anniversary Archives - Ramblin' with Roger

The first MLK assassination attempt

“He was just a sneeze away from death”

The first MLK assassination attempt I knew of came up in a discussion at the Albany Public Library in January 2025 about Salman Rushbie’s book Knife. As you may know, Rushdie was stabbed in 2022 at Chautauqua Institution in western New York State. It’s a place my wife and I visited two years later, with greater security measures. Rushdie dreamed of something untoward happening to him the night before.

Someone in the book talk audience recalled that Martin Luther King, Jr. had been stabbed. The person thought it took place between the time of March on Washington on August 28, 1963, and when MLK was shot, presumably by James Earl Ray, on April 4, 1968. But I was sure that was not accurate. I suggested it had to have been earlier because, after 1963, he was an internationally known entity. Sure enough, it was in 1958.

I was recounting this to someone else, adding, “It was noted at the time that if he had sneezed, he would have died.” He thought I was BSing him. Nope.

“On 20 September 1958, Izola Ware Curry, a 42-year-old mentally disturbed woman, stabbed Martin Luther King, Jr., while he signed copies of his book, Stride Toward Freedom, at Blumstein’s Department Store in Harlem, New York. Curry approached King with a seven-inch steel letter opener and drove the blade into the upper left side of his chest. King was rushed to Harlem Hospital, where he underwent more than two hours of surgery to repair the wound. Doctors operating on the 29-year-old civil rights leader said: “Had Dr. King sneezed or coughed, the weapon would have penetrated the aorta.… He was just a sneeze away from death” (Papers 4:499n).”

Moreover

Not only did I recall this, but I wrote about it in 2013. The day before he died in 1968, MLK gave the Mountaintop speech. I had forgotten that he mentioned the 1958 assassination attempt as a part of that talk.

“It came out in the New York Times the next morning that if I had merely sneezed, I would have died. Well, about four days later, they allowed me, after the operation, they allowed me to read some of the mail that came in, and I’ll never forget it. It said simply, Dear Dr. King, I am a ninth-grade student at the White Plains High School. She said, while it should not matter, I would like to mention that I am a white girl. I read in the paper of your misfortune and of your suffering. And I read that if you had sneezed, you would have died. And I’m simply writing you to say that I’m so happy that you didn’t sneeze.”

In 1970, I was with a school group that drove past the Lorraine Hotel, where MLK was killed two years earlier. “In 1991, the Lorraine Motel was converted into the National Civil Rights Museum.”

One of the extremely few things I agree about 47’s actions: He signed an executive order to release more JFK, RFK, and MLK assassination files.

Kareem Abdul-Jabbar said

In his Substack for this week, Kareem quotes MLK: “Human progress is neither automatic nor inevitable… Every step toward the goal of justice requires sacrifice, suffering, and struggle- the tireless exertions and passionate concern of dedicated individuals.”

He notes: “Man, Dr. King could be a real downer. I mean, he’s not wrong, but that quote challenges people to rise above obsessing over their daily lives of pursuing personal goals in careers and relationships to take on the additional burden of seeking justice. Who’s got the time for sacrifice? I’m okay with people who choose not to sacrifice; it’s people who brag about sacrifices that aren’t really sacrifices who bug me. It diminishes those who really do sacrifice for the greater good.”

He complains that athletes and reality show contestants misuse the word sacrifice, even his former self: He had said, “’I think that the good and the great are only separated by the willingness to sacrifice.’ I would modify that today to say, ‘The good and the great are only separated by the intensity of their dedication…’

“True sacrifice is when one chooses to give up something precious in order to do something that doesn’t directly benefit them but does directly benefit others. Sacrifice for the greater good has many levels: from sacrificing one’s life—like Dr. King, Gandhi, Malcolm X, and Jesus—to sacrificing free time to help those in need within their community. Parents sacrifice constantly for their children because they love them. If we can learn to extend that feeling of love to a larger ‘family’ of neighbors, towns, country, and the world, then we are sacrificing in service of a just humanity. …”

My dad is still in my head

Hamlet, but I’m less than 1% Danish

Obviously, my dad is still in my head.

In April, when I was at my Dad’s group at church, the pastor was reading a piece on joy by Fred Buechner. We talked about the concept. Then, I mentioned that my go-to emotional state was melancholy.

I related this story, which I wrote about back in 2010. But I left details out, which I will add in italics.

We had a piano which my father painted, lilac, I think. “When I was four or five years old, Leslie marked up the piano with some crayons. In retrospect, it seemed like a reasonable thing; he colored the piano so she could too. My father went to Leslie and asked her who had marked the piano, and she said that Roger had done it.

