In February 1960, Clarence B Jones heard a knock at the door. What followed would change his life for ever. Then 29 years old, a talented and meticulous copyright lawyer who had recently moved to California for a job in the entertainment industry, Jones was beginning to enjoy the material rewards of his success: a modern home, a fast car, tailored suits and cocktail lunches. Earlier that week, however, he had received a phone call from a mentor in New York named Hubert Delany, asking if he would be willing to join him on the legal defence of a civil rights campaigner and preacher in Alabama who was embroiled in a spurious legal action over his tax affairs. Jones politely declined, but Delany warned him to expect a visit from the preacher within 48 hours. He was not one to give up easily.
Now Martin Luther King stood before him, there to make the request in person. King complimented Jones on his beautiful home, and asked questions about his childhood, and the death of his mother, whom he was still grieving. He told him he needed a skilled Black attorney to help coordinate his defence team of mostly white lawyers. By the end of their meeting, Jones had politely refused again, mildly offended that King had expected him to decamp from his career on the coast and travel to the deep south to work for nothing. As a courtesy, however, he agreed to go and watch King preach that Sunday in Los Angeles.
