Dr. Martin L. King

Terry Soloman

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May 28, 2010
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Today always brings back the memory of a special person, very important to me in my childhood. From 1962, through 1967, I lived with my grandparents at their home in Montgomery, Alabama. During the great majority of that time, my father was overseas killing communists, and my mother – well, let’s just say she was extremely devoted to being among the social elite in Montgomery, during those years.
The three strongest women of my childhood were my great-grandmother, “Plane Grandma,” my grandmother, Lillian, and her housekeeper “Lillie Belle.” All of them taught me life lessons I’ve never forgotten. My grandparents, “Colonel Miller” and “Grandmother,” were devout Methodists who took me, my sister, and later my little brother, to First United Methodist every Sunday.
Lillie Belle, who managed everything in my grandparent’s large home, treated me like she treated her own children. She was strict but fair, and punished - or advised me, when she caught me doing something I knew was wrong or, I was attempting something that would probably result in serious bodily harm or death. Her favorite form of punishment – usually after I punched my sister in the arm, or said something disrespectful, was making me walk down to the Weeping Willow tree in the back yard and break off the switch she would be spanking me with when I finally walked back up to the house and put it in her hand.
One Sunday, in 1964, my grandparents were in Europe with my mother and great-grandmother, and my father was still overseas as well. Long story short, Lillie Belle took me, my little sister and brother, to the Dexter Avenue Baptist church, with her and her kids. After the service, I remember Lillie Belle talking to friends, and a lot of people looking at me and pointing.
Lillie Belle caught the look in my eye and motioned to me to come over. I was holding my brother Kevin’s hand, so I just brought him with me, leaving my sister with the other kids. She put her hand on my shoulder and said to the man in front of me, “This is Mrs. Miller’s grandson’s Terry Ray, and Kevin.” That was the Sunday, The Reverend, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. gave me and my brother a smile and a pat on the head. 82512844_10207158395394299_4620143951494512640_n.jpg83005264_10207158397034340_2771559700532035584_n.jpg
 

I feel if he had of lived there would be more common sense used within the divisions we now face.
 

Today always brings back the memory of a special person, very important to me in my childhood. From 1962, through 1967, I lived with my grandparents at their home in Montgomery, Alabama. During the great majority of that time, my father was overseas killing communists, and my mother – well, let’s just say she was extremely devoted to being among the social elite in Montgomery, during those years.
The three strongest women of my childhood were my great-grandmother, “Plane Grandma,” my grandmother, Lillian, and her housekeeper “Lillie Belle.” All of them taught me life lessons I’ve never forgotten. My grandparents, “Colonel Miller” and “Grandmother,” were devout Methodists who took me, my sister, and later my little brother, to First United Methodist every Sunday.
Lillie Belle, who managed everything in my grandparent’s large home, treated me like she treated her own children. She was strict but fair, and punished - or advised me, when she caught me doing something I knew was wrong or, I was attempting something that would probably result in serious bodily harm or death. Her favorite form of punishment – usually after I punched my sister in the arm, or said something disrespectful, was making me walk down to the Weeping Willow tree in the back yard and break off the switch she would be spanking me with when I finally walked back up to the house and put it in her hand.
One Sunday, in 1964, my grandparents were in Europe with my mother and great-grandmother, and my father was still overseas as well. Long story short, Lillie Belle took me, my little sister and brother, to the Dexter Avenue Baptist church, with her and her kids. After the service, I remember Lillie Belle talking to friends, and a lot of people looking at me and pointing.
Lillie Belle caught the look in my eye and motioned to me to come over. I was holding my brother Kevin’s hand, so I just brought him with me, leaving my sister with the other kids. She put her hand on my shoulder and said to the man in front of me, “This is Mrs. Miller’s grandson’s Terry Ray, and Kevin.” That was the Sunday, The Reverend, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. gave me and my brother a smile and a pat on the head.View attachment 2004755View attachment 2004756
Great story, Terry. Thanks for sharing. Love me some of the folks in southern Bama. Benn there many times. By the way, ROLL TIDE!
 

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