That's a photo of people lined up to leave Los Angeles for a civil rights march in Alabama. It was 1965, and they were going to join Dr. King for a "Negro vote" march. I look at these photos and think of myself in 1965, a little white two-year old girl. I wonder whether I might have climbed onto that bus were I an adult. I hope so.
My awe of the man and what he did and what he said and what he accomplished never lessens.
When people claim that violence is sometimes necessary to achieve some goal or another, I think not really. Not at all. Martin Luther King is testament to that.