How Jesse Jackson gave me a clear sense of belonging

A year prior, he’d made history by winning five primaries and caucuses on his way to finishing third in the 1984 race for the Democratic nomination for president. No Black candidate had ever won a statewide vote in the presidential nominating process. Until Jesse.

And here was Jackson in a high school gym. He was living history exhorting us to love ourselves and walk in faith.

Where Jesse went, the media followed in those days. My journalism teacher, Jim Garrick, directed me to stand among the professional media covering his speech. So, I stood among the suits and cameras not knowing what to do. Eventually, Jackson spotted me. I got a knowing smile. After the last of the questions, he walked over and assured me that if I were picked for this, then I belonged.

Credit: Greenville News

Credit: Greenville News

He fought for people who had been denied opportunities

Credit: Jeremy Freeman / Dagger

Credit: Jeremy Freeman / Dagger

Fourteen years later, we met again. This time, I was a professional journalist — one who had made a small piece of history in our hometown. I was the first Black journalist named to the Greenville News’ editorial page staff in its 128-year history. I was an editorial writer and columnist. I was 28 and on the fast track.

When Jackson sat down for our editorial board meeting, the knowing smile returned. It was unspoken but clearly communicated. A fast-tracking Black journalist is exactly what the Civil Rights Movement he helped lead intended to deliver. What he saw at the table was opportunity realized, a collective win for people who had been historically denied.

Later, I told him the story of our first meeting. Fourteen years prior. In a high school gym. A teenager standing in the press pool. A history maker insisting he belonged.

Now, I was routinely at the table with presidential aspirants. In early voting South Carolina, those seeking the highest office in the land made a point to know the journalists who covered politics, wrote columns and decided endorsements.

We both marveled at the power of God.

Jesse Louis Jackson lost his battle with several illnesses and died at 84. He lived a remarkable life. He was driven and accomplished. He was imperfect and polarizing. He is etched in our nation’s history, an eloquent spokesman for the promise of America.

Jackson belonged to the world but was very much of Greenville

In his hometown, he was an almost mythical figure. Everyone “knew” him, so he was ours. Then you would see him in that iconic photo from the Lorraine Motel, see him giving that opening speech at the legendary Wattstax music festival, see him on stage at the Democratic National Convention giving one of the great speeches in American history, and you understood he belonged not only to us but to the world.

Over the years, Jackson and I would continue to cross paths.

He was a mainstay in the news. My career would include a series of jobs overseeing political coverage, so Jackson and his staff would always make sure I had access to him.

I would get the occasional call from Jackson, typically to talk about Greenville and to share his views on whatever was in the news. He spent plenty of time engaging reporters, something many of us have been reflecting on in the days since his death.

The retail politician believed in retail media, too.

After one of those calls in 2004, I wrote a column in favor of his high school football coach’s hall of fame candidacy. Coach J.D. Mathis had just died. He was a powerful influence on Jackson and hundreds of other boys who played for him at Sterling High School, including my father. I wrote that in a column. After it published, Jackson called to thank me for making the case. It was genuine gratitude for recognizing a man he loved and respected.

I led coverage of him even when it made him angry

A few times, I drew the ire of the good reverend.

It was the lesser of the two hot mic moments regarding candidate Barack Obama that had me on the phone with the Rev. Jesse Jackson late one night in 2007.

Earlier