My Visit to the JFK Library - The March on Washington, 50 Years Later

Today happens to be the 67th Birthday of Bill Clinton, the forty-second President of the United States. I am glad that he is still around and thriving. I hope to meet him someday and have a photo with him. It would be nice if he could also sign my copy of his memoirs entitled My Life. Anyways, I have chosen this day to share another important memory of an event in my life that to me is of significant importance. As I said in another post, to everyone else who may be reading or were even at the event along with me, it may not seem all that important. Historically, it is not important, and it will not be written in the annals of history. However, this event was one that is deeply sketched into my memories. I am typing and posting this now as the memories are still fresh in my mind. I must warn you this is meticulously detailed and quite a lengthy read. I hope you'll enjoy reading it.

Yesterday, I traveled by train to the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum, the nation's official memorial dedicated to the memory and legacy of the thirty-fifth president of the United States, located in Boston, Massachusetts. The purpose of the visit was to be a part (small part, only as an observer) of an afternoon conference focusing on the March on Washington, which occurred almost fifty years ago on August 28, 1963. As a person who enjoys reading and studying history, I had been looking forward to this for quite some time. I had registered for this event over the internet on the library's website several months before.

It was quite a small challenge just to get there. The night before I had a tough time sleeping for some unknown reason. In order to try to sleep, I watched a video called "John Lewis Marches On", which depicts Bill Moyers interviewing Congressman John Lewis, who would be the keynote speaker at the event I was looking forward to attending, about the March on Washington. I would tell you what the interview was about, but I will mention it in another paragraph since Congressman Lewis outlined what he said in the interview with Moyers, in the speech he was going to give the next day. I probably shouldn't have watched it because I still couldn't sleep as it held my interest. I finally fell asleep at about 4:30 in the morning, listening to a video of another forum that the JFK Library posted on YouTube.

Although I set my alarm for 7:00 in the morning, I woke up several minutes after 8:00 in the morning. I quickly got dressed in a black suit, white dress shirt, and a patriotic tie with depicting small portraits of George Washington, Abraham Lincoln, and John F. Kennedy on an American flag as I had done before a little more than four years ago for my meeting with Senator John Kerry, who had assumed the office of Secretary of State six months and eighteen days before. Before I went out the door, I only had a banana to eat and I checked to see if I was missing anything before I left the house. I had my wallet, my keys, and my cellphone with me. I also had a book-bag containing some Adventist Review magazines, black jeans, and sneakers. After making this confirmation, I locked the door behind me and walked to the train station. The journey from the place I was staying to the train station in Framingham took thirty-one minutes until my arrival as it was 1.6 miles. I walked as fast as I could so I would not be able to miss the train, which I thought was supposed to arrive at 9:15 in the morning.

I arrived just before 9:00 and I asked a person waiting there what time the train would be arriving. I want him to confirm that it was 9:15 so that I could feel relieved that I had arrived on time. He politely pointed me to a posted schedule, which showed that the arrival time was actually at 9:50. The day before I called my friend Jennifer, an old college friend who I recently got back in touch with, to schedule a time to meet in Boston. She looked online for the train schedule on my behalf and I thought she said 9:15 hence my early arrival. So instead of arriving on time, I had arrived thirty-five minutes early. With some time on my hands, I thought about buying something to eat. I looked inside my wallet and saw that there was only 60 dollars. I began to think. 20 dollars ($17.00 to be exact) would buy me a round trip, I wanted to help Jennifer with gas so I would offer twenty, so that left me with just twenty. I wanted to buy the book that Congressman Lewis had written and was being promoted entitled "March" and I didn't know how much that would cost me. Most newly released books today cost a little more than twenty dollars. Also, what if I needed a little more cash to eat lunch? I certainly wasn't going to ask Jennifer. For me, it was quite a dilemma.

I then thought to call my dad to ask him if he could take me to Boston. I called him a few times before he finally answered. I made my request to him and told me he couldn't, but he decided to meet me at the train station to give me forty dollars. I also asked him if he could bring some food. "I only have fruits," he said. "That's fine," I replied, "I'll take anything at this point." He arrived at around 9:45 and to my surprise, instead of giving me forty dollars, he gave me sixty. This totaled to one hundred and twenty dollars and I was extremly grateful. He also handed me a grocery bag containing two bananas, an apple, two slices of bread, and two slices of vegetarian cheese. We chatted for a bit and then we parted ways since he mentioned that he had a busy day ahead of him. After he left, I had my breakfast, minus the apple that I decided to save for another day.

