I read of “Bloody Sunday,” the attempt of civil rights activists to march from Selma to Montgomery for voting rights, and how it ended on a bridge in Selma when non-violent marchers were beaten by the billy clubs of Alabama state troopers, how John Lewis himself was beaten severely, suffering a concussion and other injuries. I finished the book the next morning, waiting for the inauguration to begin. laws-in Wisconsin, in North Carolina, in Florida, in Texas-and I realized how vital to the health of democracy the courage of heroes like John Lewis can be. Afterward, I reflected on the recent attempts to suppress the black vote with voter I.D. I read of Lewis’ painstaking organizing efforts during the dangerous “Mississippi Freedom Summer,” when the brave young activists of SNCC labored to register black people to vote. I read half of the book that night, from the Birmingham church bombing in September of ‘63 to the failure of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party to seat their delegates at the convention in August of ‘64. I decided on March 3, the final volume of Congressman John Lewis’ graphic autobiographical account of the civil rights struggle, and it turned out to be an excellent choice. It was the evening before the inauguration, and I was looking for something to read, something that would fortify me against the dark rhetoric of soon-to-be president Trump.
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