Reader’s Commentary: Not a plaque, however, a place

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By Marjorie Logman

I attended the MLK Awards event at East Aurora High School Monday, night, Jan. 16. When I was watching all who were there and listening to the speeches, my mind drifted to those who were not there and who may exemplify what Martin Luther King meant in a deeper way.

I grew up with privilege and appreciate all the people I have met along the way: Elected, appointed, and stars. My husband did. When he was graduated from dental school, he said his biggest regret was to have Dr. in front of his name because he did not want others to judge him better than they because of it. He dedicated his practice to the every-day people as he called them.

Many others I was thinking about that Monday night at East High, were as follows: I remember Maryanne. She and I lived next store until we were six. We found that overcoming fears, real or perceived, can be done by holding hands even when you are running.

I was thinking of George Pfleeger who taught a bunch of 10, 11-, and 12-years-olds to water ski on Lake Geneva. He patiently came around in the boat time and time again to get us youngsters up on two pieces of wood.

I think of the young people who served meals at the retirement place I lived. The young black girls were making their way through school while serving often grumpy receipients. Those girls were dealing with the fear of being stopped by police for frivolous reasons.

I never will forget the young man who wanted to be on the Youth Advisory Committee for the City of Aurora government. He would have been a great asset. He said, first of all I don’t have a suit. This fact was his life….He got his first-grade brother off to school, got himself to school, played football, got his brother home and came to work. He sure deserves recognition for service.

I think of the bus drivers I have met along the way and how they served often grumpy and self-entitled people with grace and dignity. I so enjoyed their life’s stories. I think of the Metra conductor who, for no other reason than kindness, pushed me in my wheelchair at Union Station from the train to Canal Street in Chicago.

I have appreciation for the privileged, but to me the people who my mind wandered to have a depth of servitude that may not get them a plaque, or a blue street sign, but they are the force that keeps the heartbeat of America going and I honor them.

Marjorie Logman, Aurora

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