The Melting World

This weekend is the 50th anniversary of Emmett Till’s murder the night of August 28, 1955, in Money, Mississippi. If he were alive today, he’d be 64, probably a grandfather, though we can never know, sadly, what he might have been.

Here’s some links to read more about him and the reopening of his case in May of 2004. There is also a powerful new documentary called “The Untold Story of Emmett Till,” which I haven’t been able to see yet, but I hope to. Although it will be a painful story to see and hear, it is also criticial to not forget him. Please see it if you can.

That a fourteen year old boy died from the brutal stupidity of grown men, that a fourteen year old boy died to wake the country up to the ugliness of racism, that the murderers (some still alive and free) of a fourteen year old boy remain unpunished to this day, that his mother died without seeing justice served, sickens and saddens me. So today, I want to remember this fourteen year old boy, remember Emmett Till. The ugliness of it all could fill me with despair, but I’d rather face it with a determination to fight back, just as his mother had.

I read an article about a group of 14-year old boys from Selma who made a pilgrimage on August 27-28 in 2004 to the town where Emmett Till was murdered. This was one boy’s reflection:

“We are free, but not free. We are still in poverty at present. Right now all you see are presidential signs, and people campaigning everywhere. They talk, but they won’t do a thing to help my community. We still won’t have proper health care and health facilities. We are in poverty and are not noticed.

We don’t have to live in poverty if we work together. We don’t have to live in poverty if we think we can make it better.”

I hope to keep the same hope and courage in my heart.