The second day we picked up another “bone.” This bone symbolized the bones of each of us on the pilgrimage. We need to carry one another. We spent the morning at the Alabama River where enslaved black people were dropped off boats at the dock and sent to warehouses and the auction block in the middle of the city. I noticed the clouds … witnesses. I am not alone.
Later that day I read the name of The Reverend Bruce Klunder at the Civil Rights Movement Memorial. He was killed April 18, 1964 protesting the construction of a segregated school in Cleveland, Ohio. Another witness. And an honor to read his name aloud. The Reverend Bruce Klunder.
As I look back on our freedom road pilgrimage while moving forward with new life (like the Sankofa), I have come to the understanding that I was in the presence of a “living” cloud of witnesses. We heard the prophetic voices of Gabrielle Daniels, EJI (Equal Justice Initiative); Bob Zellner, SNCC; Charles McLaurin, SNCC, COFO; The Rev. Cleophus Smith, AFSCME Local 1733; Gail Floyd-Tyree, AFSCME Local 1733 and Venneikia Williams, Faith for Justice and Wanda, our joy-filled, joyful guide at the Dexter Avenue King Memorial Baptist Church. A living cloud of witnesses.
So, what do I know for sure? I know that the “great cloud of witnesses” consists of ALL those who have gone before us. They are watching. When I listen, when I pay attention, I receive guidance, strength, and wisdom. And as I remember the faces and hear the words in my head of the living cloud of witnesses, I know hope, I feel stronger, I can speak truth and I edge closer to being fully human.
Written by Melinda Mackey-O’Brien, a member of Lake Burien Presbyterian Church & Participant of the Freedom Road Pilgrimage “The Gospel and Politics of Race” in July, 2019.
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