Maybe I'm getting old, but over the last few years, I have really begun to take notice when people pass - especially "larger-than-life" figures that I grew up with.  In recent weeks, we have loss several such figures, including Maynard Jackson, Katharine Hepburn, and Barry White.  Each one of these individuals had an impact on my development and consciousness; and their passing is a clear reminder that time is fleeting and I need to be busy pursuing my life's mission.

I don't think it's possible to say enough about Maynard Jackson, the former Mayor of the City of Atlanta.  He came to office when I was a young man contemplating college.  I had formed an interest in Black economic development while in high school and in college, I conducted independent research on Chicago's Black-owned banks.  In grad school, I began to understand the need for public sector initiatives to sustain the growth and development of Black and minority owned businesses.  Maynard Jackson was at the forefront of politicians creating significant opportunities for Black contractors. 

Jackson knew that opportunities for minorities would not appear magically, especially when the old, established way of doing business seemed so efficient.  He understood that opportunity oftentimes requires intervention.  He demonstrated that "business" in Atlanta was not only work more efficient, but also more equitable, and inclusive when government mandated diversity in the awarding of contracts.  Yes, Maynard Jackson was a proponent of Affirmative Action and he used his political position to advance opportunities for those who had been locked out by the old-boy network.

I had the good fortune of meeting Maynard Jackson twice - both times while I was attending business conventions in Atlanta.  While Mayor of Atlanta, he made it a point to attend as many minority business functions as possible.  In addition to being an astute politician, Maynard Jackson was extremely personable and approachable.  The second time I met him was in the lobby of a hotel.  He was standing alone, apparently waiting for someone.  He saw me and extended a warm smile and handshake, though I doubt that he recalled our initial meeting.  We talked briefly, and I was amazed at how approachable and likeable this big city mayor was.  I will never forget that he was there in the middle of a downtown hotel without a small army of bodyguards and personal attendants.  I was even more shocked that he had initiated the contact.  Talk about Southern hospitality.  

I've met a few mayors in my lifetime, including Mayor John Lindsey of New York City - when I was a kid; and a lot of Chicago mayors including Mayor Jane Byrne - the first female mayor of Chicago or any major American city, Mayor Eugene Sawyer - who filled in for the remaining term of the first Mayor Daley when he died suddenly of a heart attack, and was Chicago's first Black mayor; Mayor Harold Washington who was a giant of a man and also amazingly approachable; and the current Mayor Richard M. Daley.  All did their part to expand opportunities for minorities and disadvantaged individuals, but Maynard Jackson ranks tops on my list for his effectiveness and commitment.  His sudden and untimely death on June 23, 2003, is a powerful reminder of the need for everyone - especially Black men to take care of their health.  

Earlier this year, I promised to make healthcare a greater issue in my personal life as well as in this publication, and I have yet to fulfill that promise on both accounts. I will, I promise, because I now have a great sense that time is passing.

Katharine Hepburn's death on June 29, 2003 did not come as a surprise, but it is no less an extraordinary loss.  I love great films and Katharine Hepburn was an actress I greatly admired.  I first saw her on the family's black-and-white television set.  She was often appearing in old black-and-white movies that my parents enjoyed watching from their day.  

I liked the daring, smart and spirited characters Hepburn portrayed, but as a youngster, I thought she sometimes showed too much spirit.  If Spencer Tracey and Carey Grant couldn't "handle" her, what did anyone else have?  As a young man - coming of age - I preferred the comparatively quiet beauty and charm of Elizabeth Taylor.  I still remember my excitement when I discovered that the two actresses appeared in a film together.  The film was Suddenly Last Summer, which also starred Montgomery Cliff.  I first saw that film as a young teenager.  It was during summer vacation, and the 3 o'clock afternoon movie was a welcomed alternative to playing in the afternoon heat.

I recalled being moved by the powerful performances of the three main actors, although I really wasn't sure what had tormented Elizabeth Taylor's character during much of the film, and why Katharine Hepburn's character kept insisting that nothing was wrong with her son.  I didn't fully appreciate the film until many years later.  Only then did I fully realize that the doctor played by Montgomery Cliff was trying to help Taylor's character come to terms with the vicious murder of her cousin, who was also the son of Hepburn's character.  The murder occurred because the cousin was a homosexual who tried to seduce a group of young boys on a Mediterranean beach.  It was the first time I recalled seeing the depiction of a "seriously" gay individual in film, and I was powerfully moved by the denial of Hepburn's character and her attempts to protect her son's supposed reputation, as well as her own, even if it meant committing her niece to a mental institution.  

Hepburn often appeared in films that explored social issues, and one of her most powerful performances was in Guess Who's Coming to Dinner, a film that starred her life-long love, Spencer Tracey. Hepburn played the mother of a young women who fell in love with a Black man, played by Sidney Portier.  I liked Spencer Tracey as a kid, but I found it difficult watching him portray someone who reflected the racist thinking of the day.  It was even more difficult to see Hepburn, who I admired even more than Tracey, play a woman bitterly oppose to her daughter's interracial marriage, although she became more accepting of it over the course of the film.

Both films contained landmark performances and offer compelling windows into how people thought and viewed the world not so long ago.  I recommend both Suddenly Last Summer and Guess Who's Coming to Dinner to anyone under 30 years of age, especially in light of last month's U.S. Supreme Court decision on Affirmative Action and Texas' Sodomy Laws.

Barry White's passing on July 4th is also a powerful reminder of the ability that many artists have to influence a generation.  Like so many people in my generation and beyond, courtship and romance would not be the same without the music of Barry White.  "Oh Baby, oh baby" was a phrase I often mimicked to try to convince some young women to come join me for blue lights in the basement.  White's appeal eventually transcended the Black community, and young people of all backgrounds came to appreciate the velvety voice and hypnotic melody of much of White's music.  Sadly, White's passing from kidney disease is another reminder of the need to tend to one's health.

So, here we are, beginning the second half of 2003.  Everyday we receive reminders of the shortness of life.  If you haven't read my article entitled Eight Ways to Make 2003 Count, I encourage you to visit the archives section and do so.  I reread it while preparing this entry, and I have to admit that I've successfully tackled only three of the eight suggestions, but that's not sufficient.  

Now that I have confessed my shortcomings, I'll ask you, Are you living your life in ways that count?  If not, get started.  Your life matters and time is passing much more quickly than you think.

The End

Click here for Eight Ways to Make 2003 Count