| | | | Dear John, | | | | I recently visited the home of Malcolm X in Queens, New York, which was firebombed a week before his assassination on February 21st, 1965. | | | | Along with my uncle, my father, and Martin Luther King, it was one of four assassinations of the 1960s that devastated the soul of our nation. | | | | Malcolm’s death was especially tragic because it came at a moment where the arc of his life had swung toward viewing all people as part of the brotherhood of humanity. | | | | The central revelation that transformed him was a trip to Mecca where he saw people of every race, creed and color worshiping in the same places and praying to the same god. | | | | After that, he saw his life’s mission as being a truth teller: | | | | “I’m speaking now from what I think, from what I have seen, from what I have analyzed and the conclusions that I have reached. It is not a case of being good or bad blacks and whites, it’s the case of being good or bad human beings.” | | |
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