“So my father got the strap that hung in the kitchen – this brown leather thing about a foot long that barbers used to sharpen their razors – and started wailing on me. One of the things he was looking for from me was an apology, yet even in the midst of my pain, I was unable to do so. ‘I didn’t do it, I didn’t do it!’ I sobbed.

“Eventually, and these are pretty much in the words of my father, recounting the incident years later, he figured that I was either really stupid or I was actually innocent. Finally, he requestioned Leslie, who finally confessed, and he started wailing on her.”

I’ve told this story a few times, but usually one-on-one, to my wife or a close friend. But this time, I added, “But he didn’t f**in’ BELIEVE me!”

Huh

Hmm. That was interesting. And surprising. Me cursing, even in our closed group, is not in my nature. So the telling of this thing that happened in 1958 somehow still has a visceral reaction in me. Among other things, it informs the pain when I feel when I’m not heard, or when people make assumptions about me that are untrue. It can tick me off but later, the melancholy takes hold.

The next morning, one of my online buddies wrote to say he was having prostate surgery; it was benign. My father died of prostate cancer. It was an interesting coincidence.

And the stories on CBS Sunday Morning that day – this is why Allah invented the DVR – about “The Covenant of Water” author Abraham Verghese, who was inspired by his mother and grandmothers; and Photographer James Balog on documenting climate change: “Adventure with a purpose” somehow leaned into the melancholy.

My relationship with my father was complicated. I’m sure my sisters would say that about their respective dealings with him, too. It’s been 24 years to the day since he died. I had the ridiculous thought that everyone should die in years ending in zero because it makes the math easier.

My wife’s best anniversary present

Working hard for the money

Our 25th wedding anniversary was two months ago, this very day. Here’s my wife’s best anniversary present to me.

I asked her when she wanted to go out to dinner at Yono’s that week. We hadn’t gone out to that elegant four-star restaurant in about 15 years, probably on or around our 10th wedding anniversary. We knew it was time to try it again.

So I asked my wife when she wanted to go out. Wednesday, which was our actual anniversary? No, she couldn’t because she had a work meeting. Tuesday? No, she had another meeting. Thursday, not only did I have choir rehearsal, but she also had yet another meeting.

OK, I guess we could go on the weekend, although I hate going out when everybody else is likely doing the same. Then she said, “Well, you know what? We could go out on Wednesday because it’s our anniversary!” I thought this was extraordinary, given the busyness of her life. So she DIDN’T go to a work meeting, which was astonishing.

We had a lovely time. There was great, attentive service and excellent food. Our conversation with one of the service, newly in Albany, was quite interesting.

“Retirement” job

My wife’s “retirement” job is obviously very time-consuming. The other thing that my wife did, presumably for herself, is that she took off eight weeks during the summer. It is so she can catch up on various tasks, including household chores, gardening, and whatnot.

We also have to do exciting things like talk to our TIAA-CREF agent because our old one got kicked upstairs and we need to meet the new one. They’re probably a nice person, but this is real My Eyes Glaze Over kind of stuff, though probably necessary.

I will tell you the truth: her taking time off from work is also a vacation for me. When she was working I often got volunteered, or, to be fair, volunteered myself to help her with her tabling at various events or to set up for event such as the end-of-year volunteers’ dinner.

Also, we’re going to go away a couple of times during the summer, which we can do because our lovely daughter is home taking care of the feline. That’s a good thing.

Happy birthday to my dear wife.

D-Day + 80 years

National WWII Museum

Today is D-Day +80 years. Since someone asked, D-Day stands for Day-Day. “D-Day and H-Hour are used for the day and hour on which a combat attack or operation is to be initiated.” June 6, 1944, “was so iconic that it came to be used solely when referring to the beginning of Operation Overlord.”

This year, I learned about the National WWII Museum in New Orleans. The site has several articles about the anniversary.

Surprisingly, the number of the war dead from that day is still in dispute. “Of the 4,414 Allied deaths on June 6th, 2,501 were Americans and 1,913 were Allies. If the figure sounds low…, it’s probably because we’re used to seeing estimates of the total number of D-Day casualties, which includes fatalities, the wounded, and the missing.

“While casualty figures are notoriously difficult to verify… the accepted estimate is that the Allies suffered 10,000 total casualties on D-Day itself. The highest casualties occurred on Omaha Beach, where 2,000 U.S. troops were killed, wounded, or went missing; at Sword Beach and Gold Beach, where 2,000 British troops were killed, wounded, or went missing; and at Juno Beach, where 340 Canadian soldiers were killed and another 574 wounded.

“The vast majority of the men who died perished in the very first waves of the attack. The first soldiers out of the landing craft were gunned down by German artillery. Once those pillboxes were destroyed and the machine guns silenced, the later waves of troops faced far better odds.”

