Abraham Lincoln's Memorial 1969

The alarm clock sang out, my dad jumps up rushes me into the kitchen, today my love is indeed, a very special day for you, my eyes wide shut, as he continued, explaining civil rights Cramming memories, into my little head I mean I'd remember sitting, on my Nona's lap as, Martin Luther King was killed in Birmingham my entire family, regressed into deep sadness Aging over night perhaps, so did I ,our last names were Parks and King, let me tell you, during the 60's in Chicago, if a riot broke out our names, were instantly called, over tornado speakers Sound off Mohammed speaks, we were rushed into dark sedans, being slowly driven down, Roosevelt road this was 1969 first grade I was preparing, to visit Lincoln's home, and tomb mom combed, through my curl's, my grandmother ,rubbed Vaseline on my face elbows, and knees ,this big fuss over me, I was actually named after Martins daughter, well Miss. Yolanda king you get to sing, on the steps of Lincoln's memorial, Marian Anderson's hymn, sometimes I feel like a motherless child, afterwards the Supreme Court Justice, we were mourning ,with happy tears, these brown face's doting on me, five generations in my mist standing in line, to give me a big kiss Anthony and Yolanda Nicholsen Catholic War Veterans