Welcome!

Welcome to the Freedom Foundation “blog” – a place to read everyday stories from everyday people who volunteer for the Freedom Foundation. These are the stories that are the life of the events, programs and efforts of the Foundation.

Some people criticize us for the faith we have that makes us believe we can make a difference. Others ridicule the idea that change is possible. But it is stories like these that you read below and then thousands of others that remind us that making a difference in just one person’s life is worth it.

The Starfish Story
Original Story by: Loren Eisley

One day a man was walking along the beach when he noticed
a boy picking something up and gently throwing it into the ocean.
Approaching the boy, he asked, “What are you doing?”
The youth replied, “Throwing starfish back into the ocean.
The surf is up and the tide is going out.
If I don’t throw them back, they’ll die.”

“Son,” the man said, “don’t you realize there are miles and miles of beach and hundreds of starfish?
You can’t make a difference!”
After listening politely, the boy bent down,
picked up another starfish,

and threw it back into the surf. Then, smiling at the man, he said…
“I made a difference for that one.”

These are our “Starfish Stories”.

Monday, January 26, 2009

3rd Annual Dr. King Celebration


At the Third Annual Martin Luther King Celebration, the Freedom Foundation honored several Selma community members with lifetime achievement, courage and youth awards.

In preparation, I interviewed two of the recipients: Jean Martin and Annie Cooper.

Annie Cooper was a foot soldier of the Civil Rights Movement. A photo of Ms. Cooper's struggle with four officers, including Sheriff Jim Clark, ran in the New York Times on January 26th, 1965 and provoked national sympathy and support for the voting rights struggle.

Jean Martin is a true public servant. She has demonstrated a commitment to doing what she believes is right, no matter what the cost. I had the opportunity to chat, look through family photos and reminisce with these two special women. And though my official reasons have ended, I'll continue visiting my new friends.

I was happier to hold the flowers for these two special women and to sit backstage, unable to hear much of the program, than I would have been to present an Oscar for best actor or to sit at the 50-yard line at the Super Bowl. These aren't heroes of entertainment or of physical strength—they are heroes of courage.

One young man who once said he was "too poor and too black" to go to college, gave a speech that started with, "I know what it's like not to have running water. I know what it's like to be made fun of for old, dirty clothes" and crescendoed with the proclamation that he has been accepted to Samford University. He ended with a challenge to the youth and his final words brought the audience to its feet: "Yes we can."

As one of the 40 plus choir members, I wasn't there to showcase my beautiful voice (it's not) or to be seen (I feel awkward on stage). I was there for one purpose: to sing my heart out for the award recipients and for the crowd that gathered to honor them.

Though the night was long, I left filled with energy and stayed up discussing the highlights of the evening and laughing with friends.

When I finally crawled into bed, I fell asleep with a companion I cherish—contentment.