:max_bytes(150000):strip_icc():focal(922x355:924x357)/Jaclyn-Smith-080523-01-e6334440b9c04656aae404d78021b184.jpg)
She’s still there. If you walk down Mulberry Street in Memphis today, past the impeccably preserved facade of the Lorraine Motel, you’ll see her. Jacqueline Smith is sitting under a blue umbrella, surrounded by handwritten signs and a lifetime of conviction.
She has been there for nearly 38 years.
It’s easy to dismiss a lone protester as a relic of the past, but honestly, Jacqueline Smith today represents a tension that most of us are too uncomfortable to talk about. She isn't just a lady on a sidewalk. She is the "last tenant" of the motel where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, and her presence is a living, breathing indictment of how we choose to remember history.
The Eviction That Never Truly Ended
Most people visit the National Civil Rights Museum to see Room 306. They want to stand where Dr. King stood. They want to feel the weight of April 4, 1968. But for Jacqueline, the Lorraine wasn't a "site" or a "monument." It was home.
She moved in as a teenager and eventually worked there as a housekeeper. When the city decided to spend millions to turn the motel into a museum, they evicted the residents. Jacqueline refused to go. On March 2, 1988, she was literally carried out by sheriff's deputies.
Her belongings were tossed on the curb. She stayed with them.
👉 See also: Who's the Next Pope: Why Most Predictions Are Basically Guesswork
"You people are making a mistake," she shouted back then. She hasn't changed her mind.
Why Jacqueline Smith Today is Still Protesting
If you chat with her—and she’s usually happy to talk if you’re respectful—she’ll tell you that the museum is a "glorification of death." That’s her big sticking point. She argues that Dr. King wouldn’t have wanted a $27 million shrine (a figure that has grown with renovations over the decades).
She thinks that money should have gone to the people King was actually fighting for when he died: the poor, the homeless, and the disenfranchised of Memphis.
Basically, her logic is this:
- The Cost of Memory: Why spend millions on a building when the neighborhood around it is struggling?
- Gentrification: She watched the South Main area transform from a community into a "destination" that the original residents can no longer afford.
- Living Legacy: She believes the Lorraine should have been a community center, a health clinic, or low-income housing. A "living" testimony rather than a static one.
It’s a radical perspective. It forces you to ask if we’ve commodified the civil rights movement. When you see the gift shop across the street from the spot where a man was murdered, you kinda start to see her point.
✨ Don't miss: Recent Obituaries in Charlottesville VA: What Most People Get Wrong
The 2026 Reality on Mulberry Street
Living on a sidewalk for four decades takes a toll. She’s weathered the Memphis humidity, the ice storms, and the constant flow of tourists who sometimes look at her like she’s part of the exhibit.
But she’s sharp.
Jacqueline Smith today is witnessing a new chapter for the museum. The National Civil Rights Museum is currently finalizing its "Legacy Building" renovations, expected to be fully unveiled early this year. The museum is leaning harder into Dr. King’s last book, Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community? It’s a bit ironic. The museum is trying to address the very issues of poverty and community that Jacqueline has been screaming about into a bullhorn since the eighties.
What Most People Get Wrong
A lot of visitors think she’s "anti-King" or just stubborn. That’s not it. She carries a tattered copy of A Testament of Hope and quotes King with the precision of a scholar. She doesn't hate the man; she hates what she calls the "Disney-fication" of his sacrifice.
She’s also not "homeless" in the traditional sense of being unable to find a place. She chooses the sidewalk. It’s a vigil. To her, leaving the sidewalk would be a betrayal of the promise she made when the deputies dragged her out.
🔗 Read more: Trump New Gun Laws: What Most People Get Wrong
Is She Right?
This is where it gets complicated. The National Civil Rights Museum has done incredible work educating millions. It’s a world-class institution. Without it, the Lorraine might have been torn down and turned into a parking lot or a trendy condo block decades ago.
But Jacqueline’s presence ensures that the story isn't "neat."
History is messy.
By staying there, she prevents the museum from being a closed chapter. She is the footnote that keeps screaming. Experts like sociologists who study "counter-memorials" often point to her as the ultimate example of how marginalized voices fight for the right to define their own history.
Actionable Insights for Your Visit
If you find yourself in Memphis this year, don't just walk past her. Here is how to engage with this piece of living history:
- Stop and Listen: You don't have to agree with her to acknowledge her commitment.
- Look at the Signs: Her banners explain her specific demands, including the relocation of the museum's "death-focused" exhibits to a different site.
- Reflect on the Neighborhood: Walk a few blocks away from the museum. Look at the new developments versus the areas that haven't seen a dime of that tourism money.
- Read King’s Later Works: To understand her protest, you have to understand King's "Poor People's Campaign." It wasn't just about the bus boycott; it was about economic justice.
Jacqueline Smith today is a reminder that the struggle Dr. King died for didn't end in 1968. It’s still happening, right there on the corner of Butler and Mulberry.
Next Steps for the Curious:
Research the Poor People’s Campaign of 1968 to understand the economic context of King’s final days. You can also look into the National Civil Rights Museum’s 2026 expansion plans to see how the institution is attempting to bridge the gap between historical memory and modern social issues.