I saw Reverend Jesse Jackson, flag in hand and tears streaming down his cheeks. He could be a shameless hustler and relentless self-promoter, but the reverend also was a trailblazer who had devoted his life to civil rights. He had been there with Dr. King the night he was slain and had, himself, run two symbolic races for the White House. Now the image of the new First Family—a splendid, black family—introducing themselves to the nation, had the reverend genuinely overcome.
