Fear’s End
.
Shortly after midnight, Martin’s sleep was
broken. Lifting the receiver, bone-tired:
Listen, nigger.*
.
Alone, though his wife
slept beside him, fear drove him
from their bed. The night was filled
with unbearable silence.
.
Struggling, pacing nervously,
moving from hall to kitchen,
.
putting the kettle on the stove
by instinct, walking back and forth,
softly, so as not to wake
the baby, trying to sort
muddled thoughts, to drive away spasms
of godless panic.
.
Hot coffee cools quickly.
.
He sat alone at that kitchen table,
eyes downcast, hands clasped.
.
Grace still amazes.
.
* The well documented “kitchen table incident” occurred during the night following Friday January 27, 1955—near the on-set of the year-long Montgomery Bus Boycott—when Martin Luther King Jr. received a threatening phone call from a white man, who called him a “nigger” and warned him that he had better leave Montgomery soon, if he wanted to do so alive.


8 comments
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January 12, 2007 at 8:52 am
bluegrrrrl
Beautiful poem, Helen! Also very disturbing. I have often thought about what some of those nights must have been like for King. And the courage it must have taken for him to keep moving forward through the fear, in spite of the threats.
I love the line
“Hot coffee cools quickly.”
January 12, 2007 at 9:26 am
helenl
Hi Blurgrrrrl, Thanks. And yes, it must have been so hard for him. This was only about a month after Rosa Parks refused to give up her seat and just days before the first bomb exploded on the Kings’ front porch.
Julie Edelson, an editor and novelist, who sometimes teaches at Wake Forest, helped me edit this poem, along with the rest of my thesis on King.
January 12, 2007 at 9:29 am
Larry
Not a good time in our history, he never quit, he never hid. Courage, faith, strength. I have known fear in my life but never that kind. I can only imagine.
Larry
January 12, 2007 at 9:34 am
helenl
The moment was mystical, Larry. King knew what he must do as he felt the Presence of God in an overwhelming instant: He knew he had been born to this end. Toward the end of his life, he knew he would die for the cause.
The night before his death, as he spoke at Bishop Charles Mason Chapel in Memphis, he said, ” I’m not worried about anything: I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord,” before he turned from the pulpit and collepsed in ecstasy, knowing he would live to not see his dream realized but would be martyred soon.
January 12, 2007 at 2:57 pm
mshahin
Hi Helen,
The poem transports us back to the place and time. It is chilling reading it at moments, but also beautiful because of the line “Grace still amazes” as he was in prayer when others would fear. And thanks for sharing some of his last words; the devout faith he had was amazing.
January 12, 2007 at 3:14 pm
helenl
Hi M. I was thinking about you last night. King was man of God, whose words should be heeded.
January 12, 2007 at 11:15 pm
Larry
I never really thought of him as a martyr Helen, but you know what? I will from now on.
Thanks
Larry
January 13, 2007 at 9:22 am
helenl
Too many people still see King as only a black Civil Rights leader not as “a preacher to the nation”: a prophet, and a martyr.