 To Mayor Benjamin, members of City Council, Richland County leaders, to Ms. Baskins and the Martyr of the King, Jr., Memorial Foundation Committee, to Ms. Clark and the Martyr of the King, Jr. neighborhood, to the staff of the Columbia Parks and Recreation Department, to all members of Elective Office and all those who aspire to elective office, to the president of the NAACP of Columbia, Ms. Oveda Glover, to all of our students and to all of you. As a professor of history, I'm honored and humbled by the invitation to be with you this afternoon. We assemble in this part, this part to honor and to remember the life of Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., a leader of extraordinary courage and vision who left us an enduring message of resistance, of justice, of equality, and redemption. Redemption, how appropriate and ironic it is that this program takes place in this part. This part, a flat land along Rocky Branch Creek, a symbolic space once in the minds and memories of some in this room, a place of division and restriction, now a site of redevelopment, recreation, and transformation. We gather in this part, a meeting ground in the valley. This part, to the east, Millwood Avenue, to the west, the University of South Carolina, to the south, Shandong, to the north, Waverly. And here we come together, hailing from every direction many experiences and many backgrounds to celebrate the life of a drum major for justice, a brilliant young preacher who used his eloquent voice and his intellectual gifts and marched into battle against injustice. We gather in this part, where there is on the edge of these grounds, an extraordinary memorial called the Stone of Hope, a memorial dedicated in 1996, led by the JCs, the NAACP, the National Council of Negro Women, churches, students, schools, all gave money for bricks to build a monument honoring Dr. King. It was not easy, sometimes it was hopeless, but others persisted, a stone of hope. We will hew out of a mountain of despair a stone of hope. We will hew out of a mountain of despair a stone of hope. We will hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. If anyone knew the history of Dr. King, you would know that he was emphatic, that he was simply one voice, one person in the movement. It was September 30, 1959. Dr. King looked at a photographer and stood for a photo. That photo is now on display in the rear of this gymnasium. It was taking place at First Calvary Baptist Church. Dr. King was 30 years old, and he had come to Columbia for a meeting of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference. It was a conference organized by a funeral home director named I.S. Levy and a Methodist minister named Matthew McCullough, and also an extraordinary civil rights leader named Ella J. Baker. Ms. Baker came to Columbia to plan this meeting. And Dr. King was a featured speaker. When they came from nearly every corner of this nation, at the Township Auditorium and First Calvary Church, they came here to discuss inequities in education and call for federal intervention in schools that practice racial discrimination. They also came to discuss inequities in voting and said, we will commit all of our resources to ensuring that everyone who is qualified to vote will have the power and the ability to vote. But while they were here, they also gathered for a banquet to honor Dr. King. Now remember, this is 1959. He is 30 years old. He said, I am of the mind that we are about to witness an awakening in this nation, an awakening led by young people, September 1959. And Dr. King said, I want you also to know that this movement is not simply about me. I'm just the pilot of the movement. There is no journey without the grounds crew. And tonight, we celebrate the grounds crew. He repeated those same words in 1964 when he received the Nobel Peace Prize. He said, I accept this award on behalf of the nameless men and women who are willing to die for righteousness sake. Their names will never be in any history book. Their names will never be in who's who. But one day, men and women will know, and children will be taught that they're lived in this world, people who are willing to suffer for righteousness. So today, as we honor the life and legacy of Dr. King, we need not travel to Birmingham, or Selma, or Montgomery, or Washington, DC. We can just drive around this neighborhood, drive through King Park and Waverly, and see history that matters. As we honor Dr. King, the champion of voting rights, and as we mark the 60th anniversary of the voting rights bill, we are reminded today of a young man who lived in this community named George Elmore. George Elmore lived at 907 Tree Street. Just take Green Street, look back down the road. He operated a store at 2313 Gervais Street. And George Elmore simply wanted to vote. And in August of 1946, when he tried to vote in the Democratic Party, he was told that Negroes would not permit it to vote. So George Elmore secured the help of a local attorney named Harold Bullware, who lived in Allen Benedict Court. And they filed a lawsuit called Elmore v. Rice. And George Elmore was successful in breaking down racial discrimination in voting in South Carolina. He was successful. But he suffered indignity upon indignity. George Elmore of this community lost his store, lost his home, lost his wife, and some members of his family, and died of early death the same year that Dr. King came to Columbia. As we honor Dr. King and the push for equity and education, we honor the poor families of Clareton County, South Carolina, who filed a lawsuit for better schools in a case called Briggs v. Elliott. But as we remember them, we remember those here in Columbia who supported them, a young preacher named Joseph DeLane, who once lived on Taylor Street, an NAACP named Majeska Simpkins, who lived on Pine Street, an educator named Walker Solomon, who lived on Millwood Avenue, and a Baptist preacher, an insurance agent, who lived in the 1,200 block of Heights Street. His name was the Reverend James Hinton, who even when attacked and kidnapped by the Klan in the 1950s, he kept on pushing for civil rights. As we honor Dr. King today, the leader of the Montgomery bus boycott, we travel down Green Street across Millwood to the 1,100 block of Page Street. And there is an empty lot, but in 1954, in that empty lot, there was a house, a house where a young 