Marshall Ramsey

Half my life ago, I started as a night janitor at Pope High School. It was my fifth-year in high school and the most important job I’ve ever had. Working at Pope taught me 5 things I never could learn in school.

1.Judge people by their heart not job title.
2. That I am not my job. That how I do my job reflects who I am.
3. That putting a textbook in a toilet and pooping on it is not funny.
4. A pity party is only enjoyed by the person who is throwing it.
5. Talent + Attitude + Effort = A clean school and a bright future.

I think about that job now because I am in a similar place. I must use my talent, have a great attitude and put in the effort.

I thought being a janitor was the worst moment of my life. But it led to so many great moments. It taught me a perspective that got me through cancer and career hiccups. Change seems scary. But it’s also opportunity’s best friend.

So thank you Pope High School for my education. I’m not a graduate, but I am proud to be your only two-time Pulitzer-Finalist Custodian.

P.S. When I was a janitor, I worked with a lady whose husband was an out-of-work Eastern pilot. She worked hard keeping family intact. That lady, who I grew to admire for her grit and work-ethic, is now my mother-in-law.

That’s the end of the Custodian Chronicles. I always think about Pope HS when the kids go back-to-school.

Saw this rainbow immediately after I heard about Robin Williams. Not sure it means anything but it brought an ounce of comfort in a sea of sadness.

But I don’t mind
‘Cause all comedians suffer
On the outside
Try so hard to look tougher
But there’s a cost
When you radiate sunshine
And dreams get lost
Like keys get left on the counter

“All Comedians Suffer” by Neil Finn

This song rattled in my head when I heard the news about Robin Williams.  I thought to myself, how could someone who radiated so much sunshine succumb to the grip of gloom? How could his dreams have gotten lost?  How could he have killed himself?

I guess the pain was just too much.

In hindsight, I guess the signs were there that he suffered from depression.  He battled addiction (self-medication). And I can list several hyper-creative people who have battled mental illness.  Fertile soil grows great weeds as well as great crops. But last night still came as a shock.  A shock that really left me, well, depressed myself.

I guess it’s easy to ask, “With all the bad news in the world why we should care?” Well, it’s BECAUSE of all the bad news.  The world is a frightening place. ISIS, Ebola, war in the Mideast, the turmoil in Missouri, the economy — you name it.  How could the world lose someone who has provided so much joy? Particularly now? We need MORE people who bring light and joy into this dark world, not less.

I just wish someone could have helped Robin Williams find joy at that moment of his darkest hour.

Depression is a sneaky thief that lies you as it pulls a shroud over your eyes.  I know. It lied to me, too.  The year after I was diagnosed with cancer was the most miserable time of my life. Anxiety, fear and gloom joined together to cripple me.  I was terrorized to a standstill.  It’s hard to describe it, really, because it was reality for me.  My world was in chaos yet it seemed so normal. So painful.  So overwhelming. This lie was reality to me. Thankfully, the storm passed because I got help.  I made changes that made incremental improvements.  Joy returned to my life. If you see me out running a million miles, you now know why.

But the bottom line is this: Mental illness shouldn’t be stigmatized; it should be treated.  Williams wasn’t crazy. He was ill. If he had had cancer, high blood pressure, lung disease, rickets or any other disease, we wouldn’t think twice about him seeking help.  Mental illness isn’t just in someone’s head. It’s not selfishness. It’s your brain lying to you.  There are treatments. There are ways of getting people help.  I know many good people who won’t seek that help because they think it will cost them their jobs or that people will think they’re “nuts.”  Some insurance plans won’t even cover therapy. This has to end.

If you know someone with depression, reach out to them. Love them. Get them the help they need.

Me? I’m going to celebrate the force of nature that was Robin Williams. I’m going to watch Good Morning Vietnam, Dead Poet’s Society, Mrs. Doubtfire and Good Will Hunting. I’m going to appreciate an amazing life.  One that has been snuffed out way too soon.

A Review of

JACKSON

Photographs by Ken Murphy

Foreword by John Evans

Lemuria Bookstore

Hardback $75.00, 183 pages

Murphy’s photographs create incomparable tour of capitol city

After a recent cartoon I drew about Jackson, Mississippi, a caller asked me, “Why should I care about Jackson?” I should have sent him Ken Murphy’s new book ‘Jackson’ (Lemuria Books, 2014).

For fifteen years, photographer Murphy has captured Mississippi’s beauty with his camera. In Jackson, he not only chronicles the interesting landmarks. He tells the colorful story of its people as well.

It takes you on a tour without having to start your car.

Start in the lobby of Lemuria Books. Buckle up and read the foreword by owner John Evans and the read long-time Jacksonian Leland Speed’s introduction. Then let your journey begin.

Head downtown and see Jackson’s historic City Hall. Then cruise over to the Governor’s Mansion and the Mississippi Old Capitol. By now you’ll notice how this book is different: These aren’t just postcard photos of buildings. The streets are teeming with parade goers from Mal’s St. Paddy’s Parade. You not only see the city’s beauty: You feel its pulse.

Keep turning the pages. You’re taken geographically and historically through the city.  Medgar Evers home (you see the driveway where he was gunned down) sits next to the William F. Winter Archives & History building. A winding road carries you into Greenwood Cemetery where you’ll stop in front of Eudora Welty’s grave. See Eddie Cotton’s performance at Duling Hall. On the next page are legends Bobby Rush and Jesse Robinson. Jackson’s musical roots run deep. All your senses are engaged visually now. You can almost smell the magnolias in Belhaven and hear the cheers at a Jackson State football game.

Hungry? Stop at Two Sisters Kitchen, Parlor Market, The Mayflower, The Elite or one of Jackson’s other fantastic restaurants. Or just pick up some fresh vegetables at the Farmer’s Market. Thirsty? Pull up a stool at Hal & Mals.  You can almost hear writer Willie Morris holding court. Walk into the men’s room and see the tribute to Elvis. Head up State Street. See Fondren rise like a phoenix. Isn’t that Governor Winter’s home? Sure. He just happens to be standing out front of it.

Your tour continues, and you sit in Eudora Welty’s den and see her writing room. The warmth of the light in the photograph matches the power of her prose. Then you can step into one of Jackson’s art galleries to marvel at the talent that emanates from the city. See Jackson’s houses of worship and institutions of higher education. Take a stroll on a path near the Pearl River and see how close wildlife is to city life. Head to the State Capitol and see where the political sausage is made. Bored? Catch a festival. Go to a museum. Listen to a concert. Go to the Mississippi State Fair. The sun is going down? No problem. The photos and fun continue. Some of Murphy’s most compelling images are the ones taken at night.

Now you’re at the finish line—the Blues Marathon & Half Marathon finish line. Cross it and sit back, relax and read the plate details. It’s when Jackson’s history comes to life. Jackson broadened my knowledge of the city where I’ve worked in for nearly two decades.

Murphy and Lemuria Books have given us a book that deepens our knowledge and appreciation of a complex, interesting city. The City of Jackson should be celebrated. And Jackson does it well.

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Marshall Ramsey, a two-time Pulitzer Finalist, is a nationally-syndicated editorial cartoonist, author, speaker and Mississippi Public Broadcasting radio host. He has drawn cartoons in Jackson for The Clarion-Ledger since 1996.