The train had arrived just in time, and I quickly went on board. I paid my fare as I sat quietly in my seat. The journey itself would take about 40 minutes so to pass the time, I read some articles from the Adventist Review magazines already in my bag. The 40 minutes came and went, and the train finally arrived at South Station in Boston. Upon arrival, I immediately went to take the commuter rail on the Red Line, inbound for JFK/UMass. I had a little trouble trying to make sense of paying the $2.50 fare since they were now using machines. I had not traveled alone to the JFK library or anywhere in Boston by train for that matter since 2003 so this was quite new to me. After the quick and small hurtle, I went to the Red Line and waited for about eleven minutes for the train to arrive. I chatted with a gentleman, also waiting there, who worked for the airlines and was returning home from his shift.

The train soon arrived, and I soon found my myself at the Red Line JFK/UMass station. The shuttle bus was already waiting for passengers to get on board and quickly ran so I wouldn't miss the bus. Of course, it wouldn't leave for several minutes, but I didn't know that. Actually, the shuttle runs every 20 minutes. Anyways, as I ran, a woman whom I passed also started running. Perhaps she thought she would be late also.  I went on board the bus and I quickly noticed a gentleman dressed casually reading a paperback copy of "The Path Between the Seas: The Creation of the Panama Canal, 1870-1914" written by one of my favorite authors: David McCullough. The journey to the library was reasonably short, but it seemed like an eternity to me. I just couldn't wait to get there. The bus had arrived at 11:30 and I entered into the library to get in line and confirm my registration. I knew that I wouldn't have time to visit the museum that day, but I hope to do so some time next week (hopefully on August 28, the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington, assuming I have the day off from work).

I soon called Jennifer and told her I had arrived at the library. She mentioned that she would be there at about 12:15 in the afternoon. I went into a part of the building named after Stephen Edward Smith, who was the husband of Jean Ann Kennedy and brother-in-law of John F. Kennedy, Robert F. Kennedy, and Edward M. Kennedy, who said at the Dedication of the Stephen E. Smith Center at the library on "It is particularly appropriate that we dedicate this beautiful new building to Steve Smith. For thirty years, he was the cornerstone of the Kennedy family – the cornerstone of our campaigns, the cornerstone of our lives in so many other ways." I went to the auditorium where the forum was to be held. I dropped off my bookbag at a seat to save it and as I was going to the library store, I saw a lady using her walker, wearing a pin that said, "I march for jobs and freedom". I knew then that she had been a particpant of the March. I then said to her as I extended my hand to her, "I'm glad to meet someone who was actually there." "Yes," she then said something like, "I'm actually trying to locate people from Mass who went there." She then pointed to two gentlemen behind me. "I'm going to ask them," she said and then she inquired, "Were you there too?" I couldn't believe that she had asked that. I wasn't offended, but I wondered if I really looked that old. I chuckled and replied, "No, I was born in the eighties." Then we parted ways and walked to the store.

On my way to the library store, I noticed a display case just outside the auditorium and looked at some of the artifacts encased behind the glass. Among the artifacts, I noticed a handwritten note card written in red ink, in which President Kennedy wrote those notes phonetically to help him pronounce the foreign words, which became the most memorable phrases from his speech at the Rudolph Waltz Platz in Berlin: "I am a citizen of Berlin", "I am a citizen of Rome", "Let them come to Berlin." I could imagine President Kennedy reading the speech on that day of June 26, 1963, "Freedom is indivisible, and when one man is enslaved, all are not free...All free men, wherever they may live, are citizens of Berlin, and, therefore, as a free man, I take pride in the words..." and then he would look at his handwritten note card and say, "'Ich bin ein Berliner.'" It gave me chills just to see that this note card was used to assist him in encouraging the people of Germany.

