My mom put me to bed the night she died. I know she tucked me in, not only because others have told me, but because that's what she always did.

Of all the memories that have slipped away after 30 years, I can still vaguely remember our nighttime ritual. She would sit at my bedside and play with my hair to put me to sleep. Sometimes she'd read to me from this old paperback Bible story book. I always wanted to hear the one about the parting of the Red Sea. As a young child, I was fascinated that a body of water could actually be split down the middle for safe and dry passage. Really? Then it had to have been a miracle! And of course, in my mind, the color of that sea was Kool-Aid red.

I don't know which ritual she chose the night she died. I just can't remember. I so wish I could.

Its amazing how the mind works; it's actually quite brilliant. The various modes of the mind, as I call them. I suppose as a means of protection and survival, I blocked a lot of memories out of my conscious mind. I was in my early 20s when it occurred to me that a dream I couldn't quite shake might actually be a memory from the night of her death.

I woke up in the middle of the night and was trying to get down the hallway. That is where the dream began. But the door at the end of the hall was closed, which was very odd. I tried to open it, but someone on the other side of the door was keeping me from that. I remembered her face, as she finally peeked through and said, "Now you can't come in here right now. It's OK, just go back to bed."

And that's just what I did. When I woke up the next morning I didn't remember any of that. I woke up feeling like a 7 year old, but as I entered the living room, I was surprised to see that momma was not awake, yet. It wasn't like her to sleep late, I thought. Without hesitation I ran and jumped into her favorite chair to keep it warm for her until she woke up.

But she wasn't asleep, she was gone. As in dead, and her body had already been removed from our home. As a little girl, I just didn't understand. As an adult looking back on that morning, I cannot imagine how hard it was for my dad and grandmother to watch as I turned from an ambitious child to broken little girl in a matter of moments. I think I truly shut down. I remember hearing them say something about her heart, and that she died, and that mom was in heaven now.

It was as if I was frozen. I could hear them but I didn't want to. How could this be? How do we fix this? When can I see her again? Yes, it was at that moment that I lost ambition, drive, momentum--I lost my mom. Although I never admitted it to anyone, I couldn't visualize my future. No career, marriage or family. I just wanted to grow up, grow old and die, so I could be with her again.

It is a skewed way of thinking, but from the imaginative mind of a child, I just wanted to push the rewind button. But time was the enemy, as it slowly passed. I'd wake up, night after night, thinking all of it had been a bad dream. I'd wake up, tip toe across to my parents bedroom and peek in. As if I thought she'd be there, asleep with my dad--but she never was.

This went on for some time. Until one day, I didn't wake up and immediately think of her. I was grateful to not have the immediate yearning in my heart for her, but so scared at what not thinking about her constantly would mean. Was I forgetting her? Disrespecting her memory? Becoming numb? As a child I chose the path of least resistance. To my senses and emotions, it was easier to move on, not fully process or deal with her death, because eventually we'd be together again. You know, when I grew up, and grew old, and died.

I never forgot about her, but it wasn't until my 30s that I intentionally started thinking about her. Trying to conjure up as many memories as I could. Longing to celebrate our short time together, not forget. Letting myself be moved by all the wonderful memories, I freely shed tears, and smiled at the same time. I was so glad I had remembered where I'd buried those memories ... in my heart, of course.

The only thing left was to sort out the dream or, rather, the pieces of memory. Sometime in the middle of the night, after putting me to bed, she died in our home. The woman at the end of the hall wasn't a dream, she was protecting me from seeing my mom being taken out of our home after the coroner had pronounced her dead. I am so grateful for her, and for not having witnessed that. I'm grateful that those memories didn't surface until I was strong enough to deal with them. I'm grateful to see my mom in the reflection when I look in the mirror. Although I still can't remember the details of our nighttime ritual before she died, I've got so many other amazing memories. For those, I am most grateful.

In loving memory of Shirley Ann Baker.

When I was in elementary school, my family lived in an apartment complex. My dad was just beginning a career in sales, and Mom stayed home and took care of three or four kids, including me and my kid sister.

Summers were always fun; sick days, not so much. Imagine these small children, too young for kindergarten but slightly older than toddlers, all in a two-bedroom townhouse apartment with my mother. Somehow she managed and we kids simply didn't know any better or different.

A few years later, Mom started her official career in childcare at the daycare at St. Dominic's Hospital, called Domini-Care. She started in a toddler classroom, but moved to new babies shortly thereafter where she stayed until she retired in 2011. Chances are, if you had a child enrolled at Domini-Care between the mid '80s to 2011, Mrs. Robin took care of them.

A couple of years ago, I had stopped in for a visit (probably to borrow some lunch money). Most of Mom's co-workers were like extended family to me. A young man in his early 20s walked in and someone asked Mom if she remembered him. Not only did Mom remember him, she remembered his siblings! I am still amazed that Mom could recognize this young man who she took care of as a baby. I further realized Mom's rock-star status at St. D when Dad had some surgery and it felt like half the staff at St. D stopped in to check on him, just because they knew he was Mrs. Robin's husband.

I understand that it is a big deal when a mother has to return to work and leave her new baby in daycare. It's nice and convenient to be able to stay home and take care of the kids, and I applaud the women who are able to do that, but I also realize that in this day and age, most women have careers and work in addition to being a mom.

Even in retirement, Mom is doing what she does best. While my cousin's husband was serving in Afghanistan, she helped out with the family's children. Remember the kids from the apartment? One of those kids now has three boys of their own, and Mom takes care of them during the week.

This summer, Mom is finally going to take some time off and travel. In addition to raising my sister, Lindsay, and me, she helped raise countless of other little ones.

Mom, as I reflect this week, I realize the many hats you wore as we were growing up and I now know that you were always a little more than just my mom.

"No one else will ever know the strength of my love for you. After all, you're the only one who knows what my heart sounds like from the inside."—Unknown

The long walk without a mother can be beautiful in some ways. A motherless daughter that herself becomes a mother truly cherishes every moment with her baby, because she knows how deep that connection runs, while simultaneously experiencing the greatest love that a mother has for her child.

My mother passed away when I was 21. Her death cast a large shadow over my life. The first year without her was filled with overwhelming grief. When we spread her ashes in the Gulf of Mexico, I really thought I lost my mother entirely. In that moment, I thought of her hands, her laugh, how her watch was worn loosely around her wrist and even the smell of her facial cream. It was true; I did lose all of those tangible things.

My efforts as an artist explored the depths of my emotions. When I finally realized how it consumed me, I let go inch by inch. After a full decade of focusing on how I didn't have a mother, I noticed how many things I was doing in the hopes that "she'd be proud." I was comforted knowing that I never truly lost my mother entirely--she lived in my heart. She was a guardian angel making miraculous things happen around me.

The day I became a mother brought great healing. I was a full decade away from my loss, and I knew there would be no room for sadness because I was now a mother to a daughter who needed me. When I acknowledged this truth, I walked fully out of the shadow of loss, ready to embark on a new adventure with my daughter.

Making our own new memories as mother and daughter excited me. I think I took it a little overboard throughout her first year of life by documenting every single moment. I suppose it's fairly common for a motherless daughter to fear that she too may die early, so she leaves a trail of things to make sure that the child knows how much she is loved.

During the first year of my daughter's life, the dialogue with my mother changed. I wondered if she held me like I held my daughter. If I naturally had some of the same mannerisms as her, did I naturally mother my baby as she did me? The first time my daughter had a stomach bug I held a cold rag on the back of her neck and would touch her forehead like my mother did for me. In that moment, I felt my mother's presence with me. In that moment, I learned that a daughter never fully loses her mother.

I only occasionally wonder how my mother would be as a grandmother. I have such a strong relationship with her in spirit and have great peace and joy counting my blessings having a stepmother and a mother-in-law that not only love me, but absolutely adore my daughter. Watching their roles shift into becoming grandmothers proves that motherhood is more complex than actually giving birth. Their mothering spirit of nurturing and caring and their desire to be present in all ways shape my view of motherhood. During my journey, my ideas of motherhood have evolved, at least partly because I have been mothered by so many strong women along the way--even when they did not know it.

"Our revolution is for the better idea; it’s not just for the change in colors."

Chokwe Lumumba terrifies many white people in Mississippi--and he knows it.

In the months leading up to his second-place finish in Jackson's Democratic primary election that propelled him into a runoff against businessman Jonathan Lee, Lumumba has started to, well, whitewash parts of his biography that some whites and middle-class blacks might find threatening.

But whether it's a function of aging with wisdom, election-year pandering or a true metamorphosis in his thinking, lately Lumumba has been showing a side of himself that surprised people who have observed his career over the years.

Now, Lumumba devotes a good deal of time talking about his family's own diverse racial heritage, the camaraderie he experienced among fellow basketballers of all races and nationalities, the poor whites he has represented vigorously in the courtroom or the relationship he was able to build with former Gov. Haley Barbour.

Lumumba is also mindful to tell people that despite his co-founding of the Malcolm X Grassroots Movement, his name is African, not Muslim, and that he is a member of Word and Worship Christian Church in Jackson.

During the 1970s, Lumumba went to law school and became a founding member of a group whose main goal was to obtain land for an autonomous nation in the southeastern United States for black people. As part of the organization, Lumumba helped purchase the first parcel of land near Jackson for the nation-state that would become the home for the Republic of New Afrika, or RNA, to be situated in Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Georgia and South Carolina.

Those plans, like the lives of so many civil-rights leaders of Lumumba's era, were short-lived, ending dramatically on Aug. 18, 1971, with a famous early-morning shootout in west Jackson near Jackson State University, in which a Jackson police officer was killed.

Starting in the late 1970s, Lumumba became an attorney of choice for high-profile clients. In some of those cases, his activist training has landed him in hot water with judges and the bar. But where relationships with the mayor's office has often been rocky with neighboring counties and the Mississippi Legislature, Lumumba offers his lifetime spent "asking, organizing, (and) sometimes demanding" as how he'll tilt the balance of power in Jackson's favor to represent the capital city's interests.

In the case of Jamie and Gladys Scott, whom Gov. Haley Barbour--who had denied a similar request in 2006--granted clemency in 2011 for an armed robbery that netted the sisters between $11 and $200, depending on who testified, Lumumba, then the sisters' attorney, said he offered Barbour an opportunity to do the right thing.

"What we were aware of was he was talking about running for the presidency," Lumumba said. "We knew that if that issue was to go beyond Mississippi and somebody was to hear about two women being in jail for $11 when seven men had been released on pardon for killing their wives or girlfriends, that was going to be disturbing to a lot of moderate Republicans that might have been considering him. So we felt as if we had a way to make our interests his interests."

