Redemption song

http://www.pacificsun.com/story.php?story_id=3267

Former KKK member sees the light­glowing from flames of eternal damnation

by Ronnie Cohen
July 31, 2009

It took Elwin Wilson almost half a century to apologize to the 
African-American man he beat to a bloody pulp in the early 1960s.

The black man's crime: daring to walk into a bus station waiting room 
marked for whites only. But Wilson's victim, John Lewis, had forgiven 
him long ago, even as the white supremacist punched him and left him 
immobilized in a pool of blood in the Rock Hill, South Carolina, bus 
depot in 1961.

Now a Georgia congressman, Lewis, 69, repeatedly suffered the wrath 
of white supremacists like Wilson. Despite the vulgarities and 
violence they leveled at him, he has refused to return their hate.

"I saw them as innocent children," Lewis said during a recent 
telephone interview from his Washington, D.C., office. "Something 
went wrong. We don't come into this world hating someone because of 
their race or color. We're taught to hate. I don't know a single 
person in this world that I hate. As Dr. King would say, hate is too 
heavy a burden to bear."

Hate became too heavy a burden for Elwin Wilson. He feared it would 
send him to hell. And, he said in a telephone interview from his Rock 
Hill home, it alienated him from his son and his grandson, who 
abhorred his racism. So, spurred by a look back at the segregated 
South in the wake of the election of the United States' first 
African-American president, Wilson has apologized to people he hurt, 
including Rep. Lewis.

The Worldwide Forgiveness Alliance, based in Marin County, will laud 
Wilson and Lewis as heroes of forgiveness on Sunday, Aug. 2, as part 
of this year's annual International Forgiveness Day at Dominican 
University. Wilson, who marched with the Ku Klux Klan, and Lewis, who 
marched with Martin Luther King Jr., are scheduled to share the stage 
to accept their awards and discuss forgiveness.

A religious friend of Wilson's lit the spark for the unlikely reunion 
when he asked the 73-year-old lifelong South Carolina resident if he 
expected to go to heaven or hell. Given his escapades with the KKK, 
Wilson knew he had to do something if he wanted to redirect his path 
in the afterlife. "I'd been wantin' to get this off of my shoulders, 
out of my heart. I didn't know how to do it," he said.

The answer came a day after Barack Obama's inauguration. Wilson's 
local newspaper, The Herald, ran a story about Rock Hill residents 
who risked their lives and served jail time for protesting 
lunch-counter segregation. These civil rights activists were 
celebrating the election of a president whose father would not have 
been able to drink a soda at the lunch counter they helped integrate.

Wilson called the reporter who wrote the story and asked him to 
arrange a reunion with the protesters so he could apologize to them. 
The former white supremacist and the people he pulled off stools at 
the whites-only lunch counter in 1961 got together in the beginning 
of 2009 at the restaurant where they first met. The protesters 
accepted Wilson's apology. Then they got to talking, and the subject 
turned to the day King's Freedom Riders stopped in Rock Hill. Wilson 
quickly admitted being the one to pound the black man who dared to 
sit in the whites-only waiting room.

The black man was Rep. Lewis, "an American hero and a giant of the 
civil rights movement," according to Obama. The great-grandson of a 
slave and the son of an Alabama tenant farmer, Lewis has represented 
Georgia for more than two decades. ABC News arranged for Wilson to go 
to Washington, D.C., to meet Lewis on Good Morning America.

Both dressed in sports jackets and ties, the two men sat side by side 
and talked about the day in May 1961­a few months before Obama was 
born­when they first met.

"I'm sorry for what happened down there," Wilson said in a thick 
Southern accent. He extended his hand. Lewis shook it. Wilson reached 
to hug the man he once pummeled, and the two embraced like old 
friends while Lewis said, "It's OK; it's all right."

"I feel like I got saved," Wilson responded, shedding a tear.

"I never thought this would happen," Lewis said, also with a Southern 
accent. "It says somethin' about the power of love, the power of 
grace and the power of people to say, 'I'm sorry.' "

It also says something about our time.

"We've come such a distance," the Democratic congressman said on the 
phone. "We've made a lot of progress. Today, the fear is gone."

In his 1998 memoir, Walking with the Wind, A Memoir of the Movement, 
Wilson writes that he felt no fear when he stepped into the 
whites-only waiting room at the Rock Hill bus depot. He also felt no 
hostility toward his assailants.

After the beating, the memoir says "police arrived, including a 
sympathetic officer who asked if we wanted to press charges.... We 
said no to the offer to press charges. This was simply another aspect 
of the Gandhian perspective. Our struggle was not against one person 
or against a small group of people like those who attacked us that 
morning. The struggle was against a system, the system that helped 
produce people like that. We didn't see these young guys who attacked 
us that day as the problem. We saw them as victims. The problem was 
much bigger, and to focus on these individuals would be nothing more 
than a distraction, a sideshow that would draw attention away from 
where it belonged, which in this case was the sanctioned system of 
segregation in the entire South."

Influenced by his friend, Dr. King, his study of Gandhi and a family 
bent on reconciliation, forgiveness has been a cornerstone of Lewis' 
life. "It's been in keeping with my very being," he said. "You have 
to learn to forgive to move on."

When Lewis and his siblings or cousins bickered, he said his mother 
would make one of the children go to the left of their house and the 
other to the right. "When we came around to the front, we had to be 
standing together, hooked up together," Lewis said. "You had to find 
some ways to peacefully co-exist."

Wilson is not the only person to tell Lewis he is sorry for the way 
he abused him in the 1960s. Rock Hill's mayor publicly apologized to 
Lewis when he returned to South Carolina to deliver a Martin Luther 
King address last year. In 1996, Lewis said Joe Smitherman, mayor of 
Selma, Alabama, from 1964 until 2000 and an avowed segregationist, 
told him he was the bravest, most courageous person he ever knew.

"We made a lot of progress," the congressman said. Nevertheless, he 
sees more work to be done. "People ask me whether the election of 
Barack Obama is the fulfillment of Dr. King's dream. It is a down 
payment. We still have a distance to go before we lay down the burden 
of race, before we create a truly multi-racial democracy."
--

Spiritual teacher and author Marianne Williamson will lead a 
Forgiveness Masters Workshop on Saturday, Aug. 1, from 1 to 5pm in 
Dominican University's Angelico Hall. Advance tickets are $60; 
tickets at the door are $65. Williamson, Lewis and Wilson will 
receive forgiveness awards on Aug. 2 from 7 to 9:30pm during the 
International Forgiveness Day ceremony in Angelico Hall. The 
Worldwide Forgiveness Alliance suggests a $20 donation. For more 
information, go to www.forgivenessalliance.org . Contact Ronnie Cohen 
at [email protected].

.


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