That summer, we sang. We were too far from Washington to march, we were too far from Birmingham to mourn. We were too far from Chicago to carry a sign. So we did what we could, we sang.
I was starting my junior year in high school, just feeling the adrenaline: we were on the cusp of a new day.
I have that feeling now, today, as I watch a record number of voters coming to the polls. By tomorrow we may have elected our first African-American president.
I think many people voted for Barack Obama not because of his race, or in spite of his race. He's a charismatic, idealistic candidate who restores that sense of hope, that adrenaline rush that I remember from the songs, and the causes to sing for.
Of the four of us who sang that day, three have lived to see this moment. As the years passed we've witnessed too much: the agony of Vietnam; the Kennedy and King assassinations; September 11. We've all gone in different directions, but I'll wager that my friends would agree: today we remember. Today we remember how it felt to sing.
photo: Franklin Stone, David Sensing, Liz Jewell, Cherry Darby
