To get an idea of what an inspiration Coretta Scott King was to others, consider the words of then-high school student Erin Johnson, who wrote an essay for The Spokesman-Review on the occasion of King’s speech in Spokane in 2000:

“If it weren’t for her dedication and that of people in communities around the country who assisted in the fight against racism and other injustices, I most likely would not be writing this article. I am a young minority woman. I would not have had the opportunity for the schooling I have received, nor would I be living with the family I am now a part of.”

Seldom has the phrase “rest in peace” been more appropriate than it is today. Coretta Scott King, who carried the torch of nonviolent support for human rights after her husband was assassinated, died Monday at the of age 78.

Though she will be forever linked to her husband, she carved out a significant legacy of her own. She waged determined yet dignified battles for social justice, not just for African Americans, but for women and children, gays and lesbians, and the poor. This expansion of human rights advocacy created tension among the traditional leaders of the civil rights movement, but she would not be dissuaded.

As she once said: “I am often identified as the widow of Martin Luther King Jr. Sometimes, I am also identified as a civil rights leader or a human rights activist. While these designations are factually correct, I would also like to be thought of as a complex, three-dimensional, flesh-and-blood human being with a rich storehouse of experiences, much like everyone else, yet unique in my own way, much like everyone else.”

Society wasn’t very accepting of strong women when Coretta Scott King reluctantly agreed to move back to the Deep South shortly after marriage. Her tradition-minded husband preferred she stay home and raise children while he led the civil rights movement. Like most women back then, she subsumed her dream to help others attain theirs.

Though her home was bombed and her family was continually threatened, she never wavered in supporting her husband. Even in the face of his infidelity, she remained true to the cause.

When an assassin’s bullet cut down her husband in Memphis, she maintained her composure and took his place at the head of a planned march. From then on, she became a leader, finally realizing her potential as she fought to open up opportunities for others.

It’s a credit to her influence and stature, that both sides on the affirmative action debate claimed her support. She urged Washington voters to turn down Initiative 200, an anti-affirmative action measure that passed in 1998.

But she had more victories than defeats. She worked for 10 years to get a national holiday named for her husband. She shined a light on apartheid in South Africa and the tragedy of AIDS throughout the world. She lobbied for hate-crimes legislation and founded the Martin Luther King Jr. Center for Nonviolent Social Change.

On Monday, a paternalistic headline writer called her the “guardian of a legacy.” She deserves better. Because of her, one of Dr. King’s famous phrases now has broader reach:

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”