Critical Thinking and Language Essay Part I & II

Metaphor

A Cool Day in 1968

It was April 4, 1968 and I was 12 years old. It was spring, and cool but not disagreeable weather. The day would disrupt in burning buildings, riots, screams and heart wrenching, crying. Tears, falling, while hopes and dreams sank into the dismal cesspool of sorrow. People reached out to one another, “Why, how could this happen? Why him? Why Martin?” The dreams and hopes of so many people were shattered on that cool April Day. “Why are people burning their own buildings, businesses and neighborhoods? The fires were like the very pit of Hell, the smells of brimstone. Martin would never want his people to be destructive like this. Thank God, he can’t see this. What a way to honor his memory!” These were the sounds I heard on that cool April day. We were a sad people. He had brought hope and vision to a people clouded by despair and years of taking a back seat to so many. On the evening of April 4, 1968, while standing on the balcony of his motel room in Memphis, Tennessee, where he was to lead a protest march in sympathy with striking garbage workers of that city, Martin Luther King was assassinated.

It was reported (Freeman, 1968) that at least 110 cities experienced violence and destruction in the next few days, resulting in roughly $50 million in damage. 39 people were killed in the rioting, 34 of those people were black. The worst riots were in Chicago, Baltimore and Washington, D.C. There were over 22,000 federal troops and 34,000 National Guardsmen sent to aid local police. It was the largest call to arms ever, to deal with domestic civil disturbance. In many cities the devastation was so great that it left a permanent scar. (Freeman, 1968).

On the day of the funeral, crowds lined the streets to get a view as the procession went by. We watched on television or grabbed our newspapers. According to Freeman (1968), 50,000 to 100,000 people participated in the funeral procession. It was the saddest and grayest of days. The weather resembled our pain, and the earth cried out our agony, “Our leader is dead!” We realized however, that life goes on and that hope does reign supreme. He would be proud if he could see how far we have come, because of him and so many others. We walk in their footsteps, of those that came before us, gratefully.