06/04/2021
Tomorrow starting at noon by the Jackson Park Fieldhouse, we will be Celebrating Wardell Lavender’s life with stories and chicken. Join us! Until then, check out this beautiful tribute our friend Duff Morton sent in for tomorrow...
"People often call Wardell Lavender the Mayor of Woodlawn, and that seems correct, but I would like to remember him in another way, too. I’d like to remember Wardell as a lighthouse. Mayors order people around – or, at least, some mayors order people around. Lighthouses make people shine with light.
"There is a memory that I cherish of Wardell, volunteering on the campaign of a candidate whose name I’m not going to mention. It was a cold, sunny day in an empty back office somewhere. Wardell and I were sitting at two long folding tables, making phone calls for the candidate, reading the phone numbers off of paper lists that the campaign had given us. Most of the volunteers were taking maybe a minute or two to make each phone call – 'Hi, please remember to vote for our candidate. Thank you for your support.' And I myself felt pretty special if I could get someone to stay on the phone for three minutes. But Wardell was spending five or ten minutes for each call.
"So I wondered what was going on, and I started eavesdropping. Call after call, Wardell seemed to know the people on the other end of the line. He was chatting like an old friend. 'What’s new? How’s your father doing? Do you still have that cat?'
"And when he talked to each person, you could see him shining; you could tell that people were shining back.
"That’s how well Wardell knew people: if you handed him a random list of phone numbers in Woodlawn, he had a connection to everyone on the list. That’s how much light he brought into the world.
"Also, I can remember the way that Wardell wrapped up his phone calls that day. He wouldn’t say, Our candidate is number one. He would say, 'We’re going to elect this guy. And if he doesn’t do right, we’ll kick him out in four years.' That line made me smile and it still makes me smile, because it shows where Wardell’s faith lies. It’s not faith in an alderman or a congressperson. It’s faith in the 'we,' the 'us,' the people who use their power to change their world – and change it again in four years.
"I remember Wardell’s calm smile, his generosity, the peace that I felt. I feel so grateful that he let some of his light shine on me. And I hope that we can keep reflecting that light so that new people, the people he did not have time to meet, can start to see themselves illuminated with the brightness and the power that he left behind for us to share."
Tomorrow starting at noon by the Jackson Park Fieldhouse, we will be Celebrating Wardell Lavender’s life with stories and chicken. Join us! Until then, check out this beautiful tribute our friend Duff Morton sent in for tomorrow...
"People often call Wardell Lavender the Mayor of Woodlawn, and that seems correct, but I would like to remember him in another way, too. I’d like to remember Wardell as a lighthouse. Mayors order people around – or, at least, some mayors order people around. Lighthouses make people shine with light.
"There is a memory that I cherish of Wardell, volunteering on the campaign of a candidate whose name I’m not going to mention. It was a cold, sunny day in an empty back office somewhere. Wardell and I were sitting at two long folding tables, making phone calls for the candidate, reading the phone numbers off of paper lists that the campaign had given us. Most of the volunteers were taking maybe a minute or two to make each phone call – 'Hi, please remember to vote for our candidate. Thank you for your support.' And I myself felt pretty special if I could get someone to stay on the phone for three minutes. But Wardell was spending five or ten minutes for each call.
"So I wondered what was going on, and I started eavesdropping. Call after call, Wardell seemed to know the people on the other end of the line. He was chatting like an old friend. 'What’s new? How’s your father doing? Do you still have that cat?'
"And when he talked to each person, you could see him shining; you could tell that people were shining back.
"That’s how well Wardell knew people: if you handed him a random list of phone numbers in Woodlawn, he had a connection to everyone on the list. That’s how much light he brought into the world.
"Also, I can remember the way that Wardell wrapped up his phone calls that day. He wouldn’t say, Our candidate is number one. He would say, 'We’re going to elect this guy. And if he doesn’t do right, we’ll kick him out in four years.' That line made me smile and it still makes me smile, because it shows where Wardell’s faith lies. It’s not faith in an alderman or a congressperson. It’s faith in the 'we,' the 'us,' the people who use their power to change their world – and change it again in four years.
"I remember Wardell’s calm smile, his generosity, the peace that I felt. I feel so grateful that he let some of his light shine on me. And I hope that we can keep reflecting that light so that new people, the people he did not have time to meet, can start to see themselves illuminated with the brightness and the power that he left behind for us to share."
