THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, October 27, 1996 TAG: 9610250009
SECTION: COMMENTARY PAGE: J4 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: Opinion
SOURCE: By HERMAN A. COX JR.
LENGTH: 51 lines
A year ago I had what was unquestionably one of the greatest experiences of my life. The Million Man March. What I remember most is the camaraderie. I honestly felt that a million strangers loved me that day in the nation's capital. Total strangers walked up to each other, introduced themselves and embraced. There was no posturing or chest pounding. No fake macho stuff. Everyone just seemed to let go of whatever it is that makes of us afraid to let people see us for who we are. A lot of us cried that day. I think a lot of us cried at the sight of us crying. It was an uplifting, emotional, spiritual experience.
Besides the masses that poured across the mall, you could see black people in trees, perched atop statues, lampposts and street signs. I didn't check but wouldn't have been surprised if there had some folks hanging from the Washington Monument. I had never been among so many black folk in my life. But oddly enough, I don't remember hearing a single curse word all day. If someone stepped on your foot or inadvertently bumped into you, it was followed by an ``excuse me'' or ``I'm sorry, brother.'' It was almost as if we all collectively understood that the world was watching us that day and had decided that the image presented would be one of complete and total solidarity.
Although it was a day of much speech-making, I cannot remember much of what was said. All the notables were there - Jesse Jackson, Louis Farrakhan, Ben Chavis, Rosa Parks, Maya Angelou, but the speeches, as moving and emotionally charged as some of them were, are not what I will think of years from now. The day is forever etched in my memory by way of mental snapshots. A collage of sights. A cacophony of sounds.
The sound of Marvin Gaye's ``Inner City Blues'' drifting across the capital grounds at 4 in the morning. Black-suited, bow-tied Muslims marching in formation. A father and his son, who in the midst of all this humanity, sat taking a lunch break. Groups of black folk lifting other black folk over the walls of the capital grounds. The spectacular view from the top of Capital Hill at the ocean of people that stretched as far as the eye could see. The chant that would recur over and over again: ``Long live the spirit of the Million Man March.''
That is how I will always remember that wondrous day in October. Black men from all across the country gathered in what was hailed as a day of healing and atonement. The day when a million total strangers, black men, hugged each other and wept openly.
Hopefully, together and individually we will continue to work within our communities and our families to extend the full promise of that day.
Long live the spirit of the Million Man March.
KEYWORDS: ANOTHER VIEW MILLION MAN MARCH by CNB