I.
H/S E YES BEHELD THE PROMISED LAND
His eyes beheld she promised land
O f which, few men had dreamed
Though he had borne much sorrow—
He'd done much good, il seemed.
No doubt, there were times he grew weary
And wanted to sit down and rest
But, Marlin just kept on prodding
And steadfastly, did his best.
His eyes beheld the promised land
That Moses has seen before
The scars o f struggle in his soul—
But these, he so gladly bore.
He was concerned about the future—
O f men, all over the world
He couldn't stop till democracy
Was free, like banners unfurled.
’Then my living will not be in vain”
‘
r-
What Dr. King means to me .
by Kathryn Halt Bogle
The years have rolled by since
1968, the year Martin Luther King
Jr. was assassinated. It is not d iffi
cult, however, to close the eyes dnd
relive the excitement o f his deeds, to
feel again the cold chill o f fear for
his safety and to experience again
the heart-swelling pride in his ac
complishments. We cherish the to
getherness we felt for one another
because WE had a national hero
worthy o f the name—a man among
men, transcendent o f race.
The national picture o f our hero
began with Rosa Parks and Martin
Luther K ing’ s exhortation to the
Black people o f Montgomery, Ala
bama to walk instead o f riding the
segregated busses o f the city. We
listened avidly to the news over TV
and radio telling us about those
wonderful Montgomery people who
walked through sun and rain for yet
another day. They were demonstrat
ing pride and freedom in their self-
imposed walking. M a rtin Luther
King told them to “ walk on” —and
they did.
Other marches took place in other
places and, always, one searched
out the face o f Martin Luther King
and listened for his words. Courage
o f his convictions—he had that. He
also had the power to transmit it to
those who could hear the inner
voice.
W ith those marches American
Negroes became peaceful p a rtici
pants in managing their own des
tiny. Quietly and with determina
tion, never sacrificing respect for
the lives o f others, we became a unit
to reckon with on a human and in
tellectual basis in American society.
We stood tall.
We had a voice.
We had been given a dream.
Every now and then I guess we all think realistically about
that day when we will be victimized with what is life’s final
common denominator—that something we call death.
We all think about it, and every now and then I think about
my own death, and I think about my own funeral. And I don’t
think about it in a morbid sense. And every now and then I ask
myself what it is that I would want said and I leave the word
to you this morning.
If any of you are around when I have to meet my day, I don’t
want a long funeral.
And if you get somebody to deliver the eulogy, tell him not
to talk too long.
And every now and then I wonder what I want him to say.
Tell him not to mention that I have a Nobel Peace Prize.
That isn’t so important.
Tell him not to mention that I have three or four hundred
other awards—that’s not important. Tell him not to mention
where I went to school.
I’d like somebody to mention that day that Martin Luther
King Jr. tried to give his life serving others.
I’d like for somebody to say that day that Martin Luther
King Jr. tried to love somebody.
I want you to say that I tried to be right on the war question.
I want you to be able to say that day that I did try to feed the
hungry. I want you to say that day that I did try in my life to
clothe those who were naked.
I want you to say on that day that I did try in my life to visit
those who were in prison. And I want you to say that I tried to
love and serve humanity.
es, if you want to, say that I was a drum major. Say that I
was a drum major for justice. Say that I was a drum major for
peace. I was a drum major for righteousness.
And all of the other shallow things will not matter.
I won’t have any money to leave behind. I won’t have the
fine and luxurious things of life to leave behind. But I just want
to leave a committed life behind.
And that is all I want to say. If I can help somebody as I pass
along, if I can cheer somebody with a song, if I can show some
body he’s traveling wrong, then my living will not be in vain.
If I can do my duty as a Christian ought.
If I can bring salvation to a world once wrought.
If I can spread the messages as the master taught.
Then my living will not be in vain.
February, 1968
Ebenezer Baptist Church
Atlanta, Georgia
His eyes beheld the promised land
That only Moses knew
Martin, too, had a charge to keep
He too, had a job to do.
His job was all cut out for him
From the foundation o f the earth
For God had surely chosen him,
Long before the time o f his birth.
His eyes beheld the promised land
Just as it was meant to be
Martin labored in the vineyard
So that, all men might be free.
Uncomplaining, Martin gave his all
Without a doubt, he gave his best
God realized, just how tired he was
So, he just took him on home to rest.
But, Martin just kept on plodding
Mary Jean Berry
King’s first book. “ Stride Toward Freedom” ,
was published in May of 1968. While autographing
copies In New York, he was stabbed by a woman
who plunged a letter opener Into his chest.
"Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed
forever—the yearning for freedom eventually
manifests itself."
—Martin Luther King, Jr.
OregonMutual
Bank .
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Page 6 Section II Portland Observer, January 21, 1982
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