I went to the library store to browse through the items being sold there. The store was a lot smaller than I remembered it would be. I purchased a small JFK campaign button for seventy-five cents. After the purchase, I went to the lobby to wait for Jennifer. I made conversation with a woman sitting at a table representing C-SPAN. C-SPAN would be broadcasting the program live on C-SPAN 3. I asked the lady if she knew Brian Lamb, the founder, executive chairman, and now retired CEO of C-SPAN. She said that she did and that he treats everyone like he would a president. They were giving some free materials, so I happily took a black tote bag inscribed: "AH American History TV C-SPAN 3", two rulers that depicted a promotion for C-SPAN First Ladies: Influence & Image program, two bookmarks, and a few pens. As I signed up for e-mail updates, I mentioned that although I was young for my age, I enjoyed watching programs on C-SPAN. She replied that I would be surprised as to how many young people did the same.

As I was also making conversation with two ladies that visited from Canada, I saw Jennifer's purple car approaching the building. I excused myself and quickly made my way outside. I called her cellphone and when she picked up; I told her I was right behind her. She went around again and told me to get in the car. She gave me a quick tutorial on how to use the camera and then dropped me off again at the library. I need to mention that I am deeply indebted to Jennifer for allowing me to use her camera since I don't have one. Without her and her generosity, I would not be able to capture the moments I was able to cherish and share with people on facebook. Indeed because of her, I will share these images if I ever make a presentation on civil rights in a classroom if I ever get back to school. I can only hope that one day it will become a reality.

I entered the building again and went to the auditorium where the forum would be held. There were Civil Rights songs playing to set the mood. At 12:30 p.m., Thomas J. Putnam, the Director of the John F. Kennedy Presidential Library and Museum, stepped onto the stage to introduce the 1964 documentary entitled The March, directed by James Blue for the United States Information Agency (USIA). On the screen, I saw black and white footage of A. Philip Randolph giving a statement at what might have been a press conference. "Negros want the same things that whites citizens possess. All of their rights. They want no reservations. They want complete equality - social, economic, and political," he declared in his baritone voice, "and no force under the sun can stem and block and stop this civil rights revolution now underway." Next, I saw students sitting together, clapping and singing "Keep your eyes on the prize. Hold on, Hold on!" Many of them were about my age or perhaps younger. The narrator spoke about how people of different diversities came from all over the nation just to attend the March on Washington. There was footage of people making lunches for the March, which volunteers worked for over two days and nights.

Then, it showed a diverse crowd singing "We Shall Overcome" as people were moving boxes. People were given pins that said, "I march for jobs and freedom" and that everyone who was going to march wore one. I remember watching footage of people praying in a church, people seated in buses traveling to Washington D.C., a person testing the microphone: "1, 2, 3, 4, 5. This is an audio test." On the night before the march, few people arrived. The leaders thought they had failed. All they had to do was wait for the next day. I saw footage of people arriving by train, dressed as though going to church. Some of them were singing "We shall not be moved." There was footage of Joan Baez on the National Mall singing "We Shall Overcome", Odetta singing "I'm on way." An announcer then declares a march to the Lincoln Memorial. There were people from all walks of life walking and singing together in harmony. It made me wonder what it would have been like to have been there and to experience that atmosphere.
At the Lincoln Memorial, everyone at the March is assembled. Marian Anderson, an African-American contralto and one of the most celebrated singers of the twentieth century, is introduced and then sings, "He's got the whole worlds in His hands." Then footage of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. at the podium appeared on the screen. It showed a small portion of the speech that would soon be seized into history. "I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today. . ... This is our hope. This is the faith that I will go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope." 

It had a powerful impact on those who were in the room with me. When that portion of the speech was over, everyone in the room applauded. I was choked up and held back tears. I still wonder why I felt that way since I did not live through that time. I never experienced racism firsthand, but yet the speech was so moving that I almost cried. The film then showed the crowd, linking arm in arm, singing "We Shall Overcome". Then A. Philip Randolph appeared on the screen once more, declaring, "I think history was written today which will have its effect on coming generations, with respect to our democracy, with respect to our ideals, with respect to the great struggle of man, God, freedom, and human dignity." Then the film concludes with footage of people sleeping on a bus, which I presume were on their way back to their homes to continue the struggle, as the narrator speaks: "There were many who praised this day and said that there had been a new awakening in the conscience of the nation. Others called it a national disgrace. In the wake of this day, more violence was to come, more hatred, but in the long history of man's cruelty to man, this was a day of hope." A crowd sings, "Freedom" as it fades to black.

