Lynda Lowery: Hi. My name is Lynda Blackmon Lowery, and I'm the author of Turning 15 on the Road to Freedom, my story of the 1965 Voting Rights March. My story is about being able to help change things no matter what your age.

I wanted to write this book especially to let people know when you feel like you are hopeless; when you're a child and you feel like there's nothing you can do, there is always something you can do to make change.

And I wanted other children to know that. Because at the age of seven, I decided in my life, I made a vow that I was going to make change when I got big.

And I was able to help make that change with thousands of others. And that's what I want young people to know. You're born a history maker. That there are things you can always do to make change when you see things are wrong.

That's why we have history, and what I want people to know is you can change things nonviolently and be a part of change. I'm going to just share with you some excerpts from the book, Turning 15 on the Road to Freedom.

"By the time I was 15 years old, I had been in jail nine times. For weeks, we marched and went to jail over and over again. One day when a group of us went to jail, Pat Greene got sick. We kept calling the jailer and asking for help, but all they did was bring us two brooms and tell us to clean up the place, saying it was filthy.

There were 23 girls stuffed in a jail cell. From the window high in the cell, you could look down and see people on Franklin Street. I used one of the brooms to break the window, and we shouted down that we had a sick girl who needed some help. That was all we were saying. We needed help for her.

Pretty soon, that jail had two deputies came in. "Okay", the jailer said, "Who broke the window? You're in big trouble." He cursed and said, "I'm going to ask one more time: Who broke that window?" So I answered, "I did." "What's your name?" I said, "Lynda Blackmon."

Somebody behind me said, "My name's Lynda Blackmon." Somebody on my side said, "My name's Lynda Blackmon." Pretty soon there were about five Lynda Blackmons. "All right. You all are trying to be smart. Get up and move", he ordered. He let Pat and one other girl stay in the cell. The rest of us was marched down a little hallway to the sweatbox.

The sweatbox didn't even have windows. It was an iron room with a big iron door. They pushed us right in and closed the door and locked it. I don't know how long we stayed in there. It could have been five minutes, it could've been five hours. All I know is every one of us passed out from the heat.