I met with Dr. King and Malcolm X at the Seattle World's Fair

As a child one year old, who was a passionate audience. I caught a small war and civil rights racism could be ugly. I knew that two kinds of people participated, and what seemed, but otherwise I do not like. I was afraid, and it seemed that people were attacking each other for no reason. I somehow "lied" to myself, thinking it was something unimportant everything.

I remember seeing the story Two speakers at the Seattle World's Fair of 1961 in a famous local newspaper. I could not choose the name of Martin Luther King and Malcolm X, but that was it, as I was too young to actually be able to read. I wanted to deny that something was wrong, and think that both men were black television artists, famous people could safely watch from a distance. I did not like many things adults.

I asked Mom and Dad if I could go, as my mother seemed interested going to the event. They said yes, and next thing I knew, we were there. We were visiting my grandparents in Washington state and was an easy trip up Bremerton Ferry Dock. Then we crossed Puget Sound on the ferry, which was so new to me, one of the most wonderful experiences of my life. I've never seen a boat large before.

It was my first time at sea, and I was seduced by the black water, gray and blue flowing beneath the ship and people were on the ferry, and several huge ship story itself. There was space for about three houses on it, and a place, you can have lunch, we did. I took my parents to take the whole boat, and tried to cross areas were surrounded by a rope, jogging in the legs around the sea with new wonder. When it came time to hit the port, the sound of the foghorn ferry left me eardrums I cried a lot, but I was happy, and he quickly calmed down. Then we went down the stairs to the car, was soon in downtown Seattle. The first thing I wanted was up to the Space Needle.

"No, my mom said," Daddy's afraid of heights. We can not go there. "I was so disappointed and frustrated when my parents took me to see a man standing inside a crowd, buried a little, but shook hands with people passing through it. "It's Martin Luther King, Jr." So what I think unfortunately for me, but as we approached, the crowd parted in front of me like the Red Sea, allowing me to directly to humans.

I stood two meters from him. To be a year old, I stared at the two legs of the dark gray trousers, which were thicker than tree trunks and a pair of heavy boots, black, shiny. I took my eyes slowly upward, and had an enormous belly that came out, floating above it has a vaguely dark side familiar. It reminded me of Frosty the Snowman, Santa Claus or maybe that was too wide face, lips, and a giant big nose and wide. But the darkness of his face was unknown to me, since I was a white child with white parents. Never really seen a black out there as before. And the face looked at me.

"Well hello, little girl. What is your name? "Cara is coming more and more like the big man bent down to greet me." How are you today? "

I to myself, It is important that I do not like this man. There is something in it, and it would be a mistake not to love. However, the general shy and easy to scare a year of age I was a child, I retreated, fearing imminent lowered her face to me, and the hand that has me down to the little hand. I decided to rebel.

"No, you're … not my dad, I love you! Go! Uh, goodbye, I'm done as a way to be polite, not really wanting to offend the strange man stressed and annoyed but things were strange. I ran to the left. I saw my parents enough, as they had apparently left me with Dr. King to go for a ride, and I distinctly remember having to run after them. Halfway, I looked back. Dr. King was even lower your head, I had run so fast. But he smiled as she watched my performance. I think he thought I was just scared.

I took my parents. Feeling so ashamed of myself, I asked if we would talk. "Yes," said my mother. Then we went to another mob, which was full, and I could not see anything. I asked my dad to let me ride his shoulders, and he did. I posed with her legs around his neck and his head slowly, but still could not see over the crowds and noise.

After a long time, Malcolm X has finally arrived. Was joking, and I remember him saying something about people who think he wanted to "kill white people" and no, no did. I do not remember most of what he says, but for some reason, probably his famous personal charisma, I remember more and more to feel sorry for him, and some sympathy for his cause developed within me. I do not know who he was, but it looked good, and not fear.

I was frightened by a black man who was kind and polite to whites, and ended up loving a black man who had been militating against them, I want a separate nation for blacks. Such are the nuances of children little ones who believe they know what is happening.

I asked Dad let me fall on his shoulders, still unable to see Malcolm X, but after hearing speak for some time. I have not had the courage to stand on the shoulders of my dad, but I do not pull your hair short of crew and hurt. I, and we went, we went by the Space Needle.

"Please, Dad, we take you there, I prayed fervently. Dad looked at me and smiling broadly and vaguely obscure its face wrinkled in perplexity. No doubt had heard what I said to Martin Luther King: "No, you're not my dad!" as if my father was my master and protector.

"Well, honey, come on. Come to the needle. Come here." We went to lift gold and for the first time I went to the Space Needle. The view was fantastic and there was a lady explaining how we have been doing and all that. I understood more of what he says, but do not know how to assess the progress made towards the sky.

We were on the bridge, and looked through a telescope that does not cost a penny, looking over the entire region of Queen Anne in Seattle. It was so wonderful, I've always wanted to see. Then we went to lunch at the revolving restaurant, which was even better. But in the end we had to take the elevator down and go home. Just before our departure, we visited the tourist shop, and I bought a yellow plastic space needle about six inches high, I think, and also hit a dime in a machine for the quarter. I really had to pray hard to get as many memories for me.

We went to the ferry dock, take the big boat again. Twice in the way, I had put my hands over my ears to block noise terrible fog horns blasting. It was the worst part of the whole trip. But my father, which would normally be a hard man, who was so nice be able to overcome his fear of heights to take us to the needle for lunch. I was so grateful, and returned to Bremerton and visited a little more with our family, most of whom has since died. It's been so long.

I remember a subsequent trip to Seattle Center, where my sister Connie and I went to the Bubbleator, which is no longer there – But in the 1960s seemed the height of science and pure pleasure. I swore then and there that I would one day in Seattle and science.

I came to live in Seattle, but he studied writing instead. I am now a freelance writer Pro, ghost writer, copy editor, proofreader and writer. I think ghost writer of books for people. But always remember our trips to Washington, When I was little, grow and learn, and the day they perversely refused to shake hands ready dark Martin Luther King, Jr. (I inches away from his holding my little fingers!), but turned against my "racism" (girl very shy and be a little tired) by the spirit and wisdom of Brother Malcolm X Shabazz.

About the Author

Executive Director and President of Rainbow Writing, Inc., Karen Cole writes. RWI at http://www.rainbowriting.com is a renowned inexpensive and affordable professional freelance writers, book authors, ghost writers, copy editors, proof readers, coauthors, manuscript rewriters, graphics and CAD, digital and other photographers, publishing assistance and screenplay writers, editors, developers and analysts service.

Navy SEAL Fitness Challenge- Seattle 2009