JD - Slidell
JD passed away Sunday.
The funeral is Saturday 12/2 at Mt Olive AME in Slidell. Visitation from 10-11, service at 11, with burial in the Slidell Memorial Garden, right there behind Lincoln Park. We will send flowers to the church, and will collect donations for the family. We hope to give a gift to the mother to help cover funeral costs and to the stepdaughter he loved so much in South Africa. If you would like to give a gift you can send it to New City (2424 E 4th St, Chattanooga, TN 37404) and designate it in the subject. We will then distribute accordingly.
What a strange story his is, and how God in His sovereign unfathomable plan brought my life and his into contact, briefly. I'll never forget the first day, when Pastor Keith came down so excited: There's a blind guy sitting in front of his house, with a tree on the roof! We've got to help this guy! And so it began. So many teams spent time with him, so many were blessed by him. I think of the Brown family who sent down a tape made by their kids, so he could hear them.
I don't know his full story, but I'll tell what I know. he was a boxer, and not a bad one in his day. He was born down in the Gulf Coast area and his Mother and Sister both live in Slidell. Jimmy "Sweet Sugar Demon" Owens, when told that there was no such place as his claimed home-town of Hell, Miss, is quoted as saying: "When you're black, any place in Mississippi is hell."
In 1975 he went 10 rounds with Marvin Hagler. At some point in those days he married Busi Molefe, a South African dancer on tour with Ipi Tombi. She later continued on tour and returned to South Africa.
"It was a crocodile, man, a crocodile. I moved to the left and he bit me, I moved to the right and he hit me with his tail," said JD when I asked him how he last his vision. I asked what the other guy looked like after the fight and he said "Not a scratch on him, man, I told you I was fighting a crocodile!"
When Katrina hit, JD, like so many others in Lincoln Park, stayed in his home. He loved his little house, his community. He could find his way around it, walk all over, get to the store. He knew people and they knew him. As the waters rose he tried to keep his tv up out of the water, climbed up on a chair, but it floated away. The water pulled the stairs from the front of his house and ripped the door open. Next he tried getting onto the fridge, but it kept flipping over in the water. He ended up on a sofa, tying it to the door so it did not float away, so he still knew where he was, and rode out the storm. He could hear people yelling and crying throughout, until finally someone swam up to his house to check on him. No rescue crews ever came to Lincoln Park.
Our teams began working on his house right away, clearing the trees so he could get electricity reconnected, replacing the stairs so he could get in and out, gutting the walls while he still lived there, replacing them, the bathroom, the kitchen, the hot water heater. The last person on the last team on the last day before I left Slidell at Christmas was working at JD's house, trying to get the kitchen sink connected and working right.
JD wanted to come visit Pastor Keith's church, which was still quite a mess in those days. Keith was pushing hard to reach out to the Lincoln Park community. JD would get up at the offering and sing in his unique style, and throughout the sermon would answer back to Keith. I was never sure if he realized or cared how non-diverse the church was. A classic moment was at one of the Lincoln Park block parties we threw, where JD got up and sang the Battle Hymn of the Republic (Makes the white folks uncomfortable, he said) but added "And Pastor Keith" after each verse.
He loved the teams, loved visitors, loved talking, laughing, singing. In his own way he loved the Lord too, I do not doubt it.
When I left in December Trinity gave me a ticket to South Africa, where I had previously lived, for some needed R&R. JD gave me his wife's name and address and asked me to look in on her. I happened to actually be in that part of South Africa, so I did just that. Long story short, his wife had died a number of years before, leaving a daughter behind. JD was able to get in touch then with his stepdaughter, and they communicated quite regularly ever since. They were working on plans for her to come visit him this year. I called them this morning and it was rough.
I know many of you knew JD and would love to hear your stories. I'll post this on my blog: bripatmc.blogspot.com and hope you will add your thoughts, stories, etc. Pray for the family, pray that somehow through all this God's name is glorified, lost souls won.