Cultural Racism

Before shedding his given name of Edwin Taliaferro, Lumumba was baptized Catholic. The son of a Kansas-born father and Alabama native mother, Lumumba remembers early "intercourse with cultural racism" that included restaurants in then-all-white Dearborn, Mich., refusing to serve his family and a local white neighbor falsely accusing his brother of having snatched her purse.

At age 8, Lumumba recalls seeing the photograph of Emmett Till's brutalized face on the cover of Jet Magazine, a moment he calls the pricking of his political consciousness. Thirteen years later, when Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, Lumumba felt it was time to get involved in "the movement." It wasn't King's preaching of nonviolence that resonated with Lumumba, who had cousins killed by the police in Michigan, but rather beating Jim Crow.

"I didn't have a philosophy of 'hate white folks' because the police were messing with us. My thing was fairness, and I was offended by unfairness," Lumumba told the Jackson Free Press in March.

In 1969, while studying law at Wayne State University in Detroit, Lumumba was one of 18 students who sued for what they believed was a discriminatory grading system after taking over the law-school administration building, demanding reinstatement of failed students and calling for an anonymous grading system.

Lumumba first came to Jackson in the early 1970s as a civil-rights activist and vice president of the Provisional Government of the Republic of New Afrika. In March 1971, the RNA bought land outside Jackson for its black nation; RNA members believed that, without an independent black state, African Americans would never have representation in government.

"The Republic of New Afrika has been miscast like they were flip side of the Ku Klux Klan. When we came to Mississippi, it was the Klan that put up signs that said, 'N*ggers, we're giving away free 6-foot holes,'" Lumumba told the Jackson Free Press earlier this year.

Five months after the RNA bought the first parcels for the would-be country, on Aug. 18, 1971, Jackson police and agents from the FBI raided the heavily armed house used for RNA's headquarters in west Jackson at dawn with no warning, even bringing the infamous Thompson tank. Police Lt. Louis Skinner died in the shootout, and another police officer and a bureau agent were wounded. Lumumba was not involved in the shootout that resulted in the arrests of 11 RNA members including its president, Imari Obadele, who also was not on the scene.

Lumumba went back to Wayne State, where he graduated first in his law school class, and from 1976 to 1977 worked for the City of Detroit's Defenders Office before co-founding a Detroit law firm.

An Activist First

Over the years, while living in Mississippi, Lumumba developed a roster of high-profile candidates across the country.

"When you're involved in those struggles (and) then you become a lawyer, you're in high demand for people who have those kinds of cases," Lumumba said.

Lumumba's reputation as an activist earned him a laundry list of high-profile and sometimes controversial clients including Fulani Sunni Ali, indicted in the 1980 Brinks armored-car robbery for whom Lumumba secured an acquittal; the sometimes-irascible hip-hop artist Tupac Shakur; Lance Parker, who was accused of trying to shoot the fuel tank on Reginald Denny's 18-wheeler during the Los Angeles riots after the Rodney King verdict in 1992; and Mississippi's Scott Sisters.

In 2002, Lumumba represented a 13-year-old named Elliot Culp, who was convicted of nine counts of rape, kidnapping and robbery in Holmes County. Culp, who Lumumba claimed did not receive a fair trial because of racially tinged media coverage of the trial.

It wouldn't be the last time Lumumba would attempt to put "the system" on trial, so to speak. In 2005, the Mississippi Bar Association suspended Lumumba's law license for six months for saying in court that Leake County Circuit Judge possessed "the judicial demeanor of a barbarian." Lumumba was not, however, disbarred, and Gordon went on to preside over the manslaughter trial of Edgar Ray Killen, finally convicted for the role he played in the deaths of three civil rights workers in Neshoba County in 1964.

Lumumba also represented the owners of a Jackson nightclub, the Upper Level, in 2008, after then-Mayor Frank Melton vowed to close the business down as "a public nuisance."

The Hinds County Chancery Court sided with the city in 2008 and imposed expensive new requirements on the club, including increased security, a pricier insurance plan and better record-keeping of employees. Club owners were unable to afford the expensive new requirements, and the club closed. Lumumba was also outspoken against Melton's violation of the rights of African Americans in his nighttime tours of Jackson in JPD's Mobile Command Unit.

In 2009, Lumumba won the Ward 2 seat on the Jackson City Council, replacing Leslie McLemore.

Since taking his seat, Lumumba has repeatedly called for greater participation of Jackson residents in city contracts. Lumumba said since African Americans compose 80 percent of the city, blacks should represent a higher percentage of the companies that do business with the city as well as make up proportional percentage of the overall workforce in the city.

To many people in Jackson, Lumumba's plans sound frighteningly like he wants to redistribute the city's wealth, taking from hard-working white job creators and giving it to the less deserving, shiftless black majority. Despite his comparison of Jackson to the "taxation without representation" that sparked American colonists to take up arms against the British crown, Lumumba said he is not calling for a violent overthrow of Jackson's white power brokers.

"We're not looking for a bloody revolution in the city of Jackson. We don't want to offend anyone else's rights. How ever many white people there are in Jackson, they have to be treated by the highest levels of human standards as anybody else, because if we don't do that, not only do we offend Martin Luther King's philosophy, what we do is betray our own revolution," Lumumba said.

"Our revolution is for the better idea; it's not just for the change in colors. So it's not a question of whether in a predominantly black jurisdiction that you've got to oppress white people. Where that notion comes from, I don't really know," Lumumba said

During his mayoral bid, Lumumba has said he wants to look for ways to grow the city's population, which had declined steadily over the past 20 years but appears to be showing some signs of new life.

For example, Lumumba said the city should market itself to immigrant populations. While serving on the city council, he authored an anti-racial profiling ordinance to stand in opposition to legislative efforts to criminalize undocumented immigrants living and working in Mississippi, one of the most rapidly growing regions for Latinos in the nation. He also wants to give city workers pay raises to spark economic growth.

If elected mayor, Lumumba said he would push to get a new developer for the Farish development project, expand participation in summer youth jobs programs and try to get rid of a state commission that would have oversight of funds raised through a one-cent sales tax for infrastructure projects. Lumumba said the commission deprives Jackson of allowing their popularly elected representatives determine the economic fate of the city.

"I don't think that is done in other cities and it shouldn't be done in Jackson," Lumumba said.

Read more about Chokwe Lumumba at jfp.ms/chokwelumumba.

"You Can Be Right or You Can be Happy"

Jonathan Lee may not be a business owner, but he rode his business credentials to becoming the top vote-getter in the city's Democratic mayoral primary.

The 35-year-old husband, father and former businessman earned a spot in the May 21 runoff by running an on-message, well-funded campaign that has spanned at least a calendar year. He has consistently criticized police department morale, political gridlock, and Jackson's education system and crumbling infrastructure.

Lee, who holds both an undergrad and master's degree from Mississippi State University, proposed early on that he would find a way to create and pay for free after-school care for every child in Jackson, emphasizing the need to re-incorporate more arts and sports into public schools throughout the city.

"If we're looking at it pragmatically," Lee said, "you could, essentially, be driving down the crime rate, (and) at the same time helping bust those test scores. So when we're trying to attract business from out of state, or even from in the state, Jackson all of sudden becomes a better place to do business, because we have a great school system."

Likewise, Lee's message on infrastructure deficiencies seemed to ring louder in voters' ears than incumbent Harvey Johnson Jr.'s pitch for ongoing improvements in many of the city's major thoroughfares. Lee has a plan to allow bedroom communities to buy into Jackson's water-treatment facilities in order to create revenue to pay for looming Environment Protection Agency-imposed fines and infrastructure improvements that the mayor warned would remove Jackson from a leadership position with the facility.

The Long Run

Lee has been setting himself up to be mayor of Jackson for far longer than this election cycle. In fact, most everything Lee has done since his return to Rankin County nine years ago and Jackson four years ago seems to have been building to the upcoming May 21 runoff between him and Ward 2 Councilman Chokwe Lumumba for the mayorship of Jackson.

When Lee moved back Rankin County from Starkville, where he earned two degrees and served as student body president, he seemingly jumped into every committee and onto every board he could find.

Lee ran his parents' business as president of Mississippi Products Inc. from 2004, when his father died, until December 2011, and became chairman of the Jackson Chamber of Commerce, a sub-chamber of the Greater Jackson Chamber set up to help businesses inside the city, the same year he and his wife moved into Jackson. He also served on the board of directors for Operation Shoestring, Midtown Partners, the I.S. Sanders Farish Street YMCA, the Greater Jackson Arts Council, the Mississippi Minority Business Alliance and Mississippi Baptist Medical Center.

The candidate won his support running as a small business owner, which he recently admitted that he has never been. He did lead MPI, a disposable-goods supplier and warehouser for government agencies in the city and state, as president from the time of his father's untimely death in 2004 through 2011. But that's where the certainty ends--and questions about his business history and his veracity about it begin.

On April 24, in response to questions about four lawsuits his company had lost over non-payment to out-of-state vendors, Lee laid the lawsuits at the feet of his mother, telling the JFP editorial board that he had stepped down as president Dec. 31, 2011, to run for mayor full-time. But a 2012 corporate report, dated Oct. 8, 2012, indicated that Jonathan J. Lee was president as recently as last fall, which he adamantly denied in 
the interview.

Lee did resign as the company's "registered agent" Dec. 21, 2011, a week after the first of five known companies sued MPI. Indeed, in an interview dated July 4, 2012, seven months after Lee says he stepped down as president, he told the JFP that "I run a business on the corner of Valley (Street) and Raymond Road," referring to the location of MPI.

The companies that filed suit against MPI received default judgments for what Lee estimated was about $200,000 because MPI did not show up in court to defend itself or respond to legal complaints for longer than a year. The candidate maintains this is a natural and normal business dispute and that his family's company is working through the issues. MPI recently responded to the newest complaint, by Amsterdam-based Diversey Inc., which has not yet reached the judgment stage.

The Front-Runner

These controversies do not, however, preclude Lee from being elected mayor, and 35 percent of primary voters--11,929 people--seemed more than happy to overlook assertions from incumbent Johnson that another candidate "got (their) business driven into the ground."

In past Jackson elections, observers have been tempted to define mayoral candidates by race, even though most candidates for the job are usually African American. That narrative has arisen in this election too, and an analysis of precinct data pretty much affirms that the electorate in the current election is as racially polarized as ever.

