Montgomery, Alabama.
After finishing the evening prayer, Dr. King lingered in the church for quite some time. He was still discussing with his friends how to rescue the young Black woman imprisoned there as soon as possible. By the time he returned to his doorstep, it was already deep in the night.
The city was as quiet as ever. No one here knew anything about what was happening in the outside world.
Every radio station was playing lighthearted, cheerful programs. It was just that the announcers seemed to have all been replaced, and their English carried a hint of a German accent.
Perhaps it was just an illusion? Dr. King did not give it much thought. On his drive home, he barely paid attention to the radio, instead pondering how he and his compatriots should proceed into the future.
"Priest! Please speak with us!"
Just as he got out of the car and prepared to enter his house, several Black men emerged from the darkness nearby and called out to him. In the winter night, their faces seemed frozen stiff, and their smiles looked almost fake.
Seeing that they were his compatriots, Dr. King felt no wariness. This was his parish, and a priest was always willing to help others.
"Come inside and we can talk. It's too cold out here, friends. I'll prepare some hot drinks."
He opened the door and warmly invited them in for a chat. Though it was already late, they had waited for him until now, so they must have had something urgent to discuss.
He was currently organizing his Black compatriots to boycott the bus companies across the Southern states. Supporters had gathered in droves throughout the South, but some places had resorted to violence, smashing and burning other people's property.
Dr. King opposed