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30 The final Journey After the national attention on the Selma movement moved on to other struggles and other places, our life changed completely. We knew something very important had happened, and we would somehow never be the same, but it would take years for us to begin to realize what had happened that spring. At first we were just relieved that thetelephonehadstoppedringingconstantly,thatwecould move about our house without fear of falling over some exhausted staff member asleep under the kitchen table or running into a delegation of local leaders streaming in the back door. i had to stop and think when cooking for just my family, what portions should i use? We could sleep in our own beds again and look out the front windows without the view being blocked by reporters on the porch. We also began to understand a bit of what had happened, now that we could stop and think. Had it all been in vain, would matters just slide back to the way they had been, now that the leaders and the cameras and all the attention had moved on? The local segregationists, the local white powers were all still there. They hadn’t left with the media and the movement leaders. yes, the president had promised voting rights laws on Tv and with the whole country watching. but he was in Washington, the Tv people were in new york, and we were in final Journey / 139 Selma. Had anything really changed? When Jawana was old enough, would she vote, serve on a jury, be addressed politely in the courthouse ? The three of us were just settling back into our old routines, and getting used to quiet in the house that spring afternoon when Martin showed up unannounced at the back door. “Martin, come in, we’ll see no one bothers you here.” He went into the middle bedroom, got his usual pajamas, took a shower, andbegantorelax.Thequestionburningonmylipswas “Does anyone know where you are?” The answer came slowly. “no.” My next question was going to be, “Do i need to call someone?” but my mind cautioned me to let it alone for now. i told him to go to bed and that he did. i took out the phone in his room and moved the other phones within hearing distance away, and closed off that part of the house so it could be as quiet as possible. After i was sure he was in bed i turned back to the kitchen and a fright came over me that i could hardly imagine. He had driven all the way here alone. The more i thought about it the more frightened i became. if he had been recognized on the highway or in the city limits of Selma, what could have happened! His old blue Pontiac was parked in the backyard but at least it was out of sight of the street. His car looked like thousands of others, so maybe no one would notice, especially since this car was not seen during the time of the movement in Selma. i went to the phone to call my husband at his office, and whispered , “Can you come home now?” “Why, what’s wrong?” he asked. “nothing, we are all right, just come home please.” He arrived within a few minutes. Coming into the driveway he saw Martin’s car and asked, “What’s going on?” Keeping my voice 140 / Chapter 30 low, i told him what happened. We decided to leave Martin alone and maybe we would get some answers later; he had said he wanted to rest and so we let him sleep. i peeped into his room and he was out like a light. This all happened about 3:00 in the afternoon. We woke up at 2:00 a.m., which in any other home would be considered the middle of the night, but not in this house. i have always teased my husband by telling him that he exists during the day but really comes alive at night! i guess Sully’s habit of being a night owl began because of his playing in different night clubs to put himself through dental school and having worked the eleven-to-seven shift at the Delco Remy automobile plant in indiana when he was just out of high school. So there is always activity late at night in the house by the side of the road. My husband goes to bed right after dinner every...

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