Corrie’s Story
The loss of life — this year alone — is staggering. Almost too much to keep up with. Each week, seemingly someone else we’ve grown to know and appreciate … someone we’ve come to respect and admire … over the years and throughout our lifetimes, is being taken away. Seemingly too soon.
It’s definitely too much.
And now, with the loss of Mrs. Coretta Scott King, it’s way too much to comprehend. Too much to understand. The great ones are supposed to live on forever. Or until they just can’t anymore.
She was so strong for so long.
Now she’s gone, and with her goes the last bastion of leadership that Black America came to know. That final link to greatness. Malcolm and Martin were assassinated, seemingly before we were born. Sister Shabazz, as strong as she was, left us just a few years ago. And now Mrs. King, who was called by so many the Queen of Black America. She left us this past week, surrendered to ovarian cancer after a lifetime of seemingly never surrendering to anything else.
We grew up learning about her husband. We know about the work he chose to take on — the unenviable work of changing America. He did it with each step he took, each word he spoke.
We also know that he didn’t do it alone.
