Inside, you can see room 306, where King stayed. At 6:01 p.m. on April 4, 1968, he stood on the balcony and called down to his friends below, asking musician Ben Branch to play his favourite song, “Take my Hand, Precious Lord,” at a rally planned for later that evening.
As he turned his back, a single gun shot rang out. Struck in the face, King never regained consciousness. News of the leader’s assassination sparked outbreaks of violence across the U.S., resulting in 40 deaths.
“When he died, I think something died in all of us. Something died in America. Each day we must find a way to dream the dream that he dreamed. And build on what he left all of us,” said the late Rep. John Lewis, a civil rights leader and long-time U.S. Congressman.
The museum includes the old rooming house across the street where King’s killer, escaped fugitive James Earl Ray, hid out in a tiny bathroom. The distance between the rooming house and the motel is just 207 feet; King never stood a chance.
You can also see the evidence from the case: Ray’s hunting rifle, a radio with his old prison number on it, the bullet that was removed from King’s body.
Panels on display explore “lingering questions” about the assassination, including whether Ray was working with the U.S. government and if the FBI killed King.
For those who don’t know much about the civil rights movement, the museum is a powerful way to learn about this defining chapter of U.S. history. There are exhibits chronicling five centuries of slavery, emancipation in 1862, the ongoing persecution of African-Americans and the more than 100-year fight for equality. Oral histories and film footage as well as interactive exhibits bring the struggle to life. You can climb on a vintage yellow public bus from Montgomery, Ala., sit near a statue of Rosa Parks, the civil rights pioneer who was jailed in 1955 for not giving up her seat for a white passenger, and get a sense of the terror she must have felt. “Please move to the back of the bus. I need that seat now. Please move back,” a voice barks out. “If you don’t move out of that seat, I’ll have you arrested. Get up from there.”
You can also sit at a segregated lunch counter, visit a courtroom and listen to police sirens wailing as you walk past statues of officers with gas masks ordering people to disperse.
The museum also showcases the non-violent resistance and courage of the Freedom Riders, and the hope and resilience of so many in the community who died fighting for the liberation of others. “Blacks defied oppression with words as weapons, actions and agitation. They kept alive African-American traditions,” notes one exhibit.