My leap of faith began from paradise. I had a great job, amazing bosses, fantastic coworkers and I lived in San Diego, California — a city with the finest weather in the U.S. A southern voice on my answering machine had offered me a job — my dream job.
It was nearly November and I had just come back from the beach.
Without hesitation, I dialed the number and accepted the job. Soon, I would be the new editorial cartoonist in Jackson, Mississippi starting on December 16, 1996. My wife shot me a look like, “I hope you know what you are doing.” I shot her a look back that replied, “me,too.”
Most of what I knew about Mississippi emanated from books and, unfortunately, Hollywood. I had been through the state on my way out West — that was when I got my first rock ding in my windshield. I remember traveling down I-10 thinking, “this is where Camille hit.” Sure, I was from Atlanta — but that didn’t count. I needed to do my homework. And needed to start immediately.
I walked from our apartment down Washington Avenue to the local library. I asked for all the books they had on Mississippi and the librarian returned with a whopping two books. One was a book on the general history of Mississippi. The other was a biography of Medgar Evers.
I sat in our living room reading Evers’ story. A cool sea breeze rattled the blinds as a seagull went by. Heck, a 747 could have flown by and I wouldn’t have noticed. I started reading parts of it aloud to my wife. Courage. Love. A desire to make his home better for his children. I think I read the book in an afternoon. Then I reread it.
Last night, I presented the courage award at a scholarship banquet in Medgar’s honor. Myrlie was there. His brother Charles, too. And I got to meet some of his kids and several of his nieces and nephews. I leaned over to his nephew Carlos and said, “I’d imagine your family reunions are amazing.” People that knew and loved Medgar were standing at the podium, telling stories about their friend 52 years after he was assassinated. He came alive again in the Hilton hotel.
When the banquet was over, I briefly spoke to actor Dan Ackroyd. He went on about his love of Mississippi and how more people needed to know about it. I agreed whole-heartedly. I heard the same excitement in his voice that I’ve had for the past 20 years.
I leapt from paradise when I came here. But I found a different kind of paradise when I landed. It’s more flawed. It’s a land of challenge and courage. One that shapes you into a better person.
Soon, I’m visiting Washington, D.C. I’m taking my sons through the Arlington Cemetery. I want to show them where heroes guard freedom for eternity. And somewhere in that garden of stones, we’ll find Medgar Evers’ grave.
I thought about that biography last night and how it made my evening so special. A leap of faith requires courage. And I learned it from a man who died a long time ago.