As the film ended and as the audience was clapping, I noticed Congressman Lewis entering the room and taking his seat. At 1:00, Mr. Putnam went on the stage to introduce Benjamin Swan, the State Representative from Springfield, MA for almost twenty years and a long-time member of the NAACP. I shook his hand when I was in line to confirm registration. He actually attended the March at the age of 30. After giving some brief remarks, an excerpt from a film called "Eye on the Sixties: The Iconic Photography of Rowland Scherman", directed by Chris Szwedo was shown. Scherman had actually covered the March as the primary photographer for USIA. At 1:30, the people participating in the panel discussion were introduced and made their way to the stage. They were historians Clayborne Carson (professor of history at Stanford University and director of the Martin Luther King Jr. Research and Education Institute) and Peniel E. Joseph (Professor of History at Tufts University, Author, and founder of a growing subfield in American History and Africana Studies that he has characterized as "Black Power Studies"), Elaine Jones (prominent civil rights leader, attorney, and activist. She joined the NAACP Legal Defense and Educational Fund (LDF) in 1970 and in 1993 became the organization's first female director-counsel and president), Harris Wofford (special assistant to President Kennedy from 1960 to 1962 and then Democratic Senator from Pennsylvania from 1991 to 1995), and veteran journalist Callie Crossley (a host of several programs on PBS) would be leading the panel discussion.

I can't tell you all that was spoken in the panel because I cannot recall their words. The entire discussion lasted for about an hour and a half. I have searched for the footage of the discussion online but have not found it yet. As they were going into the question-and-answer session, I decided to go and use the bathroom, thinking that in the future I would watch the entire discussion online. After washing my hands, I noticed that I had a five o'clock shadow. I had brought my shaving razor, hoping to shave earlier. As I finished shaving using only to rinse my face, I had cut too deeply in some areas on my face, particularly my neck and chin. As the red blood spots continued to appear and bleed, I thought I might go to the head of security and ask him if he had some rubbing alcohol for me to use. They patiently obliged and sent a vehicle over to give just to give me a band aid and two small packets of P.A.W.S. (Personal Antimicrobial Wipe by Safetec). I'm very grateful to them for the time they took just to help me. As I waited for them, a lady came up to me asking questions about the library thinking that I worked there and I answered all her questions as though I was an expert. When they brought me the band-aid and wipes, I thanked them and returned to the bathroom. I applied the wipes and it helped somewhat. Eventually, my face stopped bleeding just before the discussion ended.

At 3:00 a fifteen minute break was in effect. I took this opportunity to take pictures with the people on the panel. As I made my way to the stage, I noticed a gentleman in the audience I had seen on television. He was not a part of the panel, but I decided to have a picture taken with him. His name was Paul Begala. For those who don't know, he is an American political consultant, Democratic strategist who serves as a political commentator, and was an adviser to President Bill Clinton. He also appears frequently on CNN. I asked him if I could have a picture with him and graciously accepted. I think it was his son who took the picture. After the photo op, he then said, "I love your tie." To be honest, I didn't know whether it was Paul Begala or Jon Meacham since to me they look similar. I dared not ask him, but after doing some research I discovered that when Mr. Wofford ran for the senate in 1991, his campaign was run by Paul Begala and James Carville so I concluded that it must be Mr. Begala. Anyways, I then made my way to Harris Wofford (age 87). I asked a gentleman who came with his son to take the picture and then I asked Mr. Wofford who also graciously accepted. Then went to have a picture with Callie Crossley. A companion of hers took the photo of us shaking hands. I tried to take one with Clayborne Carson, but he was distracted by other people and by that time, the fifteen minute break was over. It would also be the last time I would be able to use Jennifer's camera.

