This past week was Martin Luther King Day. I purposefully didn’t post about Dr. King on that day. His contribution should be remembered every day.

When I was in Atlanta I made a point of going to the neighborhood that was Dr. King’s home, Sweet Auburn. It was an interesting experience in a number of ways.

Atlanta has a great system for Taxis. When you drive within a certain area, you pay a flat rate. What disappointed me was when I told the cabbie I wanted to visit Dr. King’s neighborhood he was less than enthusiastic about driving there.

The cabbie’s in Atlanta, at least at that time, were unusual in that they would offer you business cards if you wanted to call them for future rides. I’d never seen that before; about a decade later I don’t know if they still do that. This particular guy, though, didn’t offer to come back to pick me up. In fact, he said he didn’t know how difficult it would be to get someone to come pick me up.

I would not be deterred.

I had him drop me off at the King Center. I remember when Dr. King was murdered; my Grandmother admired him. It was intense seeing so many of his most personal possessions on display. His bible, things he had worn the day before his death. The King Center is an incredible place.

There was a couple taking pictures of each other in front of Dr. King’s grave. I asked if they’d like a picture taken together; they were happy to have me do that for them. Then he took my picture; I flashed a peace sign.

The thing that saddened me is that this African American couple and I were the only people there at that time.

There were a couple parts of the Center that were closed; one a movie theater where you could see films of Dr. King speaking. Why was it closed? The King family was having a hassle with the National Park Service about some project the government was wanting to develop. They felt it would take away from The King Center. As I recall it was going to be located across the street – I think this is the complex.

I shook that off and went on my way. It was eerie in a way, thinking about Dr. King walking along these same streets. I had that feeling before, when I first had a press pass to cover a game at Three River Stadium. Walking past the Pittsburgh Pirates dressing room; thinking about Roberto Clemente walking down that same hall.

When I went to the Martin Luther King Jr. birthplace, it was also closed due to the squabble with the Park Service. In any case, I went and stood on the porch; looked into the windows to see what I could see. I sat on the porch for a few minutes; thinking of him doing the same thing. I felt his presence.

Thinking back on it, I believe I said to my soulmate that I was surprised that there seemed to be no traffic in the neighborhood. That part was odd. I went to the Ebenezer Baptist Church; I stood there for awhile thinking what it might have been like to hear him preach. Before I left I took a place in one of the pews to say a prayer, for peace.

The National Park Service has information on The Martin Luther King Jr. National Historic Site. The place I went to, though, is not shown. Maybe it no longer exists. It was in a house that was somehow connected to Dr. King; definitely not his birthplace. It was small, surprisingly so to me. Which, I suppose, is why they wanted to build the new facility.

The people I took the picture of were there too. And another woman. We sat together and watched a movie they had on Dr. King’s life. I was able to get a taxi to come pick me up; something the park rangers questioned as did the cabblie. It seemed to take longer than it had getting other taxis duing the days we were there; that may have just been my imagination from the doubts the rangers had.

I am happy that I had the chance to visit the home of Martin Luther King Jr. and to see the legacy he left behind. If I go to Atlanta again it will definitely be priority visit to make again.