Over the last 67 years, the Rev. Joseph E. Lowery rarely did anything alone.
But there he was Wednesday morning — a solitary figure amidst a sea of mourners – seated alone at the casket of his wife, Evelyn Gibson Lowery.
An usher had wheeled him – at 91, he gets around in public mostly in a wheelchair – up to the mahogany casket covered with hundreds of flowers. First he rubbed the top of the casket, and then grabbed the handle. He then went to the front of it. Rubbed it again and tapped it.
The usher then wheeled him to his seat in the auditorium of the Martin Luther King Jr. International Chapel at Morehouse College. He got to his feet, then sat down. In silence.
Later, Atlanta Mayor Kasim Reed said that on the night Evelyn Lowery died, he visited their home to sit with Rev. Lowery.
“He said something powerful,” Reed recalled. “He said ‘Evelyn was the best decision I ever made.’ It hit my spirit. What a compliment from an extraordinary man to an extraordinary woman.”
Evelyn Gibson Lowery died Sept. 26 at her home from complications from a stroke she suffered on Sept. 18. Hundreds gathered Wednesday morning to say their final farewells at an elaborate, celebratory service filled with music, praise and memories.
Songs from the choir, composed of members from both Cascade United Methodist Church and Central United Methodist Church, and the prayers of several local ministers were met with loud shouts of glory and amen. When Tony award winner Jennifer Holliday finished singing, “His Eye Is On the Sparrow,” the balcony shook.
“Evelyn moved around in her world, believing in her heart that she was required by God to make a difference,” said broadcaster and longtime friend Xernona Clayton. “This strong, quiet, peaceful warrior — encompassing dignity, grace and fortitude — believed every person deserved to be free and entitled to enjoy the promise of America.”
The Rev. Al Sharpton said he had stopped speaking at funerals, because he grew tired of lying about the greatness of people in death who had not contributed to society in life.
“But Evelyn Lowery lived a life that no one needs to say anything about, because her work spoke for itself,” Sharpton said. “Whether it was women’s rights, civil rights or human rights, whether it was leading the line or making sure the line went forward, she was there. She was, with no exaggeration, a great woman.”
Joshua DuBois, the former executive director of the White House Office of Faith-based and Neighborhood Partnerships, read letters from President and Mrs. Obama, Attorney General Eric Holder and House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi.
“President Obama loved Mrs. Lowery. He loved you too Dr. Lowery,” DuBois said. “He told me to tell you our country will be strong for you. But he needs you to be strong for our country.”
Former Presidents Jimmy Carter and Bill Clinton also sent condolences. A short film featuring words of praise for Lowery from Coretta Scott King, James Orange and Rosa Parks was shown.
“Evelyn didn’t care about being in the limelight,” said Christine King Farris. “Her reward was serving God and humanity.”
The founder of Southern Christian Leadership Conference/WOMEN, Lowery was able to carve her own path in civil and human rights. She formed the group in 1979 to give women, particularly in the civil rights movement, a louder voice. She was one of the first civil rights leaders to address the AIDS crisis and she is noted for her work to document and preserve civil rights history through her heritage tours.
“She was a soldier in the army, too. She fought the good fight, too,” said Morehouse President John S. Wilson, Jr. “We say: Job well done.”
Toward the end of the ceremony Lowery’s daughters — Yvonne Lowery Kennedy, Karen Gale Lowery and Cheryl Jo Lowery – walked on stage.
Looking directly at their father from the stage they sang an emotional tribute “Total Praise,” whose lyrics read: “You are the source of my strength / You are the strength of my life.”
After the brisk two and a half hour service, mourners stood silently in line between the chapel doors and the street. Pallbearers in tuxedos and top hats carried the casket to a white carriage driven by two white horses.
In his wheelchair, Rev. Lowery and his daughters followed.
When Mrs. Lowery’s casket was eased into the carriage, Rev. Lowery clapped for his wife.
About the Author
