John Lewis Transcript of Emory University Commencement Remarks
replayed at his Memorial Service at the U.S. Capitol

JL: I grew up in rural Alabama, 50 miles from Montgomery outside of a little place called Troy. My father was a sharecropper [inaudible 00:09] farmer, but back in 1944 when I was only four years old, my father had saved $300 and with the $300 he bought 110 acres of land. My family still owns that land today.

How many of you remember when you were four? What happened to the rest of us? It was many, many years ago. When we would visit the little town of Troy, visit Montgomery, visit Tuskegee, visit Birmingham, I saw those signs that said “white men,” “colored men,” “white women,” “colored women,” “white waiting,” “colored waiting.” I would come home and ask my mother, my father, my grandparents, my great-grandparents why. They would say, “That’s the way it is. Don’t get in the way. Don’t get in trouble.”

One day in 1955, 15 years old in the tenth grade, I heard about Rosa Parks. I heard the words Martin Luther King, Jr. on our radio. In 1957, I met Rosa Parks at the age of 17.

In 1958, at the age of 18, I met Martin Luther King, Jr. and these two individuals inspired me to get in the way, to get in trouble.

I come here to say to you this morning on this beautiful campus with your great education, you must find a way to get in the way. You must find a way to get in trouble, good trouble, necessary trouble. Use your education. You have wonderful teachers, wonderful professors, researchers. Use what you have. Use your learning, use your tools to help make our country and make our world a better place where no one will be left out or left behind. You can do it and you must do it. It is your time.

In a few short days, we will commemorate what we call the Mississippi Summer Project, where more than 1,000 students from all over America, many from abroad, made a trip to Mississippi to encourage people to register to vote.

On a summer night of June 21, 1964, three young men that I knew, two whites and one African American; Mickey Schwerner, Andrew Goodman and James Chaney went out to investigate the burning of an African American church that was used for voter registration workshops.

These three young men, detained by the sheriff, taken to jail, taken out of jail, turned over to the Klan where they were beat and shot and killed. I tell students today these three young men didn’t die in Vietnam. They didn’t die in the Middle East or Eastern Europe. They didn’t die in Africa or Central or South America, they died right here in our own country trying to help all of our citizens become participants in the democrat process.

As young people, you must understand that there are forces that want to take us back to another period, but you must say, “We’re not going back. We’ve made too much progress and we’re going forward.” There may be some setbacks, some delays, some disappointment, but you must never ever give up or give in. You must keep the faith and keep your eyes on the prize. That is your calling. That is your mission. That is your moral obligation. That is your mandate. Get out there and do it! Get in the way!

In a final analysis, we all must learn to live together as brothers and sisters. We all live in the same house and it doesn’t matter whether we are black or white, Latino, Asian American or Native American. It doesn’t matter whether you’re straight or gay. We are one people. We are one family. We all live in the same house.

Be bold. Be courageous. Stand up. Speak up. Speak out and find a way to create the beloved community, the beloved world, a world of peace, a world that recognizes dignity of all humankind. Never become bitter. Never become hostile. Never hate. Live in peace. We are one, one people and one love.

Thank you very much.

Transcript of Comments by Barack Obama and John Lewis about
President Barack Obama awarding John Lewis the Medal of Freedom in 2011.

BO: There is a quote inscribed over a doorway in Nashville where students first refused to leave lunch counters 51 years ago this February. The quote said, “If not us, then who? If not now, then when?” It’s a question John Lewis has been asking his entire life. It’s what led him back to the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma after he had already been beating within an inch of his life days before.

It’s why time and again he faced down death; so that all of us could share equally in the joys of life. That’s why all these years later he is known as the conscience of the United States Congress, still speaking his mind on issues of justice and equality.
Generations from now, when parents teach their children what is meant by courage, the story of John Lewis will come to mind, an American who knew that change could not wait for some other person or some other time whose life is a lesson in the fierce urgency of now.

MILITARY AIDE: From his activism in the Civil Rights Movement to his nearly 25 years in the House of Representatives, John R. Lewis has dedicated his life to shattering barriers and fighting injustice.

The son of sharecroppers from Alabama, he rose with courage, fortitude and purpose to organize the first student sit-ins and the earliest freedom rides. The youngest speaker at the 1963 March on Washington, a fearless advocate and a distinguished member of Congress, John Lewis has earned our lasting gratitude for a lifetime dedicated to the pursuit of equality and justice for all.

JL: I feel more than lucky, but very blessed. I accept this honor on behalf of countless individuals that previously stood in those unmovable lines, those that were beaten, those were killed in the struggle. I just try to do my little part to help create a more perfect union, to make our country better.

BO: When we award this metal to Congressman John Lewis, it says that we aspire to be a more just, more equal, more perfect union.

Fifty years after his speech at the 1963 March on Washington,
John Lewis remembered with journalist Bill Moyers on PBS.

JL: On marching to the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, we were trying to make it plain, not just to politicians but to the American people. I said to some of my staff and to the people in the Student Non-Violence Coordinating Committee, I said it to Dr. King and the people at NCLC from time to time; we have to pace ourselves because our struggle is not a struggle that lasts for one day or one week or one month or one year or one lifetime. It’s an ongoing struggle.

