It was a brisk sunny Sunday morning in October as throngs begin to gather at the base of the famed Art Museum steps.
Freedom songs kept them energized as they walked hand in hand, arms interlocked as the notable vanguards lead the way.
The names are called of the loved, the missed, the remembered meant to remind those of us gathered of our purpose. Their names come out as our melodic freedom song.
Martin, Fred, Jessie, Andrew, and John were in front but other leaders whose names I do not know emerged as the walk forged an experience none would forget one Sunday morning in March on a bridge called Edmund Pettus in Selma, Alabama.
The feet and the voices of an earlier generation, Rashidah, Alecia, Pablo, led the way in Philadelphia as we marked 30 years in the epidemic and our future leaders marched with signs and hope for the future.
Armed with signs of "I am a Man"; "We shall overcome" a band of ordinary citizens walked for justice one Sunday morning.
That Sunday stroll in Selma became known as Bloody Sunday and showed the world that those men, women, and children who were being treated as second class citizens because of the color of their skin would stand up for freedom and justice together in search of a better tomorrow. Only time will tell what the Sunday in Philadelphia will tell the world. I hope that the story will read that they too stood together in search of a better tomorrow (for a cure, treatment options, access, to remember).
The size of the groups walking were smaller than those watching but whether it was day 100 years after a proclamation of freedom was proclaimed or 30 years since the start of the AIDS epidemic; Sometimes a walk on a Sunday morning is more than a walk.
