IT IS TIME TO REMOVE CORRUPT HACKS POLITICAL David B Roseman

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I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for

freedom in the history of our nation.

Five score years ago a great American in whose symbolic shadow we stand today signed the

Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree is a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro

slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the

long night of their captivity. But 100 years later the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later the

life of the Negro is still badly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination.

One hundred years later the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of

material prosperity. One hundred years later the Negro is still languished in the corners of American

society and finds himself in exile in his own land. So we’ve come here today to dramatize a shameful

condition.

In a sense we’ve come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our Republic wrote

the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a

promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men—yes,

black men as well as white men—would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty and the

pursuit of happiness. . . .

We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our

creative protests to degenerate into physical violence. . . . The marvelous new militancy which has

engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to distrust all white people, for many of our white

brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up

with our destiny.

. . . We cannot walk alone. And as we walk we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead.

We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be

satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of

police brutality.

We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in

the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities.

We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We

can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their adulthood and robbed of their dignity

by signs stating “For Whites Only.”

We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and the Negro in New York

believes he has nothing for which to vote.

No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and

righteousness like a mighty stream. . . .

I say to you today, my friends, though, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. I have a dream that one day this

nation will rise up, live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that

all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia sons of former slaves and the sons of former

slave-owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day

even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of

oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by

the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream . . . I have a dream that one

day in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of

interposition and nullification, one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able

to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

I have a dream today . . .

This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with new meaning. “My country, ’tis of

thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from

every mountain side, let freedom ring.” And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. So

let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty

mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. Let

freedom ring from the snowcapped Rockies of Colorado. Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of

California.

But not only that. Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia. Let freedom ring from Lookout

Mountain of Tennessee. Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi, from every

mountain side. Let freedom ring . . .

When we allow freedom to ring—when we let it ring from every city and every hamlet, from every state

and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white

men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the

old Negro spiritual, “Free at last, Free at last, Great God a-mighty, We are free at last.”

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