[Congressional Record (Bound Edition), Volume 161 (2015), Part 3]
[Extensions of Remarks]
[Pages 3722-3723]
[From the U.S. Government Publishing Office, www.gpo.gov]




 IN HONOR OF THE FIFTIETH ANNIVERSARY OF THE SELMA TO MONTGOMERY MARCH 
     ON THE STEPS OF THE ALABAMA STATE CAPITOL, MONTGOMERY, ALABAMA

                                  _____
                                 

                          HON. STENY H. HOYER

                              of maryland

                    in the house of representatives

                        Tuesday, March 17, 2015

  Mr. HOYER. Mr. Speaker, I submit the following:


                    remarks by peggy wallace kennedy

       Montgomery, Alabama, a city that bears the scars of 
     struggle and the nobility of change. A city that sits on the 
     soil of shared sorrows for those that suffered and died for 
     equality. A place of repose. Monuments of stone that connect 
     us to each other. A place of hope and promise. A place to lay 
     our grief down and shoulder the burden of moving beyond the 
     sunset of despair to the place we call home.
       All of us come to this moment and to this place on the road 
     of our own life's personal journey. We are diverse, both in 
     our experiences and our aspirations and our dreams. But we 
     are united in the common belief that a vision for a Just 
     America is worth the saving.
       Stepping away from a painful past has not always been easy, 
     but it has always been right. None of us can be held 
     responsible for the circumstances of our birth, but each one 
     of us will be held responsible for who we have become.
       When my son Burns was young, my husband and I took him to 
     the Martin Luther King Historic Site in Atlanta. As we moved 
     through the exhibits we came across the photographs of fire 
     hoses in Birmingham, the 16th Street Baptist Church, Governor 
     Wallace standing in the Schoolhouse Door and the Edmund 
     Pettus Bridge.
       Burns stood still as the truth of his family's past washed 
     over him. He turned to me and asked, `Why did Paw Paw' do 
     those things to other people? I realized that at that moment 
     I was at a crossroad in my life and the life of my son. The 
     mantle had passed, and it was now up to me to do for Burns 
     what my father never did for me. It was the first step in my 
     journey of building a legacy of my own. I knelt down beside 
     my son, drew him close and said, `Paw Paw never told me why 
     he did those things, but I know that he was wrong. So maybe 
     it will just have to be up to me and you to help make things 
     right.'

[[Page 3723]]

       Standing here before you today is yet another day for the 
     fulfillment of the promise that I made to my son. For today 
     and for all the tomorrows to come there are opportunities for 
     all of us to raise the call for justice in our lifetime.
       Montgomery, Alabama, Dexter Avenue and the State Capitol 
     are enshrined in the annals of American history. A historic 
     place for historic times. But for me, it is much more 
     personal, for it brings to mind the events that shaped my 
     life.
       It was here that I attended four inaugurations of my father 
     and one of my mother.
       It was here that I heard my father say the words 
     ``segregation now, segregation tomorrow and segregation 
     forever.''
       It was here that my father fought to support a culture of 
     exclusion, riding on the wings of fear rather than seeking 
     justice on the wings of eagles.
       It was here that my mother Governor Lurleen Wallace lay in 
     state following her death at the age of 41 while thousands of 
     Alabamians both white and African American stood in line for 
     hours to pay their last respects.
       It was here that my father met Vivian Malone for the second 
     time and told her that she was an icon of the civil right 
     movement.
       It was at the Dexter Avenue King Memorial Church that my 
     father went to ask for forgiveness for his racist past. A 
     moment that could not rewrite his personal history but an 
     opportunity brought about by my father's own suffering that 
     allowed him to see the hurt of history in the eyes of African 
     American men and women who had been denied the right to live 
     the American Dream.
       But on March the 25th of 1965, as Ralph Abernathy, Juanita 
     Abernathy, Martin Luther King and thousands more gathered in 
     the shadow of this Capitol, there was never an opportunity to 
     address their concerns or state their grievances to the one 
     person who could have changed the course of American History 
     then and there. For Governor Wallace watched through a window 
     in the privacy of his office, while others persevered and 
     changed the history of America without him.
       Today, we must not allow others to make the right choices 
     for us. We must have courage each day to stand up for 
     equality and the rights of all Americans. We must lead by 
     example and live our lives with inspiration, always aspiring 
     to make the choices that lead us to higher ground, that 
     guides us to understanding and purpose of not just who we are 
     but who we can become. An opportunity for each of you, an 
     obligation for all of us, to see others, feel others and 
     celebrate others, respecting their humanity for who they are.
       Working each day to inspire the nobility that lies in the 
     heart of each of us, Martin Luther King taught that there is 
     power in all of us to reach out, to support and stand firm in 
     the belief that all of our lives count for something. There 
     is no better time than now for Americans to hold hands, 
     rather than holding down, the inherent rights of the common 
     man.
       One can never measure the true worth of a mended heart that 
     beats again because someone cared. How many more 
     anniversaries of the struggle for civil rights can we 
     celebrate by looking over our shoulder rather than standing 
     shoulder to shoulder to face the challenges that lay ahead? 
     How can Americans reach for higher ground if we do not 
     inspire others with what we do? We cannot expect the next 
     generation of Americans to do something to change the world, 
     if we aspire to do nothing to protect liberty and recognize 
     our individual obligations to service.
       How can we teach future generations about positive social 
     change if we see injustice and turn our backs? For injustice 
     knows no death. It rises like a dark mist on the horizon, 
     laying low in the hearts of those that are unwilling to 
     accept the notion of unconditional love.
       We must promise that when we say all men are created equal, 
     it means something, protects something and encourages us to 
     embrace the belief that the diversity among us has nothing to 
     do with equality, but has everything to do with strength. 
     Tolerance must be more than what we believe, it must be what 
     we live and leading by example is what we must do. Tolerance 
     does not always mean agreement, but tolerance always requires 
     understanding and compassion for others.
       Very few of us will have monuments built to honor us after 
     we are gone, but ALL OF US can do monumental things each day 
     to help America be better. Those moments in Selma yesterday 
     will stand as a testament to all of our lives. For there is 
     power in moving forward, there is joy in an unburdened heart 
     and there is strength in stepping away from beneath the 
     shadows of your lives.
       I sometimes wonder what my mother and father would think of 
     their daughter that stands here today, and my mind's eye 
     returns to a wood framed house on Eufaula Street in Clayton, 
     Alabama, when life was uncomplicated and happiness was 
     something you lived not something you just hoped for. And my 
     father would smile at me and say ``little girl, you're doing 
     just fine, I sure am proud of you.''
       But for today, I am most thankful for the life and 
     inspiration of Congressman John Lewis.
       Congressman Lewis, in March of 2009 you held my hand and 
     walked with me across the Edmund Pettus Bridge; the very 
     bridge where, as a young man, you were beaten by Alabama 
     State Troopers. That walk with you helped me understand the 
     power of forgiveness and gave me the courage to speak with my 
     own voice. Since that time I have looked for an opportunity 
     to return, in some small measure, the gift of love and 
     understanding you gave to me.
       Fifty years ago, you stood here in front of your State 
     Capitol and sought an opportunity as a citizen of Alabama to 
     be recognized and heard by your Governor and he refused. But 
     today, as his daughter and as a person of my own, I want to 
     do for you what my father should have done and recognize you 
     for your humanity and for your dignity as a child of God, as 
     a person of goodwill and character and as a fellow Alabamian 
     and say ``Welcome Home.''

                          ____________________