types attended the conference, and it was at that time I introduced myself to black America’s first lady. Her demeanor was as warm and classy as I remembered. She still had a priceless smile and graceful spirit. She was pleasant and said very little, but her radiant glare and slight nod communicated plenty. I knew then that I was in the presence of a queenly soul. It was at that very moment that I understood why and how her husband, the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., became so prominent and powerful. Mrs. King did not exemplify the cliche ”behind every great man is a great woman,” but rather epitomized the notion that ”behind every great man is a greater woman.”
She supported Dr. King before he was a known quantity. She was the pillar that kept the King family together and Dr. King’s backbone strong during the tumultuous civil rights era by juggling the roles of wife, mother, adviser, nurturer, psychologist and secretary. She stood by his side when he was cursed at, spat on, beaten and had their family’s lives threatened. She was there when he received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964 and marched with him on numerous occasions, most notably in Selma, Ala., in 1965. Mrs. King even successfully lobbied for a national holiday in his honor in 1986. After his death, she raised four children alone and honored his legacy by supporting an untold number of causes and initiatives, including the founding of the Martin Luther King Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change in Atlanta. Without her resolute support of Dr. King, the civil rights movement would have taken on a different shape and character and America would not have advanced as it did. America owes Mrs. King a debt of gratitude. Although Congress recently made provision for a statue of Rosa Parks to be erected on Capitol Hill, the bust of Martin Luther King Jr. in the Rotunda is presently the only figure of an African American in Congress. I believe Congress should erect one of Coretta Scott King next to her husband, because her contribution to American society was just as significant, if not more so. She was a history maker in her own right.