The funeral is Saturday 12/2 at Mt Olive AME in Slidell. Visitation from 10-11, service at 11, with burial in the Slidell Memorial Garden, right there behind Lincoln Park. We will send flowers to the church, and will collect donations for the family. We hope to give a gift to the mother to help cover funeral costs and to the stepdaughter he loved so much in South Africa. If you would like to give a gift you can send it to New City (2424 E 4th St, Chattanooga, TN 37404) and designate it in the subject. We will then distribute accordingly.
What a strange story his is, and how God in His sovereign unfathomable plan brought my life and his into contact, briefly. I'll never forget the first day, when Pastor Keith came down so excited: There's a blind guy sitting in front of his house, with a tree on the roof! We've got to help this guy! And so it began. So many teams spent time with him, so many were blessed by him. I think of the Brown family who sent down a tape made by their kids, so he could hear them.
I don't know his full story, but I'll tell what I know. he was a boxer, and not a bad one in his day. He was born down in the Gulf Coast area and his Mother and Sister both live in Slidell. Jimmy "Sweet Sugar Demon" Owens, when told that there was no such place as his claimed home-town of Hell, Miss, is quoted as saying: "When you're black, any place in Mississippi is hell."
In 1975 he went 10 rounds with Marvin Hagler. At some point in those days he married Busi Molefe, a South African dancer on tour with Ipi Tombi. She later continued on tour and returned to South Africa.
"It was a crocodile, man, a crocodile. I moved to the left and he bit me, I moved to the right and he hit me with his tail," said JD when I asked him how he last his vision. I asked what the other guy looked like after the fight and he said "Not a scratch on him, man, I told you I was fighting a crocodile!"
When Katrina hit, JD, like so many others in Lincoln Park, stayed in his home. He loved his little house, his community. He could find his way around it, walk all over, get to the store. He knew people and they knew him. As the waters rose he tried to keep his tv up out of the water, climbed up on a chair, but it floated away. The water pulled the stairs from the front of his house and ripped the door open. Next he tried getting onto the fridge, but it kept flipping over in the water. He ended up on a sofa, tying it to the door so it did not float away, so he still knew where he was, and rode out the storm. He could hear people yelling and crying throughout, until finally someone swam up to his house to check on him. No rescue crews ever came to Lincoln Park.
Our teams began working on his house right away, clearing the trees so he could get electricity reconnected, replacing the stairs so he could get in and out, gutting the walls while he still lived there, replacing them, the bathroom, the kitchen, the hot water heater. The last person on the last team on the last day before I left Slidell at Christmas was working at JD's house, trying to get the kitchen sink connected and working right.
JD wanted to come visit Pastor Keith's church, which was still quite a mess in those days. Keith was pushing hard to reach out to the Lincoln Park community. JD would get up at the offering and sing in his unique style, and throughout the sermon would answer back to Keith. I was never sure if he realized or cared how non-diverse the church was. A classic moment was at one of the Lincoln Park block parties we threw, where JD got up and sang the Battle Hymn of the Republic (Makes the white folks uncomfortable, he said) but added "And Pastor Keith" after each verse.
He loved the teams, loved visitors, loved talking, laughing, singing. In his own way he loved the Lord too, I do not doubt it.
When I left in December Trinity gave me a ticket to South Africa, where I had previously lived, for some needed R&R. JD gave me his wife's name and address and asked me to look in on her. I happened to actually be in that part of South Africa, so I did just that. Long story short, his wife had died a number of years before, leaving a daughter behind. JD was able to get in touch then with his stepdaughter, and they communicated quite regularly ever since. They were working on plans for her to come visit him this year. I called them this morning and it was rough.
I know many of you knew JD and would love to hear your stories. I'll post this on my blog: bripatmc.blogspot.com and hope you will add your thoughts, stories, etc. Pray for the family, pray that somehow through all this God's name is glorified, lost souls won.
Comments