19-year-old woman named Sarah Mae Fleming lived. She was originally from Eastover, but in June of 1954, Sarah Mae Fleming boarded a bus to go to work in Shandon. And she sat down in the first available seat, a seat reserved by law for white people. The bus driver demanded that she move and go to the back of the bus. She said, not today. She decided to get off that bus rather than suffering in dignity. And as she tried to get off the bus, she was beaten by the bus driver. Sarah Mae Fleming filed a lawsuit called Fleming versus SCENG. And that lawsuit unraveled segregation on buses in Columbia 17 months before Rosa Parks. We honor Sarah Mae Fleming today. As we honor Dr. King, the prophet of a new awakening, we honor students throughout Columbia who joined the caravan of civil rights workers. We traveled to the 1,100 block of Oak Street. And there is a white house, the home of Simon Bowie. We traveled the Laurel Street. There's a two-story house, the home of Talmadge Neal. We go to the 1,400 block of Hyde Street, where once lived Milton Green. We traveled Long Marion Street across from Old Booker T. Washington High School. And there live the woman named Maddie Johnson, who's here today. All of these students in March of 1960 protested segregation. They all were arrested and convicted. And in 1964, the United States Supreme Court overturned the convictions of young people right here in Columbia, South Carolina. As we honor Dr. King, today we go down Green Street and go to the corner of college in Oak. There's now a high-rise building called Errington Manor. But in 1960, there was a Methodist minister named Reverend I.D. Quincy Newman, who lived in this community. And on a Friday in July of 1960, Reverend Newman and his child and four other students from C.A. Johnson High School decided they wanted to have a picnic. On the day before they looked across the street and they saw white kids in this park. They also knew that there was a policeman who carried a shotgun, who chased away the black children. But in July of 1960, they came across the street. They came with a picnic basket and a blanket. And they had a sit-in right here in Valley Park. And they stayed to the police, chased them away. As we honor Dr. King, we honor a generation of people of this community who simply looked across the street and knew if they even came across the street or touched the grass on this park, they would be arrested. As we honor Dr. King today, we honor all the foot soldiers and all the members of the grounds crew. We honor Benjamin Mack, Oliver Washington Sr., two men who on April 3rd, 1968, they invited Dr. King to speak here in Columbia at the Zion Baptist Church. The day before, they received a telegram that said regrettably, Dr. King is delayed in Memphis and he will join you at another time. On April 3rd, 1968, he was supposed to be in Columbia and on that night, he gave his final sermon. He said, I may not get there with you, but we as a people will get to the Promised Land. I may not get there with you, but we as a people will get to the Promised Land. On April 4th, Dr. King was killed in Memphis. A few days later, his mentor, a man named Dr. Benjamin Amaze gave his eulogy and he said, Dr. King's work on earth must truly be our own. Dr. King's work on earth was truly be our own. Every year, we have programs like this. Every year, we honor Dr. King, but what will we do tomorrow? What will we do next week? Dr. King's work on earth must be our own. One last person, I work at the University of South Carolina. My office is on the other side of Green Street. And periodically, I would travel down Green Street, pass this part, I would turn left on Oak, I would pass the home of a leader of this community named Durham Carter, and then I would get to Pendleton and I'd turn right on Pendleton. And my car parked in front of 2310 Pendleton Street. And there, the professor went to meet the real professor. There I went to meet a woman named Donella Brown Wilson, a teacher, an activist. And I would sit down and listen to her. I sat down and listened to her to the very end until she was 108 years old. And she said, Dr. Donaldson, there's a problem with you all. I said, Ms. Wilson, what's the problem? She said, there's too much teaching in the textbook. Our history should not be in the textbook. It needs to be in your heart and in your mind. In your heart and in your mind. She says, history has no purpose unless you use it. And I've been using it since 1946, never missing an election. History has no purpose unless you use it. So my brothers and sisters of Columbia, if you want to honor Dr. King, then use this history. Use it as we raise our children and teach our students. Use this history as we demand better schools, better wages and better healthcare in this country. Use this history as we speak truth to power and blow the trumpet against wrong. Use this history as we challenge and tunnel through every wall of separation and division in this country. Use this history. If this history matters, then let us honor Dr. King, George Elmore, Ella Baker and Donald Wilson and use this history to secure, protect and exercise every bloodstained right to vote in this country. Dr. King said, the time is right to do right. We use this history and reflect in closing on Dr. King's last publication. He was perplexed about where the future would go. He was uncertain. It was 1967. The book was entitled, where do we go from here, community or chaos? That is the question. These are his words. He said, many of the ugly pages of our past have been deliberately obscured and forgotten. A society is always eager to cover up misdeeds with a cloak of forgetfulness. But no society can fully repress an ugly past when the ravages persist right now. Our country owes a debt of justice which has only begun to pay. If it loses the will to finish or slackens in its determination, history will recall its crimes. And the country, the country that would be great will lack the most indispensable element of greatness. And that is justice. This is our history. This is our story. This is our legacy. Let's use it. For when we all get together, what a day of rejoicing it will be when we all shander, millwood, Waverly, the University of South Carolina, the city of Columbia get together when we sit down by the banks of a creek in Valley Park, we'll sing and shout the victory. Thank you very much.