At 3:15, Massachusetts State Senator Linda Dorcena Forry went to podium to introduce Congressman John Lewis. She called the moment standing in the presence of greatness. She outlined the history of his life, highlighting important historic events that he participated in and accomplishments that he achieved. At 3:30, as the 73 year old pioneer stepped forward to speak, everyone in the room rose from their seats to applaud him, including myself. How could I not? I read about him on Wikipedia and saw interviews of him in which he shared his stories. This was a hero to many people and he had suffered physically for the movement. In fact, he and Pastor Hosea Williams were leading a march in Selma, Alabama on March 7, 1965. That day, in which is now remembered as Bloody Sunday, the state troopers began shoving and knocking the demonstrators to the ground and beat them with nightsticks, including Lewis, who had his skull fractured. President Clinton said of him in his memoirs, "On August 28, the thirty-fifth anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr.'s famous 'I have a dream' speech, I went to commemorative service at Union Chapel in Oak Bluffs, which had been a vacation mecca for African-Americans for more than a century. I shared a platform with Congressman John Lewis, who worked with Dr. King and was one of the most powerful moral forces in American politics. He and I had been friends for a long time, going back well before 1992. He was one of my earliest supporters and had every right to condemn me. Instead, when he rose to speak, John said that I was his friend and brother, that he had stood with me when I was up and would not leave me when I was down, that I had been a good president, and that if it were up to him, I would continue to be. John Lewis will never know how much he lifted my spirits that day" (Page 805-806).

After everyone had quieted down, his voice boomed into the microphone. It was like being at church and watching a really good and uplifting sermon. I almost said amen out loud when he talked about points in which I agreed. He spoke about the preparation for the March in 1963. He had recently been named chairman of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and his first responsibility was to travel to Washington as one of the "Big Six", with leaders, which included A. Phillip Randolph (leader of the Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters and also advised Presidents Roosevelt and Truman on issuing executive orders regarding racial discrimination), Whitney Young (leader of the National Urban League), Roy Wilkins (executive director of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People or NAACP), James Farmer (founder the Congress of Racial Equality or CORE), and Martin Luther King, Jr. (the chairman of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference or SCLC, a Southern Baptist minister, and the most famous leader of the Civil Rights Movement) to meet with President John F. Kennedy to discuss the planning of the upcoming March on Washington in June of 1963.

He then spoke of the meeting with President Kennedy in the Oval Office of the White House and they told him that they were going to march on Washington. The president did not like the idea of hundreds and thousands of people coming to Washington. Kennedy then turned to Mr. Randolph, who was their spokesperson and said, "If you bring these, all these people to Washington, won't there be violence and chaos and disorder? And we will never get a civil rights bill through the Congress." He said that Randolph responded and in his baritone voice, which Lewis attempted to mimic, "Mr. President, this will be an orderly, peaceful, nonviolent protest." Then they left that meeting, came out on the lawn of the White House, and informed the press that they had a meaningful and productive meeting with the President of the United States.

He went on to speak about the speech he made at the March. Some time before, they had a meeting concerning Lewis' speech and had a very tense discussion about what he was saying and not saying. There was concern about the end. They analyzed the said words and phrases. He remembers one line in which he said, "You tell us to wait. You tell us to be patient. We cannot wait. We cannot be patient. We want our freedom and we want it now." Bayard Rustin (master strategist and tireless activist) said to Lewis jokingly, "John, you can't say you cannot be patient. Catholic Church believes in being patient." But then, there were some people who said something like, "In the speech, you're saying revolution, black masses. What are you talking about?" Then Mr. Randolph came to Lewis' defense and said, "There's nothing wrong with the use of the word black masses. I use it in myself sometimes. There's nothing wrong with the use of the word revolution. I use it in myself." So it that part was kept in. It was near the end of the speech, in the original text, which said, "If we do not see meaningful progress here today, the day may come where we may not confine our marching on Washington, but we may be forced to march through the South the way Sherman did nonviolently." They said to Lewis, "Oh, no. You can't go there." And that phrase remained in the speech until they arrived at the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

Both Mr. Randolph and Dr. King then came to Lewis. Dr. King said to him, "John, this doesn't sound like you." Mr. Randolph said something like, "We come this far together, John. Let's stay together." He mentioned that he couldn't say no to A. Philip Randolph or Martin Luther King, Jr. so he agreed to some changes. He took out the words criticizing the President's bill as being too little and too late. He took out the call to march through the Heart of Dixie the way Sherman did. He took out the question asking which side is the federal government on. He took out the reference to some political leaders as "cheap," because he wanted to honor A. Philip Randolph and Martin Luther King. The speech he made would soon thrust him onto the national spotlight.

