These Times

Imagining some times of our lives

Kirk Ericson | Mar 28, 20240

If you could have been present at an event that occurred sometime, somewhere in your life, what event would you choose?

What would I choose?

Thanks for asking.

■ I would have liked to be in the South Pacific on April 12, 1970, when the Apollo 13 astronauts put their feet on the flight deck of the USS Iwo Jima. Much of the world had been riveted by the struggle to return the crippled ship to Earth after a malfunction aborted its mission to the moon. Imagine witnessing those men who had spent the previous few days untethered to Earth, perhaps wondering what it feels like to freeze or burn to death. If one of your goals in life is to be in the vicinity of three rightfully happy fellas, this would have been the time.

■ Berlin, Nov. 9, 1989. The East German government opens passage to West Berlin, ending the Berlin Wall. Imagine being among the reunions of friends and family separated for decades by that barrier. Imagine being separated from your friends and family, and in one spasm of an unexpected moment, you’re together once more. Imagine the joy. Imagine the sincerity of people’s hugs. Imagine Germans dancing, if you can, and techno music blasting out of VW Golfs.

■ Near Paarl, South Africa, Feb. 11, 1990: Nelson Mandela walks out of prison after 27 years behind bars. Thousands of people, most of whom had fought and suffered for decades under apartheid, lined the road leading from Mandela’s last prison cell. Imagine being in the crowd and watching the man who had led the struggle against apartheid — and who had paid for it with his freedom — walking down the center of the road, unshackled, unbowed, fist raised. Imagine: So many years of injustice and now, the possibility of justice.

■ Memphis, Tennessee, April 3, 1968: Martin Luther King Jr. gives the last sermon of his life. It was the “I’ve Been to the Mountaintop” speech. What happened the next day likely informs my take on this speech, but it seems we’re hearing from a human no longer of this earth, someone who has one last chance to bear the truth: Only courage, forgiveness, redemption and compassion will save us. Radical ideas then, and now. You can hear the audience’s response. They seem to know they’re hearing something monumental — their acknowledgements accent King’s words. It’s a connection between audience and orator that’s rare to hear.

“Well, I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn’t matter with me now because I’ve been to the mountaintop. And I don’t mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people will get to the promised land! And so, I’m happy tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man!”

Imagine. You’re Martin Luther King Jr., you have all these people who adore you, you have all these people who want to kill you, and perhaps you have a premonition of your death. This could be your last speech, and you make this one.