I said to some of my colleagues in Congress; we must take a long hard look but also believe in a sense of urgency. When people are hurting, when people are suffering, you must be ready to move. You must be ready to act. How long can people suffer? How long can people starve? When we make a decision between children and military might or make a decision between more bombs, more missiles, more guns and mothers and children, the poor, the elderly, you cannot be patient. You cannot wait.

Being in Washington, being on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial was a great feeling, to be standing there in the shadow of Abraham Lincoln. But we have to go back into the heart of Alabama, back to Georgia, back to Mississippi and back to other parts of America to make real the hopes and dreams of a people.

BM: But when you did that in the preceding years, you got your head bashed in.

JL: Well, that was part of the price we had to pay in order to make it real, make it plain, make it simple. Daddy King, Martin Luther King, Jr.’s father used to say to him over and over again, “Make it plain, son. Make it plain.”

On the 50th anniversary of what came to be known as Bloody Sunday, John Lewis recalled the
lead-up to the historic confrontation on Alabama’s Edmund Pettus Bridge for Time Magazine.

JL: We started a series of demonstrations. Standing in line at the courthouse, one evening there was a demonstration for the right to vote in Selma. Confrontation occurred and a young man tried to protect his mother. He was shot in the stomach and few days later, he died at a local hospital in Selma.

We made a decision to attempt to march from Selma to Montgomery to dramatize to the nation and to the world that people of color wanted to register to vote. We started walking. I was one of the leaders of that effort.

I was wearing a backpack before it became fashionable to wear backpacks. In this backpack I had two books. I thought we were going to be arrested and that we were going to go to jail, so I wanted to have something to read in jail. I wanted to have something to eat in that backpack. I had an apple and I had an orange. Since I thought we were going to be arrested and go to jail and I’d be in jail with my friends, my colleagues and neighbors, I wanted to be able to brush my teeth. I had toothpaste and a toothbrush.

We got to the highest point on the Edmund Pettus Bridge and down below we saw a sea of blue, Alabama State Troopers. We continued to walk. We came within hearing distance of the State Troopers and a man spoke up and said, “I’m Major John Cloud with the Alabama State Troopers. This is an unlawful march. It will not be allowed to continue. I’ll give you three minutes to disperse and return to your homes or to your church.”

A young man walking beside me by the name of Hosea Williams from Dr. King’s organization said, “Major, give us a moment to kneel and pray.” Before we could pass word back for people to kneel and pray, the major said, “Troopers advance!” You saw those men putting on gas masks. They came towards us beating us with nightsticks, tramping us with horses and releasing the tear gas.

I was hit in the head by a State Trooper with a nightstick. My legs went from under me. I thought I saw death. I thought I was going to die. I thought it was the last non-violent protest for me. I don’t recall how I made it back across that bridge, across the Alabama River to the streets of Selma back to that little church, but I do recall being back at the church. It was full to capacity, more than 2,000 people on the outside trying to get in to protest what had happened.

Someone asked me to say something. I stood up and said, “I don’t understand it, how President Johnson can send troops to Vietnam and cannot sent troops to Selma Alabama to protect people who only desire to register to vote.” The next thing I knew, I had been admitted to the Good Samaritan Hospital there in Selma Alabama with 16 other people.

The next morning, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and his colleague, the Reverend Ralph Abernathy came to visit us in the hospital. Dr. King said, “Don’t worry, we will make it from Selma to Montgomery and we’ll get a voting rights act passed.” He told us that he had urged religious leaders to come to Selma.

On Tuesday, March 9th, more than 1,000 ministers, priests, rabbis and nuns came to Selma and they marched to the point where we had been beaten two days earlier. That Tuesday night, one of the young ministers went out with two others to find something to eat. On the way back from a little restaurant, they were attacked by members of the Klan. This young minister, James Reeve was from Boston. He was so severely beaten that he was taken to the hospital in Birmingham Alabama where he died two days later.

Selma gave us the Voting Rights Act the way Birmingham gave us the Civil Rights Act and the March on Washington gave us the Civil Rights Act. If it hadn’t been for Selma, if it hadn’t been for the March on Washington, we wouldn’t be where we are today and there would be no Barack Obama as President of the United States of America.

On the 50th anniversary of Bloody Sunday in March of 2015, United States President
Barack Obama delivered remarks about John Lewis on the Edmund Pettus Bridge.

BO: It is a rare honor in this life to follow one of your heroes and John Lewis is one of my heroes. Now, I have to imagine that when a younger John Lewis woke up that morning 50 years ago and made his way to Brown Chapel, heroics were not on his mind. A day like this was not on his mind.

Young folks with bedrolls and backpacks were milling about. Veterans of the movement trained newcomers on the tactics of non-violence, the right way to protect yourself when attacked. A doctor described what tear gas does to the body while marchers scribbled down instructions for contacting their loved ones.

