I heard the loud thumping of footsteps coming up the basement stairs. Something was very wrong. Marie appeared at the kitchen entrance, distraught and out of breath. Martin Luther King has just been shot dead in Memphis. It’s all over the news. Come downstairs. Now.

A terrible primal rage boiled up from somewhere deep in my consciousness. Not Martin Luther King. Not King. For God’s sake, not him.

I stood for a moment overcome by this terrible anger then said,” They’re going to burn America to the ground tonight. And I’m glad.”

I wasn’t kidding.