Dr. Martin Luther King sacrificed his life so this wouldn’t happen in 2009. This is a cautionary tale of government, arrogance and racism.

On Aug. 14, it happened: Another black man humiliated by a white person. I went to Federal Way City Hall to conduct some business. The transaction should have taken 20 minutes, but it took an hour and 20 minutes. So much for the efficiency of government.

Accompanying me was my 10-year-old daughter, her sister and her mother. The clerk said to me, “You look familiar. Have you been here before?” I said yes.

“I recognize you. You have no patience and you are rude,” the clerk said.

I was startled, since our interaction had been cordial until then. I said to the clerk, “That was rude and I want an apology.”

Then the clerk said, in a very condescending tone: “Just go get a piece of candy.”

I again was taken aback and said I didn’t appreciate that, and that I wanted an apology. The clerk again said to just go get a piece of candy.

My 10-year-old daughter started to cry. I comforted her and sat down. I felt ashamed and humiliated. I looked at the clerk. She had such a smug look.

I am almost 60 years old. In the late 1950s, I lived in Mississippi, where I remember a young twenty-something white girl saying to my grandfather, “We only serve niggers in the back.”

I started to cry. My grandfather comforted me and said it would be OK. That scene is seared in my soul, along with the feelings of shame for being black.

I went and sat down, and got angry because I couldn’t protect my daughter against the sting of racism, just like my grandfather couldn’t protect me. I don’t want anyone telling me that I misunderstood, or that she didn’t mean it. I was there. You weren’t. I dried my daughter’s tears. You didn’t. I felt ashamed. You couldn’t. So save it.

Every interaction between a black person and a white person is not always about race.

There is another component to this story. It is not just about hatred toward a 57-year-old black man. This story is about the folly of youth, coupled with the arrogance that comes from working for the government — and feeling bulletproof.

Don’t get me wrong, our government does have good workers. But they are either on vacation, at lunch, or they have just left the building. Has government ever apologized to you? Or do they tell you to sit down, take a number and we will get to you when we can?

This tragic story is a cautionary tale: Will we have more interactions like this, or will we have less?

My daughter said to me, “That lady was mean to you, daddy, for no reason.”

I assured her that I would take care of it, and that I would seek justice. It was suggested to me that I just let it go and don’t make waves. I said, “What will happen if she tells the next black person to go get some candy?”

This story ultimately is not about me. It’s about arrogance. The clerk will not lose her job. She may not even be reprimanded. After all, she works for the government.

Dr. King once said: “We will have to repent not merely for the vitriolic words and actions of bad people, but for the appalling silence of good people.”

I can’t let this go because if I don’t say something, who will? Dr. King didn’t die so I could shut up. He died so I could be heard. No excuses.