The air was thick with doubt, anticipation and fear and they comforted themselves with the final verse of the final hymn they sung, “No matter what may be the test, God will take care of you. Lean weary one upon his breast, God will take care of you.”

Then, his knapsack stocked with an apple, a toothbrush and a book on government, all you need for a night behind bars, John Lewis led them out of the church on a mission to change America.

As John noted, there are places and moments in America where this nation’s destiny has been decided. Many are sites of war; Concord, Lexington, Appomattox, Gettysburg. Other are sites that symbolize the daring of America’s character; Independence Hall and Seneca Falls, Kitty Hawk and Cape Canaveral. Selma is such a place.

One afternoon 50 years ago, so much of our turbulent history, the Saint of Slavery and anguish of Civil War, the yoke of segregation and tyranny of Jim Crow, the death of four little girls in Birmingham and the dream of a Baptist preacher. All that history met on this bridge. It was not a clash of armies but a clash of wills, a contest to determine the true meaning of America.
Because of men and women like John Lewis, Joseph Lowery, Hosea Williams, Amelia Boynton, Diane Nash, Ralph Abernathy, C.T. Vivian, Andrew Young, Fred Shuttlesworth, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and so many others, the idea of a just American and a fair America, an inclusive America and a generous America, that idea ultimately triumphed.

Now as is true across the landscape of American history, we cannot examine this moment in isolation. The March on Selma was part of a broader campaign that spanned generations. The leaders that day were part of a long line of heroes. We gather here to celebrate them. We gather here to honor the courage of ordinary Americans willing to endure billy clubs and the chastening rod, tear gas and the trampling hoof, men and women who, despite the gush of blood and splintered bone would stay truth to their North Star and keep marching towards justice. In the days to come, they went back again and again. When the trumpet call sounded for more to join, the people came; black and white, young and old, Christian and Jew waiving the American flag singing the same anthems full of faith and hope.

We respect the past, but we don’t pine for the past. We don’t fear the future. We grab for it. America is not some fragile thing. We are large in the words of Winton, containing multitudes. We are boisterous and diverse and full of energy, perpetually young in spirit.

That’s why someone like John Lewis at the ripe old age of 25 could lead a mighty march and that’s what the young people here today and listening all across the country must take away from this day. You are America! Unconstrained by habit and convention, unencumbered by what is because you’re ready to seize what ought to be. For every where in this country, there are first steps to be taken. There is new ground to cover.

Fifty years from Bloody Sunday, our march is not yet finished, but we’re getting closer. Two hundred and thirty-nine years after this nation’s founding, our union is not yet perfect, but we are getting closer. Our job is easier because somebody already got us through that first mile. Somebody already got us over that bridge.

When it feels the road is too hard, when the torch we’ve been passed feels too heavy, we will remember these early travelers and draw strength from their example and hold firmly to words of the prophet Isaiah; “Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on the wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not be faint.”

We honor those who walked so we could run. We must run so our children soar! And we will not grow weary for we believe in the power of an awesome God and we believe in this country’s sacred promise. May he bless those warriors of justice no longer with us and bless the United States of America. Thank you everybody.

A few days after John Lewis passed on July 17, 2020 at the age of 80, comedian Stephen Colbert on his
Late Show on CBS remembered John Lewis and one of his earlier visits to the show.

SC: This weekend we lost a giant, a friend of the show and friend of the America we all aspire to, Congressman John Lewis. John Lewis was a hero. That’s a given. Everybody knows that, but we tend to carve our heroes in marble and forget the other sides of them like the fact that John Lewis was fun. I’m not the only one who interviewed John Lewis on this show though, so did Jon Batiste.

JB: What are some things that you could share with me that I can pass on like some sayings? What are some good catch phrases or sayings that you have imbedded in your psyche that you remember?

JL: Well, sometimes you can censor someone when they say something hostile or mean. You can say, “You don’t believe that. You really don’t believe that.” “Your mother didn’t teach you that.”

In 1961, the same year that President Barack Obama was born, black people and white people couldn’t be seated together on a Greyhound bus or Trailway bus. In May of 1961, my seatmate was a young white gentleman. The two of us left Washington and we arrived at the Greyhound Bus Station in Rock Hill South Carolina. A group from the Klan beat us and left us lying in a pool of blood when we tried to enter this so-called “white waiting room.” This is May 1961.

Many years later to be exact in February of ’09, one member of the Klan who had beaten us came to my office in Washington with his son. He said, “Mr. Lewis, I’m one of the people that beat you and your seatmate.” He said, “Will you forgive me? I want to apologize.” His son started crying. He started crying and I said, “I accept your apology. I forgive you.” They hugged me. I hugged them back and I started crying. That’s the power of peace and the way of love and non-violence. As Dr. King said, “Hate is too heavy a burden to bear.”

JB: Hate is too heavy a burden to bear.

JL: Yes. Love is a better way. For all of the people that beat me and arrested me and threw me in jail, I don’t have an ill feeling at all, not at all. I feel free.

JB: I feel good. I feel free.

Congressman John Lewis, thank you very much.

JL: Thank you very much, sir.