Just a few minutes from the Mississippi river near Downtown Memphis, the Lorraine Motel would pass for any of the scores of roadhouses that abound in the USA. Except that it stands out as a towering marker in the country’s modern history. It was here that Martin Luther King Junior, the pre-eminent civil rights activist, was assassinated over half a century ago. But rather than just turning into a mere memorial, the motel, with added structures around it, was established as the National Civil Rights Museum in 1991 and the room that Dr King occupied has been preserved in its original condition.
There’s nothing much to indicate its presence before turning into Mulberry Street, but once on it, it is difficult to escape the museum’s overwhelming presence.
What immediately stands out is room 306 on the first floor with a wreath on the balcony, which is where Dr King was assassinated. A couple of old cars stand underneath and a plaque explains the importance of the room and the museum itself.
The museum’s goals, that of not only preserving but also creating awareness and educating about the tumultuous and inspiring period of change, assume paramount importance as it examines today’s global civil and human rights issues, provokes thoughtful debate and serves as a catalyst for positive social change.
Interestingly, as Memphis celebrates its bicentennial birthday this year, these goals seem all the more relevant in a world that continues to be rocked by movements for human rights and social justice.
Spread across two buildings, the mainstay of the museum, considered to be among the USA’s foremost heritage and cultural museums, is the Lorraine Motel building.
It starts with a brief history and origins of slavery and quickly becomes overwhelmingly poignant as it traces the American Civil Rights Movement. Pictures of people crammed into small ships and posters advertising the sale of slaves through auction manage to shock visitors out of their comfort zone and the sense of being unsettled is constantly at hand.
As the exhibits continue from one room to another, it provides a brutal lesson of the civil rights movement. From Jim Crow (racial segregation) laws to the spread of resistance, from violent assassinations to peaceful student sit-ins, from stories of bussing experiences to tales of valour from across the country, but especially in the South, wandering around the exhibits spread over more than a dozen rooms under various periods is a rather moving experience.
What makes the experience overpowering are the personal stories, interactive exhibits, films, oral histories and dramatic exhibits.
Like the mock-up of a restaurant where sit-in protests were done or a real-size bus to demonstrate racial segregation and reference to Rosa Parks, as well as the allusion to Mahatma Gandhi and the nonviolence movement.
So emotional is the experience for many visitors that it is not uncommon to see people openly teary-eyed and weeping.
As well as strange and coincidental encounters, such as an old and frail lady who suddenly chanced upon a photograph of her husband when he was very young and tasked with escorting a young girl during the height of bussing.
Or an African-American mother trying to explain to her three girls about their heritage and the ancestry.
Throughout the museum, Dr King’s presence is a constant with photographs and excerpts from his speeches; especially gripping are his famous ‘I have a dream’ and ‘I’ve been to the mountain top’ speeches. These are complemented by his famous quotes such as ‘The great glory of American democracy is the right to protest for right.’ But nowhere is his presence felt more than in the room which he occupied just before being assassinated.
It has been preserved in the original state and seems a bit stark with white bed, sheets, chair, a rotary phone and black and white photographs on the walls but a series of plaques takes visitors through the fatal day.
Stepping out from the museum into the harsh daylight, the feeling of unease still lingers while the head swirls with images from this slice of turbulent history. In a way, that’s perhaps the biggest of the museum’s goals—to get people thinking.