Today’s Personal Journey in the Living & Arts section is one of the most intriguing I’ve read since The Atlanta Journal-Constitution launched the narrative series in 2012.
Forty-seven years ago this week, civil rights leader Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., was assassinated as he stood on a hotel balcony in Memphis. Ever since that tragic day on April 4, 1968, there has been much debate around the world as to whether King’s death was the result of a lone gunman or a conspiracy involving several others, including members of the U.S. government.
For Georgia author and journalism teacher Pate McMichael, a white 1966 Mustang, two maps and laundry receipts provide irrefutable evidence toward the conclusion that no one other than James Earl Ray killed King. In his book, “Klandestine: How a Klan Lawyer and Checkbook Journalist Helped James Earl Ray Cover Up His Crime,” McMichael makes a detailed and convincing argument that, despite Ray’s attempt to take back his confession and Dexter King’s assertion to Ray in 1997 that he and his family did not believe Ray was responsible for his father’s death, Ray was indeed King’s assassin.
A Georgia native, I’ve read much about King’s life and death and seen even more in television documentaries and news specials. But the way that McMichael weaves Ray’s cross-country journey in the weeks before King’s death in our newspaper today is riveting and revealing.
McMichael’s narrative does what we hope every Personal Journey will do – captivate and connect with readers through exceptional storytelling. Regardless of whether you agree with McMichael’s theory or not, today’s story will likely make you wonder and examine or confirm your own previous conclusion.
I appreciate that almost every Sunday, the series pushes me to examine something about myself, my thinking or others. Two weeks ago, features reporter Mark Davis told the story of Jody Noland, a Cobb County woman who helps people write and leave letters to their loved ones before they die.
Technology and time have stolen a tradition many of us grew up with – writing and receiving letters. Cell phones and Facebook keep us in constant real-time communication with each other no matter the geographical distance, but there’s something about looking at someone’s handwritten letter and feeling an emotional connection that transcends time.
When I moved a couple of years ago, I stumbled upon a birthday card that my Dad, who died three weeks before Christmas in 2008, had mailed to me probably a decade earlier when I lived in Texas. It included a special note that means much more to me now than when he penned it several years earlier. Looking at his scraggly writing, I could hear his voice and see his face and hands with long fingers much like my own.
The only time I remember not getting a card or letter on my birthday from my dad was the September before he died. He was pretty much fighting for his life during that time, and it makes me sad that I can only put my hands on just one card.
For years now, whenever I give someone a card for some special moment, I always try to write something more meaningful than the expressions that Hallmark has already imparted. The Personal Journey on the letter writing made me examine if even that was enough.
I tend to write notes to my own daughter on the first day of school and her birthday, but there are so many days and opportunities in between to share a few words that may not seem significant to a teenager right now, but could mean the world to her many years from now.
I thank Jody Noland and Mark Davis for a story that has nudged me to write more to others.
Last week, former AJC reporter Jim Auchmutey shared excerpts from his book “The Class of ’65: A Student, a Divided Town and the Long Road to Forgiveness.” The subject of the book, Greg Wittkamper, struggled with an invitation to his 40th high school class reunion because of the painful ridicule he endured after he befriended black students at South Georgia’s Americus High School.
Who among us doesn’t have some dark moment in our past that reignites feelings of resentment or regret and forces us to do some introspection about who we are.
In the coming weeks, you’ll read stories about a hospital chaplain whose first call of duty was to comfort the family of a teenager dying from the flu, and her feelings of inadequacy in handling the task. Then there’s a reporter’s struggle to come to terms with the secret life of a father who was a con man even to those who loved him.
Later we’ll share the story of a young man with cerebral palsy who fights to have the normal life so many of us take for granted. All of these upcoming stories may prompt us to spend a little time looking within ourselves for a sense of purpose beyond the daily grind of work and mindless activities.
As we continue to share the stories of trials and triumphs, this year we hope to engage readers beyond the words in our newspaper and on our websites. Our goal is to expose creative writing and storytelling to young people in high schools and colleges and create accessible opportunities for everyday readers and amateur writers to have their stories told in our Sunday paper.
We also plan to experiment with our online presentation to enhance the reading experience with more video, interactives and possibly even podcasts.
The Personal Journey feature has touched so many lives during its short existence, and we will continue to work to make this weekly journey worth your while.
