A mountain of emotion

We walked through the Civil Rights Museum in Memphis, Tennessee. And I'm not ashamed to say that this was the first time that I felt the mountain of emotion that comes with being on this trip, and I cried when I saw the hotel room in which Dr. King stayed, and died at. I cried, not only for him, but also for all those who has also died in this great struggle that had consumed America for so many years. I cried for those who were known, James Reeb and Emmett Till and Viola Liuzzo, and for those stories went unsung. And I didn't cry because I didn't think that they're legacies were getting carried on or that they had died in vain, because they did not and they are honored to this day.  I cried because there is nothing I can do to save them, I can't help them. I know that I can continue their legacy and their work, but I can't save them and I can't protect them. So when I cried for Martin Luther King Jr. It was because I was mourning the loss of a great man, and when I cried for Emmett Till I was mourning the loss of an innocent young boy, and when I cried for Viola Liuzzo I was mourning the loss of a brave mother.  But I don't feel bad about it, because its all I can do in regards to their deaths.

Isabelle King

12^th grade, City College