Based on Census tract data used to draw voting-precinct lines, Precinct 34 in Ward 1 has the highest proportion of white voters in the city at 99 percent. Lee drubbed Lumumba in that precinct with just over 90 percent of the vote. Lee's next closest competitor there was incumbent Mayor Harvey Johnson Jr., who garnered 6.3 percent of the vote.

That trend continued through the 11 precincts with the largest percentages of white voters, all of which are located in northeast Jackson. In these precincts, which average 1 percent to 15 percent African American voters, Lee captured an average of 79.6 percent of votes compared to 11.2 percent for Johnson and 3.4 percent for Lumumba.

Lee did poorly as the percentage of black voters increased, however. In the top 11 solidly black-voting precincts, which are located throughout the city and range from 100 percent to 84 percent African American, voters chose Johnson or Lumumba over Lee.

That could be because Lee has stayed on-message through the poor news cycles, indicating that his promise to be a change agent has, so far, spoken louder than the judgments against his businesses or his opponents' charges that he could sacrifice Jackson's control over its own interests such as the waterworks facility or the state-tax commission.

Lee and Lumumba seem to be polar opposites politically and ideologically, but the most glaring difference may be their views on legislative oversight tied to Jackson's proposed 1-percent sales tax increase. The current legislation, as it stands, would create a committee to oversee the spending of the added revenue from the tax that includes members from outside the city--legislation that applies to only Jackson, not other municipalities. The commission would contain eight members nominated by the Greater Jackson Chamber, which is routinely much more conservative than Jackson's electorate. The mayor would select four commissioners from the chamber list. (Its incoming chairman, for instance, is Andy Taggart, former ueber-Republican Gov. Kirk Fordice's chief of staff and a strident opponent of anything Democratic, including President Barack Obama.)

Lumumba, along with outgoing Mayor Harvey Johnson Jr., sees the commission as a slap in the face to Jackson and a way to erode Jackson's local control over its own citizens' tax dollars. He also believes it might keep enough voters from passing a sales tax referendum.

Lee says he doesn't like the commission, but would not let it derail implementation. He would allow the sales tax to go to a vote later this year, he says, even with the commission requirement in place. "You can be right, or you can be happy," he said at a debate before last Tuesday's primary.

"I think in a city like this, in an urban environment, that's going to be the way we get things done: nontraditional, out-of-the-box ways to really involve the entire community, working together to solve a problem," Lee said last year.

The Unifying Candidate?

Although he campaigned as third-generation son of Jackson, Lee spent many of his formative years outside the city.

Lee was born in Jackson in 1978, and spent the first decade of his life in the capital city, where his father was a prominent member of the community. When he was 11, Lee's family moved to Rankin County and, eventually, enrolled him at Northwest Rankin High School.

His campaign web site, jonathanleeforjackson.com, says he is the son of two Lanier High School graduates, but doesn't mention where Lee got his high school education. He graduated from NWR in 1996 and did not move back into Jackson proper until 2009 and voted for the first time in the city 29 months ago.

But the Lee campaign has tried to shake that Rankin County tie since its inception, when he announced his candidacy on July 31, 2012, in front of his grandmother's former home at 1320 Perkins St. in Jackson's Georgetown neighborhood.

Lee drove his maroon SUV with a Rankin County tag until Aug. 13, 2012, when he registered a Hinds County tag.

Another rumor, seized upon by the Johnson campaign, said that Lee voted as a Republican. This rumor, the most non-story of all the allegations against Lee, is only marginally true.

Lee told the JFP editorial board that he voted once as a Republican in Rankin County, which is about as conservative a county as exists in the United States, to vote for a neighbor in the 2009 primary race (with Gov. Haley Barbour heading the ticket), but could not recall the neighbor's name. Records show that he also voted in the Republican primary runoff in the same election. In the same interview, Lee alleged that three of his mayoral opponents, including Lumumba and Quinn, also voted Republican in the past, which they deny.

Records show that Lee has consistently voted in Democratic primaries otherwise, and has called the charge that he is a DINO (Democrat-In-Name-Only) "ridiculous political posturing."

Regardless of his voting record, Lee has plenty of Republican and even ultra-conservative support. An analysis of Lee's 2012 and 2013 campaign-finance reports, as well as the Jackson 20/20 PAC (which, to date, has given thousands of dollars to Lee's campaign advisers and just $250 to a council candidate), shows that many of the donors are heavy Republican supporters. He also shares many of the same supporters of Frank Melton in his successful 2005 bid and Marshand Crisler's second-place finish in 2009.

His conservative donors don't necessarily mean Lee is a Republican, but it does raise questions in the minds of many Jackson voters, who overwhelmingly vote Democratic. This year, there isn't a single Republican in the mayoral race--because it is conventional wisdom that a Republican cannot win a local race in solidly blue Jackson.

Republicans have lined up behind Lee, who has spun his well-funded campaign by saying he is a candidate for all of Jackson.

In a debate two weeks ago, Lee stepped out of any politician's comfort zone to talk about the racial and economic divide we have in Jackson. He acknowledged publicly the fact that roughly 80 percent of Jackson's population is black and wields incredible political power, and that the 20 percent that is white wields economic power. He said the only way both groups can coexist is to come together and work toward common goals.

It could have been an honest moment for a candidate who has ties to both communities--or it could be a way to redefine his staunch Republican support. Lee has pitched himself as a unifying figure; now it's up to Jackson voters to decide if they believe him on May 21.

Read more about Lee at jfp.ms/jonathanlee.

When it finally arrived a week after state law said it was due, Chokwe Lumumba's campaign-finance form revealed that he raised a fraction--20 percent--of the amount first-place finisher Jonathan Lee raised going into the May 7 Jackson municipal elections.

Dated May 6, the report shows that Lumumba raised $68,753 since the beginning of the year and spent $59,292, leaving the campaign fund with $17,963 in cash on hand.

Categorizing Lumumba's donors is a tricky endeavor. Eleven people on Lumumba's form list their address as "N/A" despite Lumumba's admission that he has held at least three out-of-state fundraisers in the California Bay Area, in New York City and in Washington, D.C., but none of the people on the donor form list addresses near those cities.

Lumumba has explained the out-of-town fundraisers saying that fellow human-rights activists throughout the country support his candidacy. Saladin Muhammad, a North Carolina labor leader, gave $1,000. The Washington, D.C.-based Black is Back coalition that advocates for reparations, single-payer health care, ending U.S.-led wars, freeing prisoner Mumia Abu Jamal and other "U.S. political prisoners/POWs/exiles" and rescinding the Patriot Act, gave $265. Eve Rosahn, who was indicted for providing a getaway car in a famous 1981 Brink's robbery, also gave $265. Prosecutors eventually dropped the charges against Rosahn, who works at a legal-aid clinic in New York City.

Several attorneys, law firms and businesses donated as well. Lumumba's largest donor was attorney Barry Howard who contributed $10,000 while Lumumba gave himself $4,500 in two installments. Howard has given to at least one Democratic candidate for statewide office, Gary Anderson, who ran for insurance commissioner in 2007. Dr. Demitri Marshall of Port Gibson gave $2,000 and Jeannette Felton, also of Port Gibson, gave $1,000.

Fidelity Refund and Check Cashers, whose telephone number went to an AT&T store in Michigan when called last week, gave $300; Moore's Used Auto Sales on Gallatin Street in Jackson, gave $1,300 and La Quinta Inn and Suites gave $500. Marlboro, Md.-based Bowie Construction LLC and Jackson Fuel each gave $500. A1 Bail Bond in west Jackson gave another $500.

John Burge, whose address is not listed on the form, contributed $3,500. Michigan attorney Adam Shakoor, a former law partner of Lumumba's who has contributed to Democratic and Republican candidates in his home state, gave Lumumba $1,000. Cochran Firm Mississippi, the local branch of the law office the late defense attorney who represented O.J. Simpson founded, and Precious Martin Sr. & Associates, each gave $1,000. Lumumba's law partner, Harvey Freelon, gave $1,100.

Top Contributors

Barry Howard, attorney, $10,000

Chokwe Lumumba, $4,500

John Burge, unknown, $3,500

Demitri Marshall, physician, $2,000

For anyone still on the fence over whom to vote for in the Democratic runoff next Tuesday, it's likely that reading through the Jackson Plan will move his or her vote into one column or the other. Clearly, white conservatives may run screaming.

The controversial plan, also known as the Jackson-Kush Plan, and the J-K Plan, is chock full of black-nationalist ideals, including a decentralized government run by committees of "the people," and is peppered with politically loaded words like "solidarity," and "organizing." Its authoring source--it would not be correct to say that any one person wrote it--is the Malcolm X Grassroots Movement and the People's Assembly, organizations fully embraced by mayoral candidate Chokwe Lumumba. In fact, Lumumba is a founding member of both groups.

"The roots of our Assembly model are drawn from the spiritual or prayer circles that were organized, often clandestinely, by enslaved Africans--to express their humanity, build and sustain community, fortify their spirits and organize resistance," the plan states.

The plan has three main pillars:

• Building people's assemblies, a concept rooted in the Black Liberation Movement, which seek to "resist the systematic exploitation and terror of white supremacy and to exercise and exert some degree of self-determination," and build "autonomous power outside of the realm of the state (i.e., the government) ... with the express intent of building radical voting blocks and electing candidates."

• Building a network of progressive political candidates. The key strategies for people's assemblies are "mounting an effective defense and offense" by "building an independent political force that challenges the two party monopoly." The plan cites the 2009 election of Lumumba to the Jackson City Council and the 2011 election of Hinds County Sherriff Tyrone Lewis among its accomplishments.

• Building a local solidarity economy, defined as "a process of promoting cooperative economics that promote social solidarity, mutual aid, reciprocity and generosity," and include "worker cooperatives to informal affinity based neighborhood bartering networks." Specifics of this pillar also include housing co-ops, community development credit unions, local urban farms and farmers markets, working with young people to increase civic engagement and challenging "right to work" laws. Expanding green public transportation and creating a network of solar and wind generators is also is among its goals.

Read as a campaign platform, the plan can come off as a scary blueprint of a future devoid of democracy-as-we-know-it. After all, at its heart, the plan seeks to supplant the two-party system in Jackson, in Mississippi and beyond.

A close reading shows that the plan is, perhaps more than anything, open for interpretation. It could be less a blueprint than a statement of fact regarding the history and current economic status of blacks, poor people, women and other marginalized groups in Mississippi. It could also be seen as a wish list of how to change that marginalization through political and economic power "by any means necessary," although it acknowledges that "we cannot afford to ignore the power of the state."

