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I first met Katie Reaves nearly ten years ago.  It seems like yesterday that I first met her, but it also feels like I've known her much longer.  Perhaps that's how it is with friends.  She was in our first group of interviewees for the Benton County Oral History project, conducted back in September of 2003.  At that time, the project itself was nothing more than an idea - I had never even been to Mississippi before that trip - and I had little idea of what to expect from Ms. Reaves.

For those that knew her, it will come as no surprise to hear that her interview was one of our shortest to date.  The idea of the Oral History project is to capture life in Benton County before, during and after the civil rights movement.  We talk, on camera, with people about issues of race, equality, struggle, and progress-heavy topics that often require hours of interview to capture. 

During our first interview-I think it was our second or third interview on the trip-Katie was on camera for less than 28 minutes.  My short time with her convinced me of two things: that Benton County was a special place, and Katie (she would absolutely not agree with this) was an extraordinary person.  We went on to film Katie and other members of her family several times over the next several years. But in those first 28 minutes, she revealed a strength, humility and grace that I struggle to match with anyone else I've met. 

One of our primary interests in interviewing Katie was to capture her experience integrating Ashland High School, and we spent that initial interview talking mostly about those few years. When we asked if her parents gave her any advice before she started, she replied,

"They told us the truth.  They told us that we was going to get some.  There was going to be some ugly things done to us.  But, you know, you just maintain your equanimity."

This was the first glimpse, from my point of view, about how impressive the Reaves family was.  And it was evident that Katie did indeed maintain her equanimity-through taunts, humiliations, and threats, most of which she never spoke of.  It is also clear the experience haunted her the rest of her life.  Towards the end of her interview, when asked if she would integrate the school again, she told us she wouldn't.  But her sacrifice contributed to a movement that changed America. 

Through the years, I've gone back to Benton County often. Many of my fondest memories involve Katie and the house off Highway 4.  I miss the dinners she would inevitably prepare for me.  I remember with admiration the way she took care of her mother and her sister Janice.  And I always looked forward to seeing her garden, and her patience with me in explaining which flowers were which.  But of all these memories, one in particular will stay with me: traveling with Katie from Benton County to Washington, DC to witness the inauguration of President Obama.   We filmed her reflections during much of the trip, but one exchange has always stayed with me.  On the way back from the inauguration, she talked about why she made the grueling journey.  It wasn't about being part of history; it really wasn't about her at all.  As she told us,

"I came because I felt like my family, my Uncle Henry had worked really hard in this movement.  And I felt like being here was to represent my family." 

And for the accomplishments Katie, her family, and many others achieved during the civil rights movement, she recognized the work that lay ahead,

"Our journey is not complete.  It's not finished-it's not a finished product."

She was right-our journey is not complete.  Much work remains to be done to fully realize the promise of the civil rights movement.  Katie did more of that work that can be asked of a person.  Her life was full of struggle, sacrifice and difficulty, but her journey is now finished.  

 There's a quote I like from an ancient Roman philosopher that says,

"The day which we fear as our last is but the birthday of our eternity."

I have no idea if Katie knew of that quote, but I imagine she would like it very much.   As she departs this life, I take comfort knowing that Katie has been born into an eternity of well-deserved peace.