My dad dropped a big one on me yesterday:  His grandfather attended Morehouse.  I didn't know.  His grandfather was the much-older classmate to the Reverend Otis Moss Jr [father of Rev. Wright's predecessor Otis Moss III].  His grandfather was directly inspired by Reverend Martin Luther King Jr.  

Now I have never been accused of name-dropping [in most cases], but this fresh dose of celebrity-connect deserved some exploring.  So I called my dad's cousin, a former principal, who insisted the grandfather Morehouse/Otis Moss story was myth.  Translated:  he was a self-educated farmer who wore suits and ties while reading Frederick Douglas and feeding hogs.  It took me no more than ten minutes to inform my dad that his cousin dismissed Morehouse, Moss and King as simply family lore.

My father wasn't hearing it.

So we called his cousin in Cincinnati, who told us to call his sister in Cleveland, who told us to call their cousin Margaret in Atlanta.  And we did.  Not only did Margaret ensure us it was pure truth, she unfolded the story with a bit of a roar [she wasn't too pleased with the mythic dismissal craziness].  

The legend goes like this:  My dad's grandfather was working in the ore mines of Alabama circa 1898 when he got word from his father in Georgia he could attend Atlanta Baptist College.  A long-suffering intellectual, he chucked his ore picks and headed to Atlanta.  However, his stint there was short-lived.  He lacked funds or his father needed him home, something.  So he headed back to rural Georgia, got married and had thirteen children. He also built a one-room library where he sat in his suit and tie and read book after book. [His children actually worked the farm].

But on his 72nd birthday, he boldly returned to Morehouse and for the next fifteen years pursued his degree in Divinity. Yep, he kept his eye on the prize.  And that's where he met and impressed Reverend Otis Moss Jr.  They took courses together, debated together, and allegedly my great-granddad schooled Moss on a thing or two.  [I was told by the cousin in Cleveland to call Mt Olivet Church because Rev Moss would confirm it].  

Now, as far as the Reverend King... well, I'm assuming my great granddad knew him.  If he knew Otis Moss Jr., he would have rubbed elbows with King.  Right?  Not necessarily.  But let me have that today.

Let me imagine my great granddad working on his Georgia farm, sitting in his self-made library in suit and tie, and reading about King from many miles away.  Let me imagine him being inspired by his education, activism, his controversial ministry.  Let me imagine at seventy, he told himself King was in Atlanta and King was pursuing his dreams, so why shouldn't he.

Whatever the inspiration, my great granddad returned to Morehouse, befriended and impressed one of King's infamous proteges, and satisfied his life's passion.  And although he passed away before April 4, 1968, I want to believe he took great pride in sharing ideas and space with those men and women of 1950s Atlanta who shared his life-long quest for knowledge and justice and who ultimately created history.