John Lewis . . .
I remember May 2, 1999. That’s the day I graduated from Johnson C. Smith University. All of us excited graduates piled into the Independence Arena, now the Bojangles Arena, early that morning to receive our degrees from our beloved HBCU. Some of us were still tipsy from the night before, some of us were nervous about tripping as we walked across the stage to accept that degree. And some of us were just happy that we made it through.
I was excited because four years earlier, I had no idea if my Dad would’ve been in the audience to see my walk across that stage. He had a heart transplant my freshman year. And the family kept the seriousness of his condition from me until that summer. Fast forward four years later and he was in the audience with a big smile on his face, holding my mother’s hand.
That day, our commencement speaker was Representative John Lewis. Civil rights icon, an American hero who risked his life and health so that America would live up to the promise of all men being created equal. His voice boomed through the speakers as he encouraged a class of fresh faced adults to do something with our lives and to remember the shoulders we stood upon. And then he talked about those shot gun houses.
I think that stuck with me some twenty one years later because when he talked about those houses, everyone laughed and smiled. I remember his strength as he gave a word that resonated like a sermon. I remember his smile.
I’m thankful that I was in that room. That I had a chance to hear his voice. Rest in Paradise, Mr. Lewis. And thank you for a job well done.
I was excited because four years earlier, I had no idea if my Dad would’ve been in the audience to see my walk across that stage. He had a heart transplant my freshman year. And the family kept the seriousness of his condition from me until that summer. Fast forward four years later and he was in the audience with a big smile on his face, holding my mother’s hand.
That day, our commencement speaker was Representative John Lewis. Civil rights icon, an American hero who risked his life and health so that America would live up to the promise of all men being created equal. His voice boomed through the speakers as he encouraged a class of fresh faced adults to do something with our lives and to remember the shoulders we stood upon. And then he talked about those shot gun houses.
I think that stuck with me some twenty one years later because when he talked about those houses, everyone laughed and smiled. I remember his strength as he gave a word that resonated like a sermon. I remember his smile.
I’m thankful that I was in that room. That I had a chance to hear his voice. Rest in Paradise, Mr. Lewis. And thank you for a job well done.
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