The plan seems more philosophical in nature than political. It seeks to create a "deepening and expanding democracy in the state ... that can be employed today to enhance civic engagement and participation."

In that context, statements that may initially sound militant and radical could take on a softer edge:

"This alliance will intentionally be multi-national in its outlook and orientation, but be based in and lead (sic) by Black working class communities and forces. We assess our strategic allies being the growing Latino community and various immigrant populations. .... The strategic nature of these forces rests with our common interest in eradicating white supremacy and institutional racism. This alliance will also give due focus to building principled relationships with white progressive forces throughout the city and state who are essential to the current and foreseeable balance of power in the state. Our immediate aim is to win enough of these forces over to our vision and program so as to weaken, if not altogether neutralize, aspects of white conservative power in the state."

It is worth noting that although Lumumba is running under the Democratic Party banner, the plan makes a distinction between the traditional Democratic Party and the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party of the mid-1960s. It's the MFDP--borne directly out of the African American civil-rights struggle--that Lumumba and other members of the MXGM say they represent.

Read the entire Jackson Plan here.

Donna Ladd blogs: Chokwe Lumumba Talks about the 'Jackson-Kush' Plan on 'Solidarity' Site

Jonathan Lee ($144,500) - Jackson, Miss.

Lee cut a check for $140,000 to his own PAC "Friends of Jonathan Lee" on March 29, a day after his campaign paid that same amount out to LUC Media out of Marietta, Ga.

Carol Biedenharn ($15,000) - Jackson, Miss.

Biedenharn is a 1974 graduate of Louisiana State University's Laboratory School and mother of four. She serves on the board of the Mississippi Children's Services, and has not made any other political contributions that we can find.

William & Lillian Cooley ($15,000) - Jackson, Miss.

The Cooleys go way back with Lee's family, and have known him almost all his life. Bill Cooley is a businessman, retired professor at Jackson State, prominent Democrat and a mentor for Lee. The Cooleys have not given to any other political campaign since 2011, but the Cooley family did collectively give $3,000 to the Jackson 20/20 PAC, which paid Lee's campaign team $17,600 in 2011.

Gloria M. Walker ($5,000) - Jackson, Miss.

Walker married Bill Walker, the original owner of every Bill's Dollar Store, in 1965. She has given $30,000 to the Republican National Committee and $15,000 to the National Republican Senatorial Committee since 2011, and in 2012 gave the Mitt Romney presidential campaign $5,000.

Robbie W. Hughes ($3,000) - Jackson, Miss.

Hughes, of Hughes South Corporation and Hughes Oil, contributed $30,725 to the Republican National Committee in June 2012, and gave Mississippi Senator Roger Wicker $1,000 last year.

Leland Speed ($2,500) - Jackson, Miss.

Speed is well-known around Jackson as a prominent Republican businessman. He gave the Mitt Romney presidential campaign $3,500 in 2011 and 2012, the Republican Party of Mississippi $5,000 on Dec. 31, 2012, and Republican National Committee $2,000. He also gave $2,000 to Frank Bluntson, who has now endorsed Lee.

Betsy Creekmore ($2,500) - Jackson, Miss.

Betsy Creekmore, whose occupation is listed as a homemaker, gave $5,000 to Miss. Senator Roger Wicker and $2,400 to Miss. Senator Thad Cochran. She also gave Mitt Romney $500, the Republican National Committee $900 and the Republican Party of Mississippi $300 in 2011 and 2012. Her husband Wade Creekmore is President and Director of Telepax, Inc. He gave $2,400 to Cochran, $2,000 to Texas Governor Rick Perry and $1,000 to Gregg Harper in 2011.

Joe N. Tatum ($2,000) - Raymond, Miss.

Tatum is a shareholder in the firm of Tatum and Wade, PLLC. The Jackson State University grad received his law degree from Mississippi College. We cannot find any other political donations for Tatum.

Ergon State PAC ($2,000) - Jackson, Miss.

The political action committee for one of Mississippi's biggest companies has given to both Democrats, like Bennie Thompson, and Republicans, such as Roger Wicker, in the past year.

Randy James ($1,500) - Jackson, Miss.

James, of Pruitt Oil, has donated money to Mississippi Rep. Gregg Harper, and supported the controversial Better Jackson PAC in 2009, which funded campaign mailers for Marshand Crisler.

Some donors above have also contributed to the Jackson 20/20 PAC, which also supports Lee and gave money to his campaign staff in 2012.

Also see: Jonathan Lee Backers Gave More Than $1.2 Million to Republicans.

Crime:

Lee: Would fire JPD Chief Rebecca Coleman and work on changing the culture of the fire and police departments.

Lumumba: Would involve reorienting the values of marginalized people who might be susceptible to committing crimes; wants to enter quasi-agreements with people who are arrested to refrain from criminal activity in exchange for certain considerations.

Education/Youth:

Lee: Calls for creating free after-school care that includes art, music and sports programs.

Lumumba: Would expand the city’s two-month summer jobs programs to enhance city beautification efforts and instill discipline with respect to attitudes toward work.

Water/Infrastructure:

Lee: Wants to involve regional partners; doesn’t want to raise utility rates or float bonds to pay for projects.

Lumumba: Wants to increase water revenues, then use the funds to pay for infrastructure upgrades.

Jobs/Economy:

Lee: Calls for leveraging development within the medical corridor and taking advantage of federal job training and other programs.

Lumumba: Views giving raises to city workers as stimulus program, which would inject more sales-tax revenue into the city’s coffers.

Development:

Lee: Wants “inclusive” development that makes sense for entire community; lacks allegiance to any particular

development.

Lumumba: Touts the way he handles business issues on the zoning committee by adjusting zoning and permit requirements for certain projects; supports waterfront development.

1-Percent Sales Tax; Commission:

Lee: Does not like the oversight commission, but would move forward with putting the issue to a vote later

this year.

Lumumba: Does not support the oversight commission because it deprives Jackson citizens of the right for their duly elected representatives to make fiscal decisions on the city’s behalf.

It all began April 2012. I was sitting at my computer, and an email came through about the Paul Lacoste Fit 4 Teaching program. Typically I would have deleted anything about fitness or remotely related to exercise. I don't like to exercise. I've never been one to take a long run to clear my head and, in high school, I only ran track because it was co-ed.

So I surprised myself when, the next thing I knew, I was opening the email and reading it. And then I was actually considering signing up. This is the first time I believe the alien abduction occurred: I was replaced by a doppelgaenger.

My imposter proceeded to apply for the program and started us on a fitness boot camp escapade. Leading up to the first day, I was anxious--my stomach was in knots. I had so many questions. Would I be able to survive eight weeks of intense training? Would I break or sprain something? Would Paul yell at me?

Prior to hitting the Madison Central High School football field, all participants had to do a premedical evaluation. We were measured and weighed and then it was time to hear from the man himself--Paul Lacoste. In walks this tall, shaved-head, buff dude with a huge smile on his face. I was befuddled. This man before me was different from all the stories I'd heard about "scary Paul." I thought for sure he was going to walk in and have us all drop down and give him 100 sit-ups. Yet, here he was standing before us, smiling. But as he told us more about what we would be during the program, I could see flashes of the intensity he is known for in his eyes. At one point, he even warned us that we would see a different side of him once we hit the field.

By this time, I was getting a little twitchy, wondering what I had gotten myself into. I had already turned in my $720 accountability check, so there was no turning back. I spent the weekend trying to mentally prepare and barely slept on Sunday night.

Monday morning came sooner than I would have liked. When my alarm went off at 5 a.m., I wanted to beat it with a mallet and roll over and go back to sleep. Nevertheless, I crawled (stumbled and probably cursed, just a little--I asked God for forgiveness for that) out of bed and jumped in the shower to wake myself up. I was out the door by 5:15, because there was no way I was going to be late.

The ride over to Madison Central was quite solemn; you would have thought I was driving myself to my very own execution--dead woman walking. Once there, I said a prayer in the parking lot and got out my car.

As part of our first day pre-fitness test, we had to run a mile. I had seriously not run a mile since college ... maybe even high school. But there I was, slogging around the track at a snail's pace, ready to pass out. I cried, prayed, hemmed, hawed, cried some more and cursed my doppelgaenger for getting me into this. Several times I wanted to walk off the field and tell Paul he could have my money. But I stayed the course and came in dead last.

That first week was horrible. I was sore all over and I felt completely defeated. How could I have let myself get so out of shape?

In spite of all my aches and pains, as the weeks passed I got stronger and started to feel better. I started eating better and tracking my calories at home and began to see progress when I stepped up on the scale for our weekly weigh-ins. I shared my successes and failures on Facebook with friends.

At the end of the program, I had shaved several minutes off my mile--and I wasn't even the last person to finish. I lost pounds and inches, and started to regain a part of myself that I thought was gone or had died. I stayed the course and was proud of all I had accomplished. It was more than I thought I was capable of.

I am still a work in process. I don't have any banging before and after photos yet, but I'll get there. I even completed Warrior Dash on April 20--we're talking 3.6 miles of mud, barbed wire, climbing walls and getting stuck in mud-filled ditches.

I'm not going to lie. I considered not applying to do Fit 4 Teaching this summer. I tried to rationalize (make excuses) about why I shouldn't or couldn't, yet in the end I--not my doppelganger--decided that this was an opportunity, dare say, a blessing I just can't pass.

So at end of May, this non-morning person will be out on the field once again at 6 a.m. with my running shoes laced up and my game face on, ready to sweat and take another huge step to being a healthier me. I'll be working toward leading the full life God intended for me to have. No doubt, I will still be in the slowest group and my knees will most certainly still grind and creak, but I am committed to giving all that I have to give.

And as Paul would say ... 1, 2, 3 ... Next level!

What's Your Level?

Training with a specific goal in mind usually leads to better results. You can sign up for a race to match any athletic ability--from 1-mile fun runs, to 5Ks (3.1 miles) and 10Ks (6.2 miles), to half marathons (13.1 miles) and full marathons (26.2 miles), all the way to ultramarathons (up to 100 miles).

In the running world, a seemingly endless debate rages--what shoes will maximize your running potential? One camp swears by minimalist running shoes, characterized by being lightweight and having a super thin sole--Vibram Five Finger shoes with the separated toes are the most recognizable minimalist shoes, although many manufacturers make them with a more traditional enclosed toe box. On the other side of the debate are those that argue that runners need more support from 
their footwear.