Then he spoke on when Martin Luther King Jr. stood up and started speaking and when Dr. King got to the point where he said, "I have a dream today, a dream deeply rooted in the American Dream," He looked at Dr. King, and although he had heard him speak so many times before, Lewis knew then that King was getting over to the American people, and that King was preaching a great sermon. King was trying to convey that were as one family living in the American house and that there was room for everyone from all walks of life. In a good sense, King took advantage of the situation. This was the largest audience he ever had. King had been to Washington before and had spoken in the steps of the Lincoln Memorial on May 17, 1957. But this time, the audience was different and larger. Lewis believes that King was inspired by God and that King had been tracked down by what he called the spirit of history.

After the march was all over, the leaders went to meet with President Kennedy at the White House again since the president had invited them to meet with him. He stood in the door of the oval office and greeted each one of the speakers and said, "You did a good job, you did a good job." When he greeted Dr. King, the president said to him, "And you had a dream." Lewis said that to be in the presence of Kennedy that you knew you felt you were standing in the present of history. As he spoke of these events, I felt as though I was a witness to that immortal day. I could almost see Kennedy at the entry into the oval office, smiling as he looked at King, shaking his hand, saying, "And you had a dream" History came alive for me that day. Its one thing when you read about these events in a book and believe me I own many biographies on different presidents and I'm an avid reader, but to hear it from someone who was actually in the presence of Kennedy and King was a rare privilege.

I can't seem to remember anything else that Congressman Lewis said except that he mentioned that the election of President Barack Obama was not the fulfillment of Dr. King's dream, but that it was a down payment. He spoke for about twenty minutes, although to me it seemed like less. When he finished speaking, all of us in the room rose from our seats to applaud him. Then Callie Crossley went on the stage and they both sat down for a conversation. It seemed more like her interviewing him, but I was fine with that. They took written questions from the audience. She asked him what he would suggest to motivate young people. He said that young people ought to get into "good trouble, necessary trouble" like the way Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King inspired him to. He also mentioned that we ought to watch a fourteen-hour documentary PBS series called Eyes on the Prize. After the conversation was over, a small singing group of students from Harvard University sang two songs. Then there was a group of children and one adult in a choir from the Boston Renaissance Charter School called "The Voices of the Renaissance", which also sang two songs. The songs were wonderful and the music was fitting to the occasion because music played an important role to the Civil Rights Movement.

At about 4:30, there was a book signing in which Congressman Lewis would also be signing copies of his newest book - a graphic novel entitled March (Book One) which is the first volume in a new trilogy of graphic memoirs. I went to the store where they unfortunately ran out of copies. I felt disappointed, but I thought that at least I would get a picture with him. As I approached the line, I met a professor whose name I sadly cannot recall. He teaches public speaking and other courses as well. If he's reading this I hope he'll contact me. Anyways, as we approached the front of the line, we agreed to take each other's picture with Mr. Lewis. We were excited until we were told that unless we had a copy of the book, we had to wait until all the books were signed in order to speak to the congressman. As I waited, I saw a lady carry a copy of Profiles In Courage Historic Hardcover by John F. Kennedy (with 1964 cover design, 226 pages, foreward by Robert F. Kennedy, and introduction by Caroline Kennedy) so it could be signed by Congressman Lewis (By the way, in Caroline Kennedy's introduction in the book, she mentions John Lewis by name when he accepted Profile in Courage Award for Lifetime Achievement in 2001). I quickly sped to the library store and bought the same Hardcover copy of Profiles In Courage for $22.00. After the purchase, I hurried went back to the table where Lewis was still seated. He signed my copy of Profiles In Courage.

I was saddened to find out that there were no pictures allowed to be taken with or of him. This made me really upset. I could deal with not being able to acquire a copy of the graphic novel, but not to picture with him when Dr. Peniel Joseph was able to and he posted it online. Wasn't there a panel discussion about the evils of discrimination? He took time for a renowned historian, but not for a Puerto-Rican busboy earning minimum wage? I traveled and saved money for this trip just for that moment, just for this once and a lifetime opportunity, which I may never have again to meet someone who was an inspiration to others and to me and now, I was being denied that privilege. To me that was not fair. I could understand if he was leaving to go somewhere else and that he may have been in a hurry to go somewhere, but he couldn't take five seconds of his time for one picture with someone who also admires what he stood for? Do I have to achieve some sort of celebrity status in order have a picture? It may not have mattered to him or to anyone else who had been there, but it meant the world to me. I went to a photographer who I asked to take a picture of me shaking hands with the congressman before he left. "I'll do what I can", he replied. I stood in front of the table, waiting to seize the opportunity and the chance.

