Because she had hope, but also anger, Doris J. Wilson set out on a journey 40 years ago.

The Carson community activist, then a young social worker from New York, traveled on an overnight bus to Washington. Her life — along with that of all Americans — was about to change.

Wilson had heard about a gathering of people who were fighting for an end to racism and inequality, so she helped organize a busload of attendees. There’d be a march; there’d be inspirational words by the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and other civil rights activists; and perhaps, there’d be change.

“It was like we all had a mission,” Wilson said.

It was a time of growing discontent, as black Americans fought to win housing, voting and public accommodations rights. In June, President Kennedy sent Congress a civil rights bill, which offered offered federal guarantees for such basic rights. The march was intended to pressure Congress to pass the bill.

As soon as she stepped off the bus, with her husband, 4-year-old daughter and 8-month-old son, she felt the buzz of energy. Wilson smiled as she recalled how the assembly of 250,000 people surprised her; she had no way to know then that the March on Washington, 40 years ago today, would be a pivotal moment in history.

From her spot in the crowd at the Lincoln Memorial, Wilson had a clear view of King as she listened to his voice slice through the humid air with the now-familiar refrain: “I Have a Dream.”

The audience screamed, cheered, leaped with each crescendo of the stirring speech and Wilson joined in.

She’s still waiting for the dream to come true.

“I would say today Dr. King’s dream is still one that we are far from reaching,” she said.

While there is yet much progress to be made, blacks and all minorities have made major gains in the past four decades, said Wilson, who added that she identifies strongly with immigrants who struggle for a better life.

Growing up in the South as one of 12 children in a poor family, Wilson was stung by racial discrimination. Schools were segregated. There were separate establishments for blacks and whites.

She left for New York, wrenched away from her close-knit family, because she couldn’t attend a nearby school or find work in her chosen profession in her native Louisiana.

“There’s a part of me to this day that resented having to leave my family to go to New York, where I knew nobody, to get a decent education,” Wilson said.

She added: “When you have a bachelor’s degree, you certainly don’t want to be washing dishes in anybody’s kitchen.”

Wilson began examining the black community in earnest while she was at the Atlanta University School of Social Work in the 1950s. During a winter break, she was assigned to attend a conference in her hometown of New Orleans. She missed the event because it was held at a segregated hotel.

She’d always been interested in politics — and still keeps an eye on issues ranging from city hall elections to federal policies — and wanted to be involved. The 1963 march gave her a way to express herself.

Somewhere amid all the other souls stood James Lyons, now president of California State University, Dominguez Hills, but then just a 17-year-old from New Haven, Conn. Along with his girlfriend, who became his wife, Jocelyn Lyons, they, too, took a bus ride to be a part of the March.

“We’d heard so much about this coming together of people from all over the nation,” Lyons said.

He knew immediately — especially when King delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech — that he was a part of something monumental, but he couldn’t appreciate the historical significance until later. Now, rather than reciting from the pages of a textbook, Lyons is able to tell his children, grandchildren and students that he and his wife were there.

“I don’t think there’s any way that one could really understand the place in history of this event,” Lyons said. “I couldn’t put it in historical perspective at the time.”

Even if he didn’t know it then, Lyons changed that day. He learned that racism wasn’t just about him and his experiences. He saw the multitude of others who were, too, affected.

He is still seeking the dream that King put into his head.

“I think if Martin Luther King Jr. were to give that speech today, he would have to tweak it some, but it would still be relevant,” Lyons said. But there have also been tremendous gains for blacks, in employment, education, housing and other areas. Just a decade ago, Lyons joined a fitness center in Jackson, Miss., and was able to relax in a whirlpool along with white club members. “In 1952, that would have been unheard of,” he said.

Advancements toward racial equality, however, should not make people complacent. While many say, with relief, that overt racism is eliminated, Lyons said there is a type of discrimination that is harder to detect. There are still economic and political inequities to cure.

In commemorating the 40th anniversary of the march, Lyons said it is important to reflect on the progress, but also the problems that remain. There is still overwhelming poverty, and blacks have an inordinately high incarceration rate.

Wilson said that there is a silent but sinister racism to battle.

“I don’t know if we’ll ever get rid of it completely,” she said.

But, there are those who will keep marching to try.Find out more For more information on the historic 1963 March on Washington and how what it meant in general see usinfo.state.gov/usa/civilrights/anniversary.