Whatever your running shoe preference, the most important thing is to learn how to correct your stride to work with your body type, shoes and running experience. For many, that means moving from a heel-first strike pattern to a ball- or toe-first strike pattern, called "forefoot" running. In his famous book "Born to Run" (Knopf Doubleday, 2011, $15.95), Christopher McDougall chronicles his journey to relearn how to run while pursuing the question, "Why does my foot hurt?"

Before jumping in to forefoot running or minimalist shoes, it's vital to learn the correct methods. Ask an expert at your local athletic shop, such as Fleet Feet Sports (500 Highway 51, Ridgeland, 601-899-9696) or StinkyFeet Athletics (153 Ridgeway, Suite C, Flowood, 601-992-1439).

When it comes to running, most people find more motivation in a social setting. Enter fondRUN. FondRUN is a monthly pub run that normally occurs during Fondren After 5, a late evening monthly opportunity to stroll, shop and dine. The run begins and ends at a different location each month, such as Babalu, Sneaky Beans or Brent's Drugs.

Created by liveRIGHTnow's healthy living strategist and trainer Terry Sullivan, the run is a 2-mile, easy-paced opportunity to connect with fellow runners and see more of Fondren. "We've purposefully picked a route to show off different parts of the neighborhood," Sullivan says.

LiveRIGHTnow has a mission to create and support a healthier population through services and products that are focused on local business and agricultural development and environmentally friendly practices. The liveRIGHTnow program consists of weekly consultations, personal training sessions and a lifestyle plan. The program has also helped several of their clients participate in their first 5K and reach goals in as little as six weeks. With summer approaching, now is the perfect time to choose a race in the future and begin training. LiveRIGHTnow will begin by teaching you proper running mechanics, then engage in one-on-one core, balance and flexibility training, all while conducting weekly practice runs.

The most recent fondRUN was a special occasion: Fondren After 5K, a more structured race than the usual route. Awards were given to winners in the Overall Male and Female, and Top 3 in age groups 19 and under, 20-29, 30-39, 40-40 and 50+.

During the run, participants see beautiful neighborhoods and Fondren shops, take on Fondren's challenging hills, including Old Canton Road, and hear live music. After the race, runners return to enjoy drinks, food and shopping. The first round of beer is usually "on the house" at a different location each month thanks to Southern Beverage.

In the first Fondren After 5K, more than 100 people ran through the Cherokee Heights and Oak Dale neighborhoods of Fondren. Runners began and ended their race outside of M!SO, grabbing a free beer at the end and listening to Patrick Harkins play and sing. The event is sponsored by the Fondren Renaissance Foundation, Fleet Feet, Southern Beverage, Babalu Tacos & Tapas, Rod's Racers, Studio Chane Screenprinting, Patrick Harkins, McDade's and M!SO.

To participate in the next fondRUN or Fondren After 5K, visit liveRIGHTnowonline.com.

I hate running.

I hate exercise. I hate healthy food. I love boneless wings and cheese sticks and cookies, and I love "World of Warcraft."

In college, the game was a way for me to wind down in my stressful life, and it ignited my imagination because I've always loved knights and ladies and dragons and the like.

I frequent gaming websites, and I read about people losing weight by playing the game while on a stationery bike or a treadmill. All it takes is a simple hack to an exercise machine, and an obese man could lose 100 pounds just by questing and running around Azeroth. They are inspiring people, but I'm not a handyman, so I can't attach my laptop to a treadmill and play while running.

I've always had weight problems, like everyone else, but mine are more serious because of the fact that I'm fully grown at 5'2" and have belly fat. Doctors and my mother have told me for years that the way this extra weight is carried could lead to diabetes and other horrid things.

Their warnings never carried much weight until my most recent doctor's appointment, when it was discovered that my triglycerides were double the normal level. This basically translates to high cholesterol. They asked me to come back in three months for more blood work.

Frightened by that notion, I listened this time and tried my hardest to fix it, but two and a half months in, I was still 165. I made some changes, such as having a smoothie every morning to help with the lack of fruit in my diet, but the changes didn't seem to be enough. I knew something had to change, though, because losing weight wasn't the only goal anymore. I was really scared that my doctor would put me on cholesterol medication at the age of 23.

I've had many arguments with my boyfriend Jon about all of this. He promised to help me time and time again, but what did he do? What every man does for their lady. He gave me what I wanted. He told me I was beautiful and that he didn't think I was fat, even though we both knew he did. I got fed up one night, tired of trying different things and failing every time. I told him that he needed to come up with a plan. I was out of ideas.

He mulled it over for a few days, and when he started formulating a plan, all I could get from him was that it involved a point system, and I would get prizes later on. He emailed me the plane late one night, and due to his love of video games, I wasn't surprised by the title.

It read, "The Demise of Flabbus the Large." It was a quest.

Without going into the details, the Adventurer--that's me--is asked by High Lord John B'rant--a character named after Jon--to defeat a monster named Flabbus. He is guarded by Dark Lord Kohless ter'Houlis, whom I have to get through before the final battle. To do this, I must strengthen body and mind, and I must walk a mile and a half five days a week to get to my destination. The quest takes place over a few months, broken down to by week. There are ongoing tasks, such as the walking and doing yoga in the morning and before bed. Other tasks include eating greens and trying new fruits and even taking a whiff of a candy bar and throwing it away for extra points.

Like "World of Warcraft," I get experience points for each thing I do, bonus points for the extreme things I do--like the candy bar thing. Unfortunately, the xp works like the game--I don't get the points if I don't do the tasks every day. To make this easier, I take photos of my daily walk, the food I eat, and some of the things I do, and I put them onto a blog and write some post to the High Lord about my day.

Even now, as I sit here writing this, I want to slip back into my old habits. I want Coke and sweet tea, and I want to be able to eat a cheese stick and not worry about calories or whether or not I'm about to get heartburn.

But the idea of this being a quest keeps me wanting to try hard, even though I hate doing all these things. I ate a handful of almonds, and the other night I made kale chips. I never do any of those things. This is easier than going on some fad diet like Weight Watchers or using weight-loss pills. Believe me, I've been on Weight Watchers. It works, but it doesn't really instill the value of eating right. I lost 20 pounds on the program, but I gained it back within a matter of months because I didn't know how to eat right. I spent most of my time during Weight Watchers counting points.

I am counting points on this, but the points aren't calories. They're evidence of my efforts, evidence that I'm trying, and there's no turning back. Things haven't been perfect. I let rain be my excuse to not walk and then don't exercise, and some days I forget to take photos or write posts. I do try in other areas, though. I do yoga every morning and night, and I try to fit healthy eating into my busy schedule. These small steps are what moves me forward.

It gets easier. I will say that. I'm beginning to enjoy yoga, though I still find it hard to take my attention away from a TV show or get out of bed early. I still hate walking and running, and the rain makes it harder to do it, but quitting is no longer an option. It's a slow process. The journey is long. I have months until I reach the destination, but I will reach it. Just the other day, I looked at the scale and saw 160. This means that for the first time in two years, I might be able to break out of the 160s.

To keep up with my progress on the quest, visit thedefeatofflabbus.blogspot.com.

Relay For Life, dates vary based on location. An event for the American Cancer Society, communities organize overnight fundraising walks. Teams of people camp out at a local track and members of the team take turns walking around the track. Food, games and activities provide entertainment and build camaraderie in a family-friendly environment. Jackson metro dates and locations are: May 18, Rankin-Central Brandon at Shiloh Park (324 Shiloh Road, Brandon); May 31, Madison-Ridgeland at the Renaissance Shopping Center (1000 Highland Colony Parkway, Ridgeland) and; June 7, Hinds-Jackson at Smith-Wills Stadium (1200 Lakeland Drive).

Soak Up the Sun Beginner Triathlon May 25, 7 a.m. at Reunion Subdivision Lake (224 Lake Village Drive, Madison). This beginner-friendly triathlon includes a 200-meter lake swim, 8-mile bike ride and a 2-mile run. Register at imathlete.com. $60. No race day registration. For more information, call Donavon Lewis at 601-201-7032 or email support@msheat.com.

2nd Annual Crayola Classic: Back-to-School Bash Fun Run May 25, 7:30 a.m. at Shiloh Park (Brandon). 10K, 5K and 1-mile fun run to raise money to purchase school clothes and supplies for less fortunate children of Rankin County. Register at active.com. T-shirts for the first 200 registered participants. For more information call Sandy Martin at 601-954-9012 or email sandym951@yahoo.com.

Magnolia Meltdown 10K/5K May 24, 
7 a.m.. at The Club at the Township (340 Township Ave., Ridgeland). All proceeds will go to St. Dominic Community Health Clinic. St. Dominic's clinic provides free healthcare services for the homeless and working poor of the Jackson metropolitan area. Dri-fit shirts are guaranteed to the first 850 runners/walkers. Race will cap at 1,000 participants. Register at 
magnoliameltdown.racesonline.com. $15-$40.

The Bishop's Hog Jog May 25, 8 a.m. at the Duncan M. Gray Camp & Conference Center 
(1530 Way Road, Canton). A 5K trail run/walk to benefit the camper scholarship fund for Camp Bratton-Green. Event is held in conjunction with the Annual Bishop's BBQ. After race festivities include: live music, barbecue, church competitions, and kids' activities. Barbecue plates $14/adult and $/child. Register for the race at bbbq.dioms.org or graycenter.org. $25-$30. For more information, call Grae Dickson at 601-
434-0490 or email thebishopbarbeque@gmail.com.

Fleet Feet Sports Pub Run May 29, 6 p.m. at Soulshine Pizza (1111 Highland Colony Parkway, Ridgeland). Two- or four-mile walk/run that starts at Soulshine. Participants must register at Fleet Feet Sports to be eligible for door prizes. Another Pub Run will be on June 13. Call 601-899-9696. Free.

28th Annual Heatwave Classic Triathlon June 1, 7 a.m. at the Ross Barnett Reservoir (Ridgeland) Will include 1/2 swim, 24.5 mile bike ride along the Natchez Trace Parkway and a 10K run along Ridgeland's heavily shaded multi-use trail. All participants must pre-register. There will be no race day registration. $85-$145. The last day to register is May 30 by 10 p.m. Registration fee will cover T-shirt, swim cap and post-race meal. For more information, contact race coordinator Wendy Bourdin at wendy.bourdin@ridgelandms.org, call 601-853-2011 or visit heatwavetri.racesonline.com

4th Annual Magnolia Speech Sprint June 1, 8 a.m. at Jackson Academy (Raider Park on Sheffield Road). A community event to benefit the children enrolled at the Magnolia Speech School. The school is a private non-profit school for children who are deaf, hard of hearing and language disordered. Register at mss5k.com. $10-$25.