However, one of the staff members (I know who this person's name is, but I will not mention it) deliberately stood in the way so I couldn't get the picture. I had never met or done anything wrong to this person. I'm at the library named after someone who supported civil rights, why am I being discriminated against? I apologize if this sounds as though I'm whining or acting like a spoiled child. I probably may not get invited to meet a person of renown because of this post. All I want is a picture to show others for the purpose of educating. I want to be able to say years from now that I met a person who experienced what generations to come may never have to experience. I met a person who was jailed for the color of his skin, marched for freedom, served his country, met presidents, given many honors and awards, and was rewarded for doing the right thing. I want to say to them, "I met someone who experienced something that you don't have experience and endured so you don't have to." Still, I remained determined to have the picture. I didn't want to make a scene or cause trouble. I just stood there patiently. Soon enough, the person moved away, and the opportunity had finally arrived. As Congressman Lewis stood, I shook his hand. I can't seem to recall what he said to me, but I smiled at him and the photographer took the pictures. It was about five seconds, but it seemed like time stood still in that moment.

Finally, I walked with the photographer to the lobby and his name I'll mention. The man's name is Ervin L. "Tootsie" Russell, a retired photographer. Here is his website: http://photosbytr.smugmug.com/ and He is now one of my heroes. He didn't have to take the picture. He didn't have to take the time to e-mail me the photos, but he took it upon himself to take three pictures of a nobody like me with someone I looked forward to meeting. He could have said, "Sorry, son, I can't help you," but he didn't. Instead, he chose to help me fulfil a dream and for that, I owe him my deepest gratitude. He asked if I was a member of any political party, I told him no. He asked if I was running for office, I told him no. I would not be using the photographs in order to get promoted, only for educating. Besides, I won't be pursuing a political career anymore. My personal involvement with politics is over. That doesn't mean I wouldn't want to attend any events pertaining to history and politics, that doesn't mean I won't do any community outreach and try to uplift humanity, I just won't be pursuing public life as a politician.

I walked outside of the library and met up with Jennifer who was sitting near the dock overlooking the ocean. I joined her and spoke with her on the events that took place. I gave her a ruler depicting the first ladies and a bookmark. Then we walked to the Victura, Kennedy's 26-foot sailboat, on display on the grounds of the Library from May to October. "You've been here alot haven't you," she asked. "No," I replied, "I haven't been here since 2004." That was true. As much I love the JFK Library and Museum, I had gone only three times before. The first time I went there was at the age of 16 on July 4, 2003, when I took the train for the first time and then a few weeks later on July 28 after turning 17 only twelve days before. Then I went with a friend on July 4, 2004, just twelve days before my 18th birthday. I would have loved to have made an annual pilgrimage every year on the Fourth of July, but it was not to be since over the years I would be working at different jobs each year and other circumstances. Now as of August 18, 2013, I can say that there has been a total of four times.

Anyways, Jennifer and I talked about the lives of different presidents like FDR, JFK, and Clinton. Then she and I spoke about what we wanted out of life. She wants to be a full-time teacher and I commend her for that. I hope she succeeds. Now it had been more than nine hours since I had last eaten, and I suggested that we go out to go eat. After some searching, we went to eat at a D'angelo Sandwich Shop. We both ordered food and ate. Then she took me to Walgreen's and said she wanted to pick up something there. To my surprise, it was a cover because I discovered an old friend from college named Alex, now working as a manager. I had not seen him since December of 2008. Both he and I were heavily involved and deeply interested in politics on campus. During the primaries, he was an early supporter of Hillary Clinton, while I was an early supporter of Barack Obama. Now he and I were no longer involved in political affairs. How much we both had changed. He and I chatted for a while about what we were doing for our lives. Then I proposed that we all have a picture taken together. Jennifer took two pictures of me and Alex, then Alex asked another employee to take a picture of the three of us together again. I may have been bitter about not being allowed a picture with Congressman Lewis but taking the pictures of the three of us made up for it. It was like a mini college reunion.

