R. Bennett Furlow

My grandfather, who I never knew, was on the school board of a small town in Mississippi when the schools were desegregated. He had life long friends refuse to speak to him because he was integrating schools. He had folks come to his house on clan business, not in full garb mind you but it was clear why they were there.

My father put together a project for Martin Luther King Day a few years ago. It was truely a sight to see. It honored, not just the man, but the ideas and principles he epitomized. After it was over an African American woman, a woman who when she married her white husband was actually breaking the law in many states, came up to my father and said that this day, Martin Luther King Day, meant more to him than to anyone she has ever known.

My daughter will not grow up in the same world my grandfather did. She will not witness things my father has. She will grow up in a world where she will know anyone can achieve greatness. She will know the promise of America is, in fact, a reality. She will know a world in which this nation judged a man, not by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character. She will know a better world.