3rd Annual Just Have a Ball 5K June 8, 7:30 a.m. at Fleet Feet Sports (500 Highway 51, Ridgeland). Sponsored by the Rotary Club of Madison-Gluckstadt to benefit The Partnership for a Healthy Mississippi, a non-profit organization that raises the awareness of play as a way to combat childhood obesity. Refreshments will be provided and door prizes. Dry fit t-shirts will be given to those who pre-register before June 1. Registration closes June 7. Download registration form at mstrackclub.com/Results/2013/Ball/BALL13bf.pdf. $15-$60. For more information, contact Chris White at 601-454-2420 or cwhite0926@msn.com; or Joe Lee at 601-668-8572 or dogwoodpress@bellsouth.net.

Fleet Feet Sports Poker Run June 12, 6 p.m. at Fleet Feet Sports (500 Highway 51, Ridgeland). Three mile fun walk/run along the Trace. Participants will pick up five cards throughout the course and the person with the best hand will win a prize at the end. After-run party held at Cazadores (500 Highway 51, Suite R, Ridgeland) with an extended happy hour.

13th Annual Mississippi Kids Triathlon, June 15, 8 a.m. at Reunion Subdivision Lake (224 Lake Village Drive, Madison). The event, sponsored by Stinky Feet Athletics, includes two divisions: junior division, ages 7-10 (75 yard swim, 3.1 mile bike ride and 0.6 mile run) or senior division, ages 11-14 (150 yard swim, 6.2 mile bike ride and 1.2 mile run). A USA Triathlon race license is required for every child participating. Proceeds of the race go to Mission First. Mission and their Field of Dreams Project. Mission First, founded in 1999, is an inner city, a non-profit missions organization designed to serve others the way Christ served during his time here on earth. The have six main programs that meet tangible needs and share Christ: children's educational programming, sports ministries, community development programming, medical & dental services, legal assistance and a comprehensive wellness program. Register at mskidstri.com. $35-$40. For more information email race director, Stan Galicki at galics@millsaps.edu or 601-974-1340

Father's Day Walk 4 Life June 15. Sponsored by Pro-Life Mississippi. For more information, call 601-956-8636.

Five K for the Fatherless June 22, 8 a.m. The run will start and finish near the First Methodist Church (234 W Jackson St, Ridgeland) on a course through the streets of Olde Towne Ridgeland and the West Jackson Historic Overlay District. All proceeds 

benefit 200 Million Flowers, a non-profit committed to making the connection between children in need of love and people that have love to give by promoting, and facilitating adoption, foster care, social services and mentoring. There will also be a one-mile fun run for children under 12. Register at 200millionflowers.org. For more information, contact Ann Regan Bilbo at 601-248-3338 or annreganbilbo@gmail.com; or Lyndsey Hester at 601-790-1188 or lyndsey@200millionflowers.org.

Watermelon Classic July 4, 7:30 a.m. at the Mississippi Sports Hall of Fame (1152 Lakeland Drive). Come celebrate the 30th anniversary of the classic. Organized by the Mississippi Sports Hall of Fame and sponsored by Farm Bureau Insurance. The 5K run/walk also includes the Blue Cross Blue Shield of Mississippi one-mile run and a tot trot for ages 3 & under. Registration forms available at the Sports Hall of Fame, Baptist Healhplex or Fleet Feet. Register online msfame.com. No race-day registration. For more information, call 601-982-8264.

Battle Tested July 6, 8 a.m. at Liberty Park (Madison). All proceeds of this 5K and 1-mile fun go to help the CJ Stewart Foundation purchase a 193-acre camp formally known as Camp Kickapoo. Centrally located in Clinton, the camp has three lakes, campsites, hiking trails, and multiple locations for an outdoor pavilion, amphitheater, obstacle courses, rope courses, and a rope repel tower. The camp will serve as the home of Down Range, an outdoor adventure camp helping youth develop character traits and life skills by learning to overcome challenges. Mississippi native and combat-wounded veteran CJ Stewart started his foundation to help prepare our next generation overcome life's challenges. Register at cjstewart.org. Registration closes on July 4.

4th Annual Tri4Life August 10, 7 a.m. at the Ross Barnett Reservoir (Fannin Landing Boat Launch, Brandon). A sprint triathlon with a 1/3-mile swim, 16-mile bike and a 5K run. All proceeds from the event go to support the Center for Pregnancy Choices, a non-profit Christian organization in the Jackson metro area. Register at tri4life.net. $55-$140.

Greater Mt. Calvary Nurse's Guild Health and Wellness Day August 24, 7 a.m. A 3.5 walk with the theme of "Walking By Faith." There will be a health education workshop and fair following the race in the John E. Cameron Family Life Center with youth activities and refreshments. Download registration form at mstrackclub.com/Race_info/NursesGuild13f.pdf. $10. For more information call Kerry Loggins, 601-906-4299, or the Nurse's Guild, 601-352-8585.

Chasing Tail 5K October 5, 8 a.m. at Trustmark Park (1 Braves Way, Pearl). 5K and 1-mile fun run. Finish the race with at least one horsetail and be entered into a special raffle. Prize will also to the most creative horsey costume. Race benefits Brandon-based RideABILITY, a therapeutic riding center that helps individuals with special needs build confidence, balance, strength and coordination by learning to ride horses. Register at active.com. $15-$20. For more information, visit rideabilityms.com or call 601-750-6735.

Mississippi 2013 Walk to Cure Diabetes October 19, 10 a.m. at Mayes Lake, LeFleur's Bluff Park (115 Lakewood Terrace). The 3-mile walk raises money for the Mississippi Chapter of the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. Register online at jdrfmississippi.org. Race day registration begins at 9 a.m. For more information call Michelle Colon at 601-981-1184 or email at mcolon@jdrf.com.

Strawberry Classic October 27, 8 a.m. at Madison-Ridgeland Academy (7601 Old Canton Road, Madison). Registration begins at 7 a.m. Benefits the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation. Costumes welcome. $15-$30. For more information, email tpace1780@aol.com.

3rd Annual Hot Diggity Dog 5K & Festival November 3, 8 a.m., at Mayes Lake, LeFleur's Bluff Park (115 Lakewood Terrace). The event, sponsored by Gallant Hearts Guide Dog Center, includes a 5K and 1-mile kids and dogs fun run. There will also be local vendors selling goods, a pet costume contest, food and drinks. All proceeds will go directly to training guide dogs for people who are blind. Registration begins at 7 a.m. For more information, visit gallanthearts.org or call 601-853-6996.

12K's for the Holidays Charity Run November 23, 7:30 a.m. Race fundraiser for The Good Samaritan Center will include: chip timing, free kids' one-mile fun run at 9 a.m., holiday costume contest, stroller division, food, after-race party, door prizes and long sleeve shirt for registered participants. Choose either 12K run or 5K run/walk route through the historic Fondren neighborhood. For information and to register, visit christmas12k.com.

4th Annual Jingle Bell Jog December 7, 7:30 a.m. at Trustmark Park (1 Braves Way, Pearl). The City of Pearl has combined the Jingle Bell Jog, their annual Christmas parade and the Jingle Bell Marketplace into on large event. Children's fun run begins at 8:30 a.m. Proceeds of the race go to benefit Batson Children's Hospital. Register at
 jinglebelljog5k.com.

To stay on top of all race events happening in the Jackson Metro area, check these websites often:

mstrackclub.com

msracetiming.com

liverightnowonline.com

fleetfeetjackson.com

stinkyfeetathletics.com

Add more races at jfp.ms/runJXN.

"If you don't have answers to your problems after a 4-hour run, you ain't getting them."

—Christopher McDougall

"Why do you run?" It's a simple enough question, and one I've been asked many times. My usual answer is that "it relieves stress" or "running makes me feel good." Somehow, though, those answers never seem to quite capture the whole of why running is important to me. The task of running in of itself is pretty simple (left foot, right foot, repeat), but the therapeutic value found in it can be just has hard to articulate as the desire to run in the first place.

I began running by joining the high school cross-country team around the time I realized I wasn't fast enough to be a wide receiver and not coordinated enough to throw a baseball with any accuracy. As I settled into training on a regular basis, I began to experience a new set of emotions that come with miles of pavement and nothing to guide you but your own two feet. What I found is that there is a rewarding value in pushing your body into a submissive state. Distance and time are your only two variables, and every run is an exercise in self-discipline. As I moved on from high school to college, and then into the "real world," running evolved with me and has proven itself to be an effective way to navigate the complicated troubles we all face.

A few years ago, I traveled to Tennessee with a group of friends to try an ultra relay. Covering 200 miles from Chattanooga to Nashville over a weekend, we split the distance between our team of six--around 33 miles for each of us. At the time, I was struggling with a lot emotionally, and felt like a little time on the road (literally) would do some good.

As we settled into the race, each team member took turns pounding the pavement through the hills and into the night. I took the baton for the final time around 3:30 a.m. on a Sunday. Heavy fog settled in and the temperature hovered around freezing. I pushed onward through the hills, not a soul in sight, and for the first time in my life I felt completely alone.

I remember moving along the country road, careful not to leave the white paint lining the shoulder. It was so dark and the air so full of fog that I wondered for a moment if I was having an out-of-body experience. I wasn't though--given how much I could feel my body screaming for relief, I was more tied to it than ever.

As I eclipsed the 30-mile mark, I realized I was in uncharted territory, physically and emotionally. And it was in that moment of loneliness and exhaustion that I realized the pain I had put myself through was now transforming into a groundswell of renewed strength and confidence to face whatever life wanted to throw my way. For the first time, it seemed that every problem I had and would have was conquerable.

So, in some ways, running to me is less about leaving your own struggles behind and more about becoming acutely aware of them and addressing them honestly and in humility. There is something valuable in learning that pain isn't something to be avoided, but to accept as a necessary step in a process of learning and growing. Running is a therapy session for both the body and mind, and it doesn't cost you a dime.

Medgar Evers seemed to know his life was drawing to a close.

A week and a half before he met his fate outside his family's Jackson home, Evers, the Mississippi field secretary for the National Association of Colored People, said if he died, it would be for a good cause: fighting for America.

