After finishing up the residential requirements for his Ph.D. degree at Boston University, Martin Luther King, Jr. moves to Montgomery, Alabama to begin work as the pastor of Dexter Avenue Baptist Church.
On October 31, 1954 he officially becomes pastor at Dexter. One year later—on November 17, 1955—his first child is born. He is almost 27 years old and has been married for almost two and a half years. During this time his is still writing his thesis. He receives his doctorate on June 5, 1955.
Just seven months later—on January 30, 1956—his house will be bombed.
Let’s read about that bombing.
In the eighth chapter of The Autobiography of Martin Luther King, Jr. we learn about the Montgomery Movement. It begins on December 1, 1955 when Rosa Parks is arrested in Montgomery and charged with violating the city’s segregation ordinance. Four days later King is elected head of the newly formed protest group—the Montgomery Improvement Association. The bus boycott begins.
Members of the white community attempt to break the protest, battering King psychologically and then physically. He is arrested for driving 5 mph over the speed limit; he is receiving threatening phone calls. He writes
One night toward the end of January [1956] I settled into bed late, after a strenuous day. Coretta had already fallen asleep and just as I was about to doze off the telephone rang. An angry voice said, "Listen, nigger, we've taken all we want from you; before next week you'll be sorry you ever came to Montgomery." I hung up, but I couldn't sleep. It seemed that all of my fears had come down on me at once. I had reached the saturation point.
King is at the breaking point.
And I got to the point that I couldn't take it any longer. I was weak. Something said to me, "You can't call on Daddy now, you can't even call on Mama. You've got to call on that something in that person that your Daddy used to tell you about, that power that can make a way out of no way." With my head in my hands, I bowed over the kitchen table and prayed aloud. The words I spoke to God that midnight are still vivid in my memory: "Lord, I'm down here trying to do what's right. I think I'm right. I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right. But Lord, I must confess that I'm weak now, I'm faltering. I'm losing my courage. Now, I am afraid. And I can't let the people see me like this because if they see me weak and losing my courage, they will begin to get weak. The people are looking to me for leadership, and if I stand before them without strength and courage, they too will falter. I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. I've come to the point where I can't face it alone."
And he receives an answer and becomes empowered by a voice within.
It seemed as though I could hear the quiet assurance of an inner voice saying: "Martin Luther, stand up for righteousness. Stand up for justice. Stand up for truth. And lo, I will be with you. Even until the end of the world."
A few nights later his house is bombed.
Three nights later, on January 30, I left home a little before seven to attend our Monday evening mass meeting at the First Baptist Church. A member of my congregation had come to the parsonage to keep my wife company in my absence. About nine-thirty they heard a noise in front that sounded as though someone had thrown a brick. In a matter of seconds an explosion rocked the house. A bomb had gone off on the porch.
And then a second bomb aimed at a different protest leader…
Just two nights later, a stick of dynamite was thrown on the lawn of E. D. Nixon. Fortunately, again no one was hurt. Once more a large crowd of Negroes assembled, but they did not lose control. And so nonviolence had won its first and its second tests. After the bombings, many of the officers of my church and other trusted friends urged me to hire a bodyguard and armed watchmen for my house. When my father came to town, he concurred with both of these suggestions. I tried to tell them that I had no fears now and consequently needed no weapons for protection. This they would not hear. They insisted that I protect the house and family, even if I didn't want to protect myself. In order to satisfy the wishes of these close friends and associates, I decided to consider the question of an armed guard. I went down to the sheriff's office and applied for a license to carry a gun in the car; but this was refused.
If there has ever been a more clear case for the need to defend oneself and one’s family with a firearm, I don’t know of one. Why was he denied a permit?
A well regulated Militia, being necessary to the security of a free State, the right of the people to keep and bear Arms, shall not be infringed.