There was a disastrous dry run 40 days earlier, so the success of the actual invasion was remarkable.

Albany is represented

From the Albany City School District website: “The Albany Marching Falcons officially kicked off their trip to France on Tuesday morning, loading their luggage, their instruments, and themselves onto two chartered buses bound for an evening flight from JFK International Airport to Paris.

“The group – some 50 City School District of Albany students from grades 6-12” -at least two of whom I know– “will be part of France’s official commemoration of the 80th anniversary of D-Day. They were accompanied by marching arts director Brian Cady and numerous chaperones and family members.

“Take a look at a Facebook photo album of the sendoff.

“Led by director Bryan Cady, the Marching Falcons will be one of only two bands from the U.S. invited to perform on Omaha Beach in Normandy. [The other is from the University of Florida.] The Marching Falcons will also perform at D-Day memorial concerts in Falaise, Saint Laurent-sur-Mer, and Paris before heading back to Albany on June 11.”

Pass

I watched this CBS News story about the WWII museum. A 99-year-old vet told the story of his deployment to kids eight decades his junior.

In the narrative, one teen asked his father to watch the movie Saving Private Ryan. That caught my attention because I decided in 1998 that I would not see the film. I saw previews in the movie theater and a brief clip during the Oscars.

Esquire magazine ran a story in 2023: 25 Years on, Saving Private Ryan’s Opening Scene Remains Cinema’s Most Brutal Depiction of War. Steven Spielberg’s Omaha Beach landings are not for the faint of heart. And that’s the point.

I guess I’m of the faint of heart.

“The 24-minute sequence captures war in a way that we hadn’t seen before, and hasn’t been matched since. It’s the nervous shakes that possess [Tom] Hanks’ hands. The vomit. The desperate surprise of soldiers drowning in the shallows, dragged down by their gear. The indiscriminate German bullets landing with a ‘puft’ in American chests. The relentless machine gun fire and explosions. The arms blown off, the guts hanging out, all of it captured by a cameraman running alongside the actors, instructed to pan to whatever part of the horror caught his attention.”

Some extremely small part of me says that I ought to watch it. Then the “hell, no” part of me wins out. Still, I’m glad it exists.

“To watch this opening salvo is to witness this veteran’s story transposed directly onto the screen. It’s a guttural, terrifying sequence that plays like something from a horror film. As it should; so realistic was this beach assault that it was reported to have triggered PTSD in veterans.”

Rather like war itself, no matter the cause.

A quarter century married

stop fretting

My wife and I have been a quarter century married. I find this fairly remarkable, given some of my previous relationships. Heck, we went out for 18 months in the mid-1990s then broke up. Then we got married three years later. I’m trying to explain how.

At least part of it is that we have negotiated over the years the fact that we don’t process information the same way. She’s WAY better than I am in terms of remembering names. When we meet someone on the street who recognizes me, she often introduces herself to the person because she knows there’s a 50/50 chance that I can’t remember their names, even though I know HOW I know them.

Our filing systems are not compatible. She files with the tab in the front and I put it in the back. But mostly, it’s the categories. She files documents by year, so if I wanted to find the warranty on the refrigerator, I’d have to look in the file for 20… ; I have no idea. I would have put it in an appliances folder. So she files and retrieves that stuff.

She’s watched the news far more than she had before I met her. I used to be stunned that she was unaware of several stories of significance. I’m not talking one-day news but ongoing narratives. When I would observe how the new story Y is like or unlike previous story X, she said she had never heard about story X. Hmm.

We have someone do our taxes. This is to ensure domestic tranquility because doing our taxes was… fraught. I was a 1040A/1040 EZ guy before. She itemizes heavily. We have bank/credit union accounts that are hers, mine, and ours. This is a very good thing.

Moving

A massively important thing is that we moved a year after we got married. She owned a two-family dwelling. I moved in, getting rid of a lot of my stuff, including a clock radio, the first item I ever purchased with a credit card, from Sears. Only two years earlier, I had bought a piece of real furniture, a love seat, but there was no room for that.

She said she was making room for her stuff. But it felt that she was creating space for MY things in HER place. I should give props to our then-pastor at our then-church who advocated for us to get OUR place.

We seem to have different roles in terms of raising the daughter, and increasingly, it’s the daughter deciding who is most qualified to address said topic.

I have learned to stop fretting that when she says we’re leaving church, or wherever, it’s not really when we’re going. I’ve brought reading matter for this very purpose. She’s made a concerted effort not to be late, especially when she sets the time.

Increasingly, she finds me funny. I mean ha-ha funny. Either my material is better or she’s more indulgent.

But mostly, we’re married this long because of alchemy. Heck, I don’t know.