For Terrence Jackson, 20, the death of Coretta Scott King, the widow of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., was a call to action.

"Just like Martin Luther King had a dream, I had a dream, too," the 2004 graduate of Glenn Hills High School said. "My aunt, who passed away in 2003, she went to Martin Luther King's funeral, and when I found out that (Mrs. King) had died, I knew right away I wanted to go."

That was easier said than done. Terrence said he searched for days for a ride to the Feb. 7 funeral service, only to be told that no one was going. He was so determined to go that he was about to drive his car, which is in less than perfect condition.

The day before the funeral, a friend told him about the buses leaving from Augusta.

"He said it was $10 to go. I told him, 'Book me a seat; I'm going,'" Terrence said. "I kept thinking, 'I'm making history, I'm making history, I'm going to be a part of this day. I'm going to be a part of this illustrious event to celebrate this woman who wanted peace and who worked to end the Jim Crow laws and who did so much.'"

Once the buses arrived in Lithonia, Ga., at 8:30 a.m., Terrence said, his optimism nearly failed him. There were thousands of people trying to get into the service.

He got in the shortest line of about 30 or 40 people who wanted only to view her body and was told by authorities before he reached the church that the viewing had ended and the doors had been closed.

About to give up and head for home, he saw a group coming down the hill. He stopped them and asked where they were going and was told "to the funeral."

He joined them in what he describes as an act of faith that had miraculous results.

After singing We Shall Overcome and waiting in the brisk air, at about 9:30 a.m. he was seated inside the 10,000-seat New Birth Missionary Baptist Church, where the ceremony was to begin at noon.

"There were people on the bus sitting in front of me who never made it to the church," Terrence said. "I not only got in, I got a good seat and I got a program."

He watched more than half the nearly six-hour service, where four presidents, international dignitaries, politicians and celebrities expressed their condolences.

"In one way, I wasn't surprised at the dignitaries because this was the time to do it," he said. "If anything, what they were doing was appropriate. What her husband preached about, she showed it every day. And just because she's gone doesn't mean her legacy and her goals have to die," Terrence said.

As for that coveted program: "I thought about selling it," he said.

"But this is memory, this is history. I'm going to pass it on to my children so they can pass it on to my grandchildren and they can say, 'My grandfather did this.' I have history in my hand."

Reach Kamille Bostick at (706) 823-3223 or kamille.bostick@augustachronicle.com.

"An organization like this (gay-straight alliance) is a great security blanket at the end of the day," Mr. Riley said. "You're in an environment where you're not alone and where you realize that you're not a freak. That you can be with people in a physical, tangible way and they're just like you."

Point of contention

Gay-straight alliances or similar clubs aren't an easy sell.

At White County High School in Cleveland, Ga., Kerry Pacer, 17, made waves and headlines when she tried to start a gay-straight alliance. Her town and school split on whether to allow the club and debates raged as to whether any such club was needed in a school.

To Kerry, a lesbian, the answer was a clear "yes" considering the difficulties many openly homosexual students face.

"There's a lot of bullying going on with people being homophobic; there's a lot of people growing up thinking it's wrong and that it's right to treat the people who are homosexual badly," she said in a phone interview from her home.

Clubs such as hers offer a forum to challenge the idea that discrimination and violence should be the norm.

The school decided that only academic clubs could meet on campus. All other noncurricular clubs have to meet off campus or not meet at all. Kerry's group meets at an area restaurant.

Though things are temporarily settled at her school, the debate hasn't ended. In what many have called a response to organizations such as Kerry's, Georgia lawmakers have introduced bills that would require parental permission or notification for all student clubs. One, co-sponsored by Rep. Sue Burmeister of Augusta, is in discussion in the Georgia House of Representatives. A similar bill is being considered in the state Senate.

Mrs. Burmeister, who has been quoted as saying the bills did not come about because of the gay-straight alliances, was asked to comment on the bill but didn't return a requested phone call by press time.

Regardless of their intent, the outcome of the parental-notification bills worry many gay students and former students, who figure the bills could hamper efforts to join and start gay-straight alliances.

"You're not always going to be able to tell your parents you're gay,'' Shawn said. "Even if you have come out to them and your parents do know, then they might not be comfortable enough and accepting enough of, 'Hey, my child is gay' to sign."

Even as Kerry's celebrity has grown, (she was voted as Person of the Year by The Advocate, a national gay magazine) she said it hasn't been any easier to be openly homosexual as a high school student.

"It's hard," she said. "It's always going to be hard for someone to be different in high school. I mean, that's always. The (gay) boys definitely got it tough ... Last year it was a complete living hell. It's been better this year, if that's any consolation, but better is not good enough."

Reach Kamille Bostick at (706) 823-3223 or kamille.bostick@augustachronicle.com.