Bull Connor, like the Dutch Boy from Haarlem, put his finger in a hole to plug a burgeoning leak.
But Bull Connor, unlike the boy from Haarlem, did not foresee the raging torrents of history, smashing against the crumbling walls of the porous **** he sought to buttress.
His decadent heroism held no moral authority to sustain his ungodly labors.
His savage dogs, hungry for meat, bent on aggression for a twisted masters bidding were devoured by the teeth of a movement hungry for justice.
His water cannons, tiny water pistols, ****** into the mighty squalls of a raging hurricane that blew the stinking ***** back onto his face.
The weight of history moves with the just.
Untruth, arch rival of justice, is blown away, like an expired candle snuffed out, blessedly extinguished from the first breath of a glorious new day.
Bull Connor doesnβt rest in peace.
He stands on the other side of the river.
He is the rich man driven by insane thirst begging for water from a comforted Lazarus, now secure in the ***** of Abraham.
Bull Connor looks across the chasm of fire he knows he'll never bridge.
Medgar Evers and MLK Jr. stand as keepers, collecting tolls for a heavenly passage from the wages he earned for his earthly work.
A forlorn Bull Connor forever searches deep empty pockets for fare as Martin and Medgar patiently wait with outstretched palms.
Music Selection: The Soul Stirrers, Jesus Gave Me Water
MLK Jr. Day 1/20/86 NYC jbm
written to commemorate the first MLK Jr. Day, 1/20/86 in NYC