Odetta had no intentions of making a stand for what was right. She lived simply, quietly, working as a civil servant for a white. She shopped at black owned stores and worshipped in an all-black Baptist Church. Although she would occasionally dream of traveling the world, she knew that would never happen without making waves, and she wasn’t one to make waves. That was of course until the summer of 1965. In a span of just a few weeks she would experience the love of her life and great tragedy. She would be thrust to the forefront of a struggle that had been simmering since the end of the Civil War a century before.