Congressman John Lewis is a true American hero. I had an opportunity as a kid to meet him. It is a story that I carry with me that changed my life. If you will indulge me, I would like to share it.
When I was younger, my dad, Judge John England, used to force me, my brother, and my sister to go to Selma. To be perfectly honest, I used to hate it but it didn’t matter. He made us go. One time in particular, it was to participate in a renactment of Bloody Sunday.
I was angry. Attitude was terrible. I made sure to make it clear to anyone that approached me that I didn’t want to be there. I kept saying that I didn’t understand the purpose and kept asking why this was necessary. Well, as fate would have it, I had a lesson to learn that day.
Everyone that knows my dad knows that he does not pass up an opportunity to embarrass you in public. He loves it. Well, he took full advantage that day. He walked me up to a smaller gentleman that was standing there waiting patiently for the March to begin.
My dad proceeded to tell this gentleman that I didn’t want to be there and that I didn’t understand the purpose of all of this. That I kept saying that this was a waste of time, it was hot, and I just wanted to go back home. In response, the gentleman said, “Let me talk to him.”
He introduced himself and said I want you to walk with me in the March today. As we walked, he described to me, in detail, what happened to him and the others on Bloody Sunday. The racial slurs, the tension, the fear, the pain and the suffering.
We talked for awhile. Eventually, as we stopped walking, he told me that a Trooper hit him across the head with a nightstick and basically knocked him out. At that point, I was speechless. I had no idea what to say or do. I remember being completely lost in the moment.
One thing I knew for sure was that I felt embarrassed, stupid and guilty. In that moment, I realized that I had nothing to complain about and that I should be grateful. I’m complaining about nothing to a man that was willing to sacrifice his life for people he didn’t even know.
As I was standing there next to him, I realized that I could still see the scar on his forehead. This may sound weird as hell but here goes. I asked, “Mr. Lewis, would you mind if I touched the scar?” I honestly don’t know what possessed me at that moment. But I asked.
And you know what he did? He bent over and let me touch the scar on his forehead. Everything became real for me at that moment. As I was touching his scar, he told that the nightstick fractured his skull and that he didn’t remember much else other than coming to at a church.
My dad, of course, still tells this story to this day. He loves it. For me? That experience changed my life. I got to walk with a true American Hero and hear him tell his own story about Bloody Sunday. And, he even let me touch his scar. Such a gentle, patient and gracious soul.
He will be missed. His spirit of selflessness and sacrifice must live on through us. We must all be committed to being willing to cause some #goodtrouble when it’s necessary. Rest in heaven Congressman John Lewis. You have most certainly earned your place.
