Full Coverage: The Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial

At the scene of a tragedy, National Civil Rights Museum preserves history

On the outside, the Lorraine Motel looks much as it did that late afternoon of April 4, 1968. The sun still beats down on the second-floor balcony just outside Room 306, where the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. teased young Jesse Jackson about not wearing a tie to dinner at a minister’s house that night, and where King asked a band leader to play his favorite hymn, “Precious Lord, Take My Hand.” The major difference is the funeral wreath of red and white carnations that now hangs on the railing to mark the spot where he fell when the shot rang out.

Across Mulberry Street, 283 feet away, is the boarding-house window from which James Earl Ray, a convicted bank robber who escaped from prison, is believed to have fired the fatal round. Walk around the corner to Main Street and you can stand on the pavement where the fleeing Ray, perhaps spooked by two police cars parked nearby, dropped a bundle of items — including a high-powered hunting rifle with a scope, a transistor radio with his prison inmate number scratched on it and a six-pack of Schlitz, all bearing his fingerprints — before driving off in a flashy white Mustang.

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The Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial

Full Coverage

Inside, both buildings are transformed. They house the National Civil Rights Museum, now celebrating its 20th anniversary. The exhibits are comprehensive, covering the history of slavery and the civil rights movement in North America from 1619 to the present, from Nat Turner, Harriet Tubman and John Brown to Emmett Till, Fannie Lou Hamer and Malcolm X.

You sit on a bus and are ordered to give up your seat or be arrested, as Rosa Parks was in Montgomery, Ala., in 1955, and you can view a replica of the Greyhound bus that a crowd in Anniston, Ala., firebombed in 1961, holding its doors shut in an attempt to incinerate the Freedom Riders inside. You can visit a jail cell like the one in Birmingham in which dozens of teenagers were crammed after being arrested for participating in civil rights marches during which they were attacked by police dogs and sprayed with fire hoses whose water was forceful enough to strip the bark off trees.

But nothing prepares you for your final destination — Room 306, which King shared with his Southern Christian Leadership Conference colleague Ralph Abernathy on the night before the assassination, when he gave his eerily prescient “Mountaintop” speech. (“I may not get there with you,” he told a crowd of about 4,000, “but I want you to know tonight that we, as a people, will get to the promised land.”)

Now, with Mahalia Jackson on the loudspeaker singing “Precious Lord, Take My Hand,” the room appears as they left it: the rumpled coverlet on King’s double bed folded back; half-filled coffee cups and ashtrays; a can of pomade on the vanity; a Gideon Bible on the nightstand; a newspaper with the headline “Racial Peace Sought by Two Negro Pastors”; and just outside the window, the balcony where King collapsed, a square of its original concrete flooring preserved, poignant as a gravestone.

“This is what hits people the hardest,” says Kenon Walker, 31, a former actor who performed as part of a temporary exhibit at the museum three years ago, fell in love with its mission and went on to become its chief tour guide. “This is where people break down.”

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