On June 11, 1963, the day before his assassination, he and his wife, Myrlie, discussed what she would do in the event he was murdered for spearheading a massive voter-registration of black citizens. Myrlie Evers-Williams recalls asking Medgar what she could do to help.

"You're doing it all; just take care of my children," Medgar said.

"Of course I'm going to take care of your children. They're mine, too," Myrlie replied.

That night, Medgar and Myrlie sat on their sofa holding one another because they both felt that the time was near.

That time--the end of Medgar's life--came the following the day, June 12.

At a wreath-laying ceremony on May 16 to commemorate the 50th anniversary of Medgar's assassination, Myrlie recounted the early morning her husband arrived from an NAACP meeting at New Jerusalem Baptist Church, his trunk full of T-shirts emblazoned with the slogan "Jim Crow Must Go."

"Medgar had made a promise that he would always come home a different way--either from that end or this end of the street--and that he would never get out of the car on the driver's side because of the threats that had been made, the firebombing of this house. That night, tired, literally worn out, he got out on the driver's side. And as soon the children said, 'There's Daddy,' the shot rang out--one of the loudest and most powerful I had, and still have, ever heard in my life. And I knew exactly what happened," Evers-Williams recounted at the ceremony at her former west Jackson residence.

"Rushing to the door, I found this man, who was strong enough to endure being shot in the back and his chest being blown away, still alive holding his keys. All I could do was scream."

'He Knew the Risks'

Medgar Wiley Evers was born in Decatur, Miss., July 2, 1925. Medgar and his older brother, Charles, served in the Army during World War II.

Medgar rose to the rank of sergeant before returning to Mississippi and enrolling at Alcorn Agricultural & Mechanical College, now Alcorn State University. There, he met Myrlie Louise Beasley of Vicksburg and the couple married and moved to Mound Bayou in 1952 and then to Jackson in 1957.

In Jackson, Medgar continued to build on work he started in the Delta: organizing NAACP chapters and registering African Americans to vote.

"I love the land of my birth. I do not mean just America as a country, but Mississippi, the state in which I was born. ... I have hopes of the future when we will not have to hang our head in shame or hold our breath when the name Mississippi is mentioned, fearing the worst. But, instead, we will be anticipating the best," Evers said in February 1963.

The Evers family's move to Jackson elevated Medgar and his work to national prominence and, therefore, raised the risk of danger. Medgar and Myrlie would teach their small children to hit the floor whenever they heard a loud sound outside. Instead of putting the living room sofa near the window, it was positioned against the east wall facing the carport. Threats were made in response to Medgar's organizing efforts. In 1962, the Evers home in Jackson was firebombed.

"Medgar knew what he was doing, and he knew what the risks were," Myrlie told Ebony Magazine years later. "He just decided that he had to do what he had to do. But I knew at some point he would be taken from me."

A Southern Tale

The man who took Medgar away was a fertilizer salesman from Greenwood named Byron De La Beckwith. He was arrested 12 days later. Like Evers, Beckwith had served in World War II as a Marine but was also a member of the Citizens Council and Ku Klux Klan. After two trials that resulted in hung juries in 1964, Beckwith was found guilty of Evers' murder in 1994; he died 2001 at age 80.

During Evers' interment at Arlington National Cemetery, Bishop Stephen Gill Spottswood, who chaired the NAACP's board of directors, delivered a eulogy in which he remembered Medgar as a soldier.

"He knew he lived in danger, this Negro leader of the struggle for equality of citizenship and opportunity. He knew, this veteran of World War II, what it meant to serve his country. Does his country know how to serve him, how to make his sacrifice worthwhile? As his funeral services are held today, the people of Mississippi and wherever else Negroes are oppressed will have to realize that the struggle for which Medgar Evers died will continue until freedom is attained," Spottswood said.

Although Medgar's assassination drew national attention, he never craved recognition, Myrlie wrote in "The Autobiography of Medgar Evers: A Hero's Life and Legacy Revealed Through His Writings, Letters, and Speeches," published in 2006.

"Whenever I raised the issue, encouraging him to seek credit for his work, I was always met with an icy stare and firm voice saying, 'It's not about me, it's about the mission and the little people.'"

In the May 16 remembrance in Jackson, Myrlie Evers-Williams said: "When the bullet struck (Medgar) in his back, it forced him forward. He had his keys in his hands and fell up the steps. The bullet ricocheted through this window, hit the wall, went through that wall, knocked off a piece of aluminum tile, struck the refrigerator and left a hole in the refrigerator, and the bullet landed on the countertop next to a watermelon.

"And I said how southern we are--even in death."

Rebecca Docter and Geoffrey Edwards contributed reporting.

A bullet from the back of a bush took Medgar Evers' blood.

A hand set the spark

Two eyes took the aim

Behind a man's brain

But he can't be blamed

He's only a pawn in their game.

—"Only A Pawn in their Game,"

Bob Dylan, 1963

It was raining the morning of May 17, 2003. I was in my office, worrying about what the Jubilee! JAM organizers must be going through. It's hard to make this festival pay off in good weather, not to mention in times of thunderstorms and crime hysteria. I knew the rain, coming on the JAM's big day—Cassandra Wilson, Bob Dylan and Gerald Levert were scheduled that evening—would be playing hell with the moods of the organizers.

The phone rang me out of my trance. Caller ID said it was Charles Evers, a man who, despite some political differences, has become my friend and partner in attempting to bridge racial gaps. I do his radio show, and this magazine is co-sponsoring the homecoming celebration this year, in honor of his martyred brother. He wrote an opinion piece about the Iraq war for us. "Hi, Mr. Evers."

He got to the point. "Donna, do you think you could help me meet Bob Dylan today? I want to thank him for that song he wrote for Medgar when he was killed."

Gulp. I had no clout that could help Mr. Evers meet Mr. Dylan. I also knew how media-paranoid Dylan is, and that his people had told JAM honcho Malcolm White that he would meet absolutely no one at the JAM so don't bother to ask.

But I also knew what "that song" was, and what it meant when Dylan, seemingly blinking back tears, had sung it at the 1963 March on Washington, two-and-a-half months after a bigot had executed Medgar Evers in Jackson in front of his children: "Daddy! Daddy! Please get up, Daddy!"

I shocked myself by saying, "Sure, Mr. Evers, I'll see what I can do. I bet Dylan would love to meet you." I hung up, promising to call his cell phone with updates.

Throughout the day, as the weather improved and worsened again, my quest didn't go so well. Malcolm—who understood the gravity of the request—promised to ask Dylan's manager, but reiterated the singer's demand not to meet anyone. At 6:30, a half hour before the Dylan show, I checked in again, and Malcolm told me the prospect was bleak. Dylan's manager said he might pass by Mr. Evers and shake his hand if he happened to be standing right there. No media, though. I said this wasn't about me; I'd stay a mile away if I had to; this was about Mr. Evers and Mr. Dylan.

I called Mr. Evers, and talked him into coming to the JAM, even without a guarantee that he'd meet the singer. "I have a pass for you; come watch the show with me, and then we'll see what we can do," I told him, and he said OK. I had a sinking feeling, though, that I might be raising his hopes for nothing—except a good show, of course. I met him in the JRA parking garage, and we walked to the VIP stage, with Mr. Evers stopping to shake black and white hands along the way. I remarked that he might be the biggest celebrity there that night. He laughed and slapped my arm. "No way."

The show was excellent, although truth be known the sound was better down in the mud where we watched the encore. I was a little disappointed, although not surprised, that Dylan didn't seize the opportunity to sing "Only a Pawn in their Game." Looking out at the mostly white crowd, gathered on the AmSouth lawn near where the old segregated Woolworth got its 15 minutes of fame in the 1960s, I told Mr. Evers, "I wish people like Mr. Dylan could understand the progress we're making around here these days." Mr. Evers nodded his head. We both knew that Jackson could handle hearing that song if Dylan could handle doing it for us.

Before the show ended, I checked with JAM organizer Holly Lange about where Mr. Evers should stand to get his shot to thank Mr. Dylan. She shook her head: "I'm sorry. It's just not going to happen. We tried, but they've cleared everyone out of backstage. He won't be able to get back there."

I went back and told Mr. Evers. He shrugged, saying that he'd enjoyed the show anyhow. I asked him to come back to our tent afterward to have his picture taken. He graciously said OK.

Mr. Evers was holding court at the tent, looking like he was running for office again as he waved and shook hands, when Holly appeared in the crowd. "Come. Now." she commanded, breathless from running. I pulled Mr. Evers away from a conversation mid-sentence, and she grabbed his other arm. "Mr. Evers, I'm sorry to do this to you, but we've got to hurry," she said, yanking him through the crowd, me attached to his other arm.

When they let us through the fence, the scene suddenly became quiet and reverent with everyone seemingly scared to blink. I stopped next to Malcolm and Holly. Then Bob Dylan appeared wearing his white cowboy hat. He warmly grasped Mr. Evers' hand and held it for a good five minutes while they talked eye-to-eye, heart-to-heart, man-to-man. They both nodded a lot and seemed emotional. I didn't try to get closer. This was between two giants of the Civil Rights Movement, and the man they—we—had lost to hatred. I blinked back tears.

Suddenly, Mr. Evers turned around and took my arm, pulling me forward. Mr. Dylan slowly turned his gaze to my face and reached for my hand. I shook it, just looking into his eyes, as Mr. Evers told him who I was, that I had a newspaper and that we're trying to bridge racial gaps and do good things in Jackson. My heart was in my toes. "I'm honored to meet you" is all I said.

Then Mr. Evers and I turned and walked away, with him hugging me with boyish delight. He thanked me profusely.

I'm the one who is thankful. To Malcolm and Holly and Dylan's people. And to Mr. Evers for letting me be part of his—and, by extension, Medgar's—special moment.

Another good reason to call Jackson home.

This piece ran in the JFP 10 years ago.

Evers Home, 2332 Margaret Walker Alexander Drive.

Thursday, May 16, 2013

Members and friends, for some reason I feel just a little bit nervous. That's unusual, but I think it's emotion more than anything else--emotions that have all of you here, my daughter here. Seeing where we have come from 50 years ago, I've seen Tougaloo accept the gift from the Evers family and to move forward into the future with all that can be done with this gift, I thank you.

