On the day of his assassination, an hour before his assassination, Martin Luther King Jr. started a pillow-fight in his motel room.
I love this so much. I’m so happy that he was able to experience such joy on his last day.
As a twenty-something, my friends and I had enormous, knock-down, drag-out pillow fights in our apartment, usually with the lights off. Pillows, couch cushions, and throw pillows were all fair game. Minor injuries, broken lamps, and an occasional bout of romance often resulted from these unexpectedly intense battles.
I started a long term relationship with a girl in the midst of one of these massive pillow fights.
I nearly lost an eye to a zipper once. I’d frequently end fights with scratches across my face and arms thanks to the zippers on sofa cushions.
The neighbors once pounded on our door, demanding that we shut up because the battle was so loud.
It took another 20 years before I would go to war again with pillows… this time with my own children.
The lights remain on and the battles are decidedly less intense, but they are still joyous.
I hope Dr. King’s last pillow fight offered him as much laughter as pillow fights have afforded me in my lifetime.
