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some marches in brooklyn, a young black teenager was killed by a white mob in 1991, and the mob -- white neighbors would come out and call us the n-word and throw things at us. one saturday, one of the marchers, a white guy, michael, stabbed me, and i went to court after he was indicted and prosecuted. i went to court and forgave him. and i later visited him in jail. and i never will forget, he looked at me and he says, i don't believe you came to see me and i tried to kill you. luckily it wasn't a wound that was that bad. though i still have the surgical scar. i told him, i didn't come to see you to forgive you for you. i came to forgive you to know who i am, to know that i am really practice what i preach. that's when i started growing with mrs. king's conversations