I see so many people here who have played such a major part in my life, and I want to thank all of you for what you have done in the name of freedom, justice equality and, quite honestly, of not forgetting Medgar Evers. It's been a long and terrible journey of trying to keep his memory alive. It's a little difficult not to become emotional when I set foot on this soil. I don't care how many times I do it. The memories, the flashbacks, keep coming, and perhaps that's a good thing because it serves as a very strong motivator to keep going regardless of how tired one becomes, to keep going regardless of how old one becomes but in keeping that spirit alive in the name of Medgar Evers and so many others who played such an important role in helping America reach the point it is today.

I am so proud to have been part of the NAACP. Even though there were times that we had disagreements--and don't we as a family?--the goal remains the same: freedom and justice and equality for everyone.

Let me share just a little bit of emotion with you, and I won't take much time. Driving on Guynes Street--that was the name then; it is now Margaret Walker Alexander--the stomach tends to get queasy. I don't care how many times it happens.

You pull into the driveway, and one relives what went on that night--early morning--of June 12, of Medgar driving in to the driveway, the children in the bedroom on the floor saying, "There's Daddy." They knew the sound of the motor, and Medgar had made a promise that he would always come home a different way--either from that end or this end of the street--and that he would never get out of the car on the driver's side because of the threats that had been made, the firebombing of this house. That night, tired, literally worn out he got out on the driver's side. And as soon the children said, "There's Daddy," the shot rang out--one the loudest and most powerful I had, and still have, ever heard in my life, and I knew exactly what happened.

Rushing to the door, I found this man who was strong enough to endure being shot in the back and his chest being blown away still alive holding his keys, and all I could do was scream. Because the night before we had talked about this very thing happening, and I asked, "What else can I do to help?" And he said "You're doing it all; just take care of my children." And I said, "Of course, I'm going to take care of your children; they're mine, too."

We sat in this room, which is the living room, which faced that wall facing the carport because this one was too dangerous because of the glass. And we sat there and held each other and cried because we knew that the time was near.

I won't go through the rest of it except for one little part to tell you how south--how southern--this is: When the bullet struck him in his back, it forced him forward. He had his keys in his hands and fell up the steps. The bullet ricocheted through this window, hit the wall, went through that wall, knocked off a piece of aluminum tile, struck the refrigerator and left a hole in the refrigerator, and the bullet landed on the countertop next to a watermelon. And I said how southern we are -- even in death, even in something like this.

But the spirit of the man never died. It lived and lives today. I remember those three children crying, "Daddy get up, get up, get up. Daddy get up." I won't go on with the rest of the story. But to say to you that 50 years later, it is almost as fresh to me as it was that night. And I had made a promise to Medgar the night before that if anything happened to him, and I survived, that I would be sure that justice would be served. It took years to get to that point, but justice was served.

I was called crazy, among lots of other things that I will not repeat here, for pushing for that and pushing for other things. And I guess the lesson in that is: believe. Believe in something that you are willing to give your all for. That grammar might not be correct, but I think you get what I'm saying.

"I don't know whether I'm going to heaven or hell, but I'm going from Jackson."

—Medgar Evers

In this country, we have a keen interest in visiting places where famous people died. This is especially true for events of the 1960s: People visit Dallas to see where President Kennedy's enjoyed his final moments before being struck in the back and head. You can visit the Lorraine Motel in Memphis where Martin Luther King Jr. was shot on the balcony. It is now the National Civil Rights Museum (the front of the museum is the same facade as the old motel).

In fact, the museum is designed to allow a view of MLK's room, eerily preserved from more than 40 years ago. Try to not feel something as you see the sheets on the last bed he slept in, frozen and messy, never to be made again.

Here in Jackson, it's the last home of Medgar Evers, our own civil rights hero, where he was shot in the back after midnight on June 12, 1963.

At his Jackson home, now a museum to his life and death, you can stand in the spot where Medgar Evers died. If you travel to 2332 Margaret Alexander Walker Drive (close to what is now Medgar Evers Boulevard), you can visit a somber place that is still intact--house, driveway, everything.

You can quietly stand in the exact spot where Medgar stepped out of his car and was shot, then dragging himself through the carport to where he died, with his keys in his hand. If you've seen the photographs from that night, you could even imagine seeing the blood on the ground.

There are no gates, no security guards. You are free to walk around. Be respectful; it's still very much a neighborhood with people living next door. You'll see the marker in the front yard and a plaque on the front of the house, but everything is remarkably as it was the night he was killed. More than that, it's a wonderful testament to a quiet man who worked hard; perhaps Medgar himself would be pleased with how his home has been preserved.

Here is where Medgar and Myrlie took care of their children. Here is where they slept and ate. Here is where Medgar would forever be known as a hero and marytr.

See Trip Burns' Medgar Evers photo essay at jfp.ms/eversgallery.

Imagine not being allowed to vote for the candidate of your choice, even though you were allowed to register to do so, or not being able to go to the college of your choice, even though your grades and conduct were exceptional. Imagine being thrown in jail, beaten or even killed for attempting to do any of these things because of the color of your skin. What would you be willing to do to change the course of things? Would you give up your life?

Medgar Evers was assassinated in the driveway of his home June 12, 1963. At the time of his death, he was a field secretary for the NAACP, working to help end the so-called Jim Crow era that plagued Mississippi and much of the South with government-enforced segregation. He played an important role in attempts to desegregate Mississippi universities, in particular by submitting his denied application to Ole Miss as a test case to the NAACP, and he was instrumental in helping enroll James Meredith at the same university that rejected him.

To honor his legacy, Medgar Evers' widow, Myrlie and his brother, Charles, along with their families dedicate themselves to preserving the memory and legacy of Medgar Evers. Every year, since 1973, the family has hosted a Homecoming Celebration for three or more days in June. Held in places such as Camden, Edwards and Jackson, and including celebrities Ruby Dee, Dionne Warwick, Jesse Jackson, Redd Foxx and Danny Glover and others the celebrations have always been a time of reflection and fellowship.

The theme for this year's 50th celebration is "How Far We've Come." Events in Jackson run from Thursday, June 6, through Wednesday, June 12.

Events

June 6—Tougaloo College hosts a gospel concert starting at 6 p.m. with Charles Evers, Medgar Evers brother, as the guest speaker. Admission is free.

June 7—The celebration continues with a homecoming parade that begins at Freedom Corner (Martin Luther King Drive and Medgar Evers Boulevard) at 10 a.m. The Evers are the parade grand marshal, and honorary marshal include Miss Black Mississippi, Kimberly Morgan; attorney Richard Schwartz; Hinds County District attorney Robert Shuler Smith; and Kixie 107 DJs Stan Branson and Rob Jay. Also in the lineup are the Fayette High School Marching Band, the Mississippi State Alumni Band, a collection of 18-wheelers, and more.

At 7 p.m. a scholarship banquet is at the Masonic Temple (1072 J.R. Lynch St.) followed by a concert. Organizers have not announced the musical performers; however, speakers for the evening are Dr. Tanya Moore, grandniece of Medgar Evers; Robert F. Kennedy Jr.; and former blues singer Bishop Joe Simon. Admission is $50, and attire is semi-formal.

June 8—Inaugural Medgar Evers International Day of Justice and Service is at the Jackson Medical Mall (350 W. Woodrow Wilson Ave.) from 8 a.m. until 1 p.m. For information, go to MEdayofjusticeandservice.org.

June 9—Medgar Evers Sunday. Faith leaders all over the world will remember Medgar Evers and celebrate his Legacy by sharing a message of "Unity and Faith." In Jackson, the Liturgy for Racial Reconciliation Commemorating the Life and Legacy of Medgar Evers will be at St. Andrew's Episcopal Cathedral (305 E Capitol St.) at 4 p.m. At 6 p.m., the grand opening of the Medgar Evers Exhibit at the Smith Robertson Museum and Cultural Center (528 Bloom St.) includes a reception.

June 10—A rededication ceremony of the Medgar Evers Home Museum (2332 Margaret Walker Alexander Drive) is at 11 a.m. Tougaloo College hosts the Freedom Trail marker dedication on the Campus Green at 2 p.m.

June 10 and June 11—Where Medgar Walked: Civil Rights Sites Tours from 9 a.m. to 5 p.m., covers sites in Jackson. Tours start at Smith Robertson Museum and Cultural Center (528 Bloom St.). Email Daphne Chamberlain at daphne.r.chamberlain@jsums.edu or call 601-979-1561. The free Civil Rights Film Festival is at the Davis Planetarium (201 E. Pascagoula St.) from 10 a.m. to 9:30 p.m. Monday, June 10, and 9 a.m. to 9:45 p.m. Tuesday, June 11. For information, call Jeanne Luckett at 601-960-0649, or email her at jeanneluckett1@mac.com.

June 11—Day of Commitment.

The unveiling of Medgar and Myrlie Evers' portraits and opening of the Civil Rights Art Exhibit begins at 9 a.m., at the Mississippi Museum of Art (380 S. Lamar St.)

Tougaloo College hosts "Conversations on the Life and Legacy of Medgar Wiley Evers" from 10 a.m. to 4 p.m., at the Bennie G. Thompson Academic and Civil Rights Research Center.

At 7 p.m., head to Tougaloo's Campus Green for "The Spirit of the Civil Rights Movement: Medgar Wiley Evers in Jazz."

Youth Congress: Dedicated to the Cause of Freedom will be at the Cabot Lodge Millsaps (2375 N. State St.).

June 12—The International Day of Remembrance includes Celebration on the Green at the Mississippi Museum of Art's Art Garden (380 S. Lamar St.) from 10 a.m. until 2 p.m. The event includes music, art, a food festival, a literacy fair, reflections, book signings by historians as well as authors, and sponsor exhibits. For information, contact Jacqueline Berry at 601-709-3744 or email parexcelon@gmail.com.

The Service of the Bells is from noon until 12:30 p.m., and includes memorial and praise in word and song. For information, call Jeanne Luckett at 601-960-0649, or email her at jeanneluckett1@mac.com.

Closing out the week in Jackson is the 50th Anniversary Gala, a commemorative tribute. The Red Carpet Party starts at 6:30 p.m., and the black-tie event starts at 7:30 p.m. at the Jackson Convention Complex. Tickets are $100 each; purchase a reserved table of 10 for $1,200. The deadline for purchasing gala tickets is Friday, June 7, at 5 p.m. To purchase gala tickets, call 601-878-1881 or go to eversinstitute.org to buy them online.

In keeping with this year's theme, "How Far We've Come," organizers hope the weekend will be a time of reflection on the life of Medgar Evers, the legacy he leaves behind, and all he and others have done for civil rights and equality throughout Mississippi and beyond.

For more information, call 601-948-5835, or visit eversinstitute.org.