Congressman Lewis

As you know, Congressman Lewis was my hero. He was the embodiment of the Beloved Community that Dr. King spoke, and dreamed about.  For those of you who had the pleasure of meeting him, you know his compassion was palpable. When he walked into a space, you felt to the core of your soul that this being, John Lewis, was authentic. You felt love radiating from him and when he hugged you, you became breathless, you felt his pure joy of loving humanity and the elegant regard he held for you as an individual.

I will never forget the quiet moments I shared with him looking at the photos of him from Bloody Sunday and him saying to me Elaine, I never got my backpack back, I don’t know what happened to it. I will never forget the emotion that welled in his eyes or the look of determination in his face when we spoke of the movement and the work yet to be done and him lovingly remarking on the lives of others in the photos with him.

Every phase I try to write that would acknowledge his passing seems so trite and small. Yes the world has lost a hero, a champion, a giant, we cannot say enough words about how we will mourn his death or how much he  will be missed. But those sentiments do no justice to the loss this world has suffered. You see, we lost a beacon, a bright radiant beacon one that drew us to true north. When we, as a country and a movement lose our direction we only had to look for John to lead us home. When we would lose our belief in this country we could point to the Boy from Troy, who would remind us that he was the son of sharecroppers and the grandson of slaves, and look where I am. When we would grow fainthearted and weary, we had a preacher who reminded us of our God and would encourage our faith to move forward for a brighter day. And when we would reach a place where we could stand injustice no longer, we had John to remind us to get into Good Trouble and demand in all the power of peace for justice to be done.

Perhaps it is fitting for he and C.T. Vivian to have exited this life together, perhaps this new civil rights movement we are in now, was the exact ordained time for him to leave us. He has bequeathed so much to us, we will never know the countless, days and hours or the indignities he suffered to bring us this legacy.  I hope he knows we are grateful. I hope he knows we will carry on. I hope he knows without him our world would be so diminished, so less bright.

He crossed over that bridge one Sunday, and the world was never the same.

Elaine Hardy, Chair