Fifty years ago, Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated. I was living in Alexandria, Virginia. I had lived in Mighigan's Upper Peninsula until March, 1968, and I had never met a black child prior to moving to the D.C. area. When I woke up the morning of April 5, King had died the night before. School was canceled. My dad drove us to Arlington to see Washington burning. Later in the spring of 1968, I saw Resurrection City, a huge plywood encampment on the Mall near the Lincoln Memorial - where King had given the I Have a Dream speech. Everyone remembers the Dream line ... the content of their character ... No one remembers these lines from the same 1969 speech: We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. Hey! Mute! And: Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. Fifty years is a long time ago. Feels like yesterday.