Published: September 26, 2008 07:59 pm            

HAMILTON: King, Memories and Mr. Fields

One of the most sincere forms of flattery is imitation, and quite frankly, we don’t do enough of it. We marched — well, some of us — in order to get the city to give employees the day off for Dr. Martin L. King’s birthday, only to have in time the rise of the Niagara Falls 6 and similar cases. Ironically, those who are involved in the case are closer to flattering King in action than those who are supposedly in a leadership role in the city.  King was a man of action who would risk his life to save the lives and souls of others.  

Like Harriet Tubman, King’s legacy is not solely the property of African-Americans, but one of all Americans.  While there are thousands of African-Americans in this country who are willing to put their reputations and well-being on the line, thousands of whites are, too. The Summit Life Outreach Center is a pregnancy support center for women that unexpectedly find themselves pregnant and don’t have the heart to brutally terminate the life of the baby growing within them. These fine people find alternatives for some, and support for others, that make the transition from singlehood to motherhood a palatable lifelong journey at no charge to the client. They know and understand the soul of King as well as any, and have committed themselves to carrying out his legacy in a more intimate and lasting way than just a ceremony and a day off.

Yet, there are those who know and understand the mission of King in a more intimate way than most. One of those people is the Rev. Dr. Alveda C. King, the niece of that great civil rights leader. Her name and title goes a long way in removing any doubt about imitation being the best flattery. It is one thing to be committed to King’s dream if it is solely for ourselves. It is something altogether different, and better, to be committed to that dream if it is for someone else. If children are our future, then babies are the manifestation of our dreams.  Both Alveda King and Summit Life Outreach Center recognize this and have joined together for a dinner event at 5:30 p.m. Oct. 4 at Our Lady of Fatima Shrine in Lewiston. Tickets are available by calling Liz Bignell at 754-0725.

Why would I write about the event? As a longstanding advocate against the wholesale slaughtering of babies in the womb, I have been asked to make the introduction of the good Alveda King. It fulfils a longstanding dream of mine to be in contact with one who has memories of Martin L. King, and, please forgive me for falling back on my background as a radio talk show host, but I have reserved a table at the event and am offering two tickets to the fifth person who e-mails me and asks for them. Would love to see you there.

Speaking of memories, I talked to an old Navy friend of mine a few nights ago. We have not seen each other since 1978, and yet we are as much friends now as we were when he, alone, waited for me in the narrow, dark and winding streets of the old Kasbah of Tunis, Tunisia. Some say that memories are for roses in December. I say that they are our final treasure chest of souvenirs of a life well lived.  

But for too many of our friends and family members, that treasure is robbed by a terrible disease that changes the lives of both the family members, who lovingly try to provide care to the victim, and the victims themselves. As a board member of the Western New York Alzheimer’s Association, I encourage Niagarans to come on down to the Memory Walk at 9 a.m. Saturday at Hyde Park for a brisk walk, enjoyable music, refreshing treats, and good company to help stomp out this dreaded disease. My dad died with Alzheimer’s and destroyed the final years of his life. My sons did not get to know their grandfather in the way that I had wished. I wouldn’t wish that disease to afflict anyone else’s family. Perhaps your contribution can find the cure and prevent that from happening.

Finally, the city mourns the death of one whose life was well lived. An icon of my community, Willie Fields, died this week. He was a successful husband of 66 years and a successful father to his son and daughters. I remember him from when I was a first-grader and went to the store that he owned near the Center Court Housing Project. He taught me something that I never forgot and I am somewhat embarrassed to tell. But embarrassment never stopped me in the past.

My younger sister, Linda, who was always smarter than me, opened her tiny fist one day and showed me the handful of pennies that she had. Amazed at the five shiny coins, I asked her where she got them from. I was 6 and she was 5, hence the dangling last sentence, but never mind. She said that she went to the store and asked for change. It sounded good to me, so I asked her for one of her pennies and happily skipped to Fields Store. I entered the store, stretched and placed the single penny on the counter, then stepped back and looked at the store owner. “What do you want?” he asked. Taking a cue from my sister, I asked for “change.”

I left the store with one penny in my pocket and, feeling cheated, with two eyes filled with tears. Mr. Fields insisted that he could not give me change for a penny. I never forgot that lesson and later came to understand that if someone really wants “change,” then they have to be willing to come with something of equal value to the change that they want. That’s why I slipped a penny into his coffin.

God bless you, Mr. Fields.

Ken Hamilton is a Niagara Falls resident. Contact him at kenhamilton930@aol.com.

        

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