Now, I have to imagine that when a younger John Lewis woke
up that morning fifty years ago and made his way to Brown Chapel,
heroics were not on his mind. A day like this was not on his mind. Young
folks with bedrolls and backpacks were milling about. Veterans of the
movement trained newcomers in the tactics of non-violence; the right way
to protect yourself when attacked. A doctor described what tear gas
does to the body, while marchers scribbled down instructions for
contacting their loved ones. The air was thick with doubt, anticipation,
and fear. They comforted themselves with the final verse of the final
hymn they sung:...