With the pictures taken, it was time to leave. My train's departure from South Station would be at 8:30pm and it was getting close to 8:00pm. Before Alex and I parted ways, I suggested that he and I plan to meet up again at the JFK Library. He said sure. I hope to see him again as I know that life often times gets in the way. Jennifer then drove me to South Station, which was 16.1 miles and 21 minutes away. When we arrived around 8:15 pm, I offered to help pay for her gas, but she said no. "It wasn't far," she said since it only took her about thirty minutes to get to Boston. We said goodbye and I went inside the station. The last time I took the train alone; I got lost and went on the wrong train to Attleboro. I was determined that it would never happen again. I asked a lady waiting at the track if she was going to Framingham. When she said yes, I was relieved. The train arrived on schedule at Track 2 and I went on board inbound for Framingham. While sitting my seat, I tried to read my copy of Profiles In Courage, but I started to fall asleep. My lack of sleep (only four hours' worth) really started to catch up with me. By 9:30 pm, I was in Framingham and decided to go the place I was staying by walking up Waverly St, through Fountain Street, down Dudley Road and Wayte Avenue, and then finally arriving at my destination on Union Avenue. It took me 41 minutes and 2.1 miles. I should have gone another route, which would have taken me less time. Anyways, I arrived the place I stayed, changed, took a shower, checked my e-mails, and fell asleep. That was my day.

So, what can I say to conclude my story that I'm sharing here? What are my final thoughts on the events that took place yesterday? I know that I've said more than enough, and I don't think many people will actually take time to read this as lengthy as it is (eleven pages' worth). Does it really matter? I don't have a wide audience wanting to know my opinion on anything and I'm not a person of great influence. First, I'm grateful to have gone to the JFK Library, learned about a time in history that I now more fully appreciate, met with a few people who witnessed history firsthand, had a wonderful time getting reacquainted with friends I had not seen in years. As President Ronald Reagan said in his Final Address on January 11, 1989, "All in all, not bad, not bad at all." I'm sorry, I couldn't resist.

There's something else I want to mention. I'm more grateful for the rights that I've been able to have thanks to people like Congressman John Lewis. He is a living witness, not just to history, but of personal perseverance for a cause that was for a time seemed unpopular and for a goal that seem unattainable. I should be more grateful for the rights I have today cause because of people like John Lewis, Martin Luther King, and so many others involved with the Civil Rights Movement. They went through so much just so that the next generation can be in a better world than what they had. Here in this country, I am judged by what I do, not by who my parents were or where they were born. Here, I can be something despite the color of my skin. I know that my parents were born in Puerto Rico, my mother is light-skinned, and my father is dark-skinned. I'm a minority, but I was born here in this country almost twenty-three years after the March on Washington. Fifty years ago, the idea of me sitting next a person of a different color was considered unacceptable. Now, I'm able to communicate, laugh with, and love people of different color. I am indebted to all those who marched, were beaten, bled, and died. I am a product of their bravery, work, and vision. Today, I can drink from the same fountain as another person. Today, I can vote. Today, I also am able to sit at the front of the bus.  While it is true that we have come far, but there is always room for improvement. Dr. King's dream is not yet fulfilled, but we can learn to apply his message of non-violence and love. We can start within our communities by helping our neighbors. After all, we are our brothers' and our sisters' keepers. We are all a part of one family in the American House.

I usually like to conclude a journal entry with a quote, and I thought of using an excerpt from Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr's "I Have A Dream" speech. However, I have already used some portions of his discourse in one of the paragraphs above. Instead, I would like to end this post with a small excerpt from President John F. Kennedy's Civil Rights Address, which he delivered to the nation on June 11, 1963: "This is one country. It has become one country because all of us and all the people who came here had an equal chance to develop their talents. We cannot say to ten percent of the population that you can't have that right; that your children cannot have the chance to develop whatever talents they have; that the only way that they are going to get their rights is to go in the street and demonstrate. I think we owe them, and we owe ourselves a better country than that."