When the news came that Dr. King had been killed, I was devastated and filled with hatred. Less than a month later, it came time for my final exams. That meant that after seven years I had the possibility of graduating. My advisor told me that I was looking okay, but that I needed an “A in something.” Speech was my best shot, but our final was somewhat unorthodox. We were required to “imitate” a speaker that we admired. In 1968 at Georgia, there were no black football players, no black basketball players, and almost no black classmates. I chose Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.