By Ryan Paul
1968 was a rollercoaster year for the United States. The Tet offensive in South Vietnam shocked the American public and began a cultural shift away from the war in Vietnam. Lyndon Johnson opens up the Democratic Party presidential race when he refuses to accept the 1968 nomination. Presidential hopeful Robert Kennedy is gunned down in Los Angeles and the black power salute is given by two American sprinters at the Olympic Games. On a brighter note, Hair premiered on Broadway, “Hey Jude” dropped on the radio, Yale agreed to admit its first class of female undergraduates in 267 years, and Apollo 8 orbited the moon. But probably the most memorable event occurred on the evening of April 4, 1968, when the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was shot while standing on the balcony of the blacks-only Lorraine Motel in Memphis, Tennessee.
We are all familiar with the famous photograph taken soon after. Dr. King lying on the ground, knees bent, in a pool of his own blood. He is surrounded by individuals pointing in the direction of the shot, a boarding house across the street. What most may not be as familiar with was why he was in Memphis in the first place.
On February 1, 1968, two Memphis sanitation workers, Echol Cole and Robert Walker were crushed to death by a malfunctioning garbage truck. They had climbed into the back to seek shelter from the heavy rain because they were denied access to the cab by the white driver. At the time, African Americans comprised 70% of the sanitation workers but made less money than white employees. Additionally, black workers could be fired for being one minute late, they had no pension, and were unable to be hired as drivers. In 1964, two other workers were killed in the same way and the city had refused to replace defective equipment. The Memphis sanitation workers had had enough. They went on strike, began marching, and carrying the iconic signs reading “I Am A Man.”
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. came to Memphis to support the striking workers. What many people do not know is that at the time, Dr. King’s popularity had been decreasing, specifically in the black community. A year earlier he had openly come out against the war in Vietnam, and more importantly to many in the civil rights movement, King had expanded his message to gain economic justice for all people, not just African Americans. This became known as the Poor People’s Campaign. For many, this felt like an abandonment of the movement’s core mission. Nevertheless, King was welcome to lend his popularity to the sanitation workers cause.
On March 28, Dr. King led a march through downtown Memphis. The demonstration quickly turned violent, one of the few marches involving Dr. King that became so. Store windows were smashed, and rioters looted the goods inside. One young man was killed during the melee. Dr. King was quickly escorted away and left Memphis only to return on April 3rd, when he delivered his famous “I’ve been to the mountaintop” speech at the Mason Temple (Church of God in Christ headquarters) to the striking sanitation workers.
Towards the end of his speech, Dr. King spoke about his work, his life, and the many threats against it. In hindsight, they are profoundly prophetic:
“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. So I’m happy, tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”
At 6:01 pm the following night, while leaning over the balcony outside room 306, Dr. King was killed.
This 2024 season, the Utah Shakespeare Festival presents Katori Hall’s award-winning play, The Mountaintop, which takes place the night of April 3, 1968, directly after King’s sermon. He has returned to Room 306 and as a storm blusters outside, Dr. King orders room service. Camae the maid enters the room and the two begin a series of flirtations, conversations, and connections that eventually lead to the revelation of Camae’s true intentions for being in his room that night.
Hall portrays Dr. King in all his humanity. He is not a saint and not a sinner, but someone in between, much like most of us. King is a human being trying to do his best at being the best human he can be. Sometimes he succeeds and sometimes he falters. In a 2011 NPR interview Hall notes, “A warts-and-all portrayal of Dr. King is important because there’s this extraordinary human being who is actually quite ordinary,” she explains. “I feel as though by portraying him with his flaws and foibles, we, too, can see––as human beings who have these flaws––that we, too, can be Kings; we, too, can carry on that baton that he has passed down to us.” (https://www.npr.org/2011/04/01/135019146/broadway-to-get-a-view-from-mlks-mountaintop)
This is a critical point. If we deify or exalt our history, we do a disservice to the past. The great southern writer Robert Penn Warren said, “History cannot give us a program for the future, but it can give us a further understanding of ourselves and of our common humanity so that we can better face the future." By seeing the fine finishes and the flaws of those that lived we can better see ourselves. They can attain and so can we. I believe that humans make history and theatre, but I also believe that history and theatre make us human.
When the news broke that Dr. King had been killed, many cities in America were engulfed in fire, violence, and cries of sorrow and rage. Indianapolis, Indiana was spared. That night a democratic candidate for the United States presidency, Robert Kennedy, was holding a campaign rally. When he delivered the details of the shocking event to the assembled audience, they were understandably distraught. As he calmed the crowd he said, “What we need in the United States is not division; what we need in the United States is not hatred; what we need in the United States is not violence or lawlessness; but love and wisdom, and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer within our country, whether they be white or they be black.” These words are inspirational and aspirational and while neither Kennedy nor King would not live to see them realized, they still echo from the past.
The Mountaintop provides us a moment, a glance, into someone we think we know and shows us that there is more. More to the story, more to the legacy, and more to a life than we originally thought. Dr. King gets a chance to look into the mirror and ponder the reflection he sees. Maybe, we all should give that a try. After all, a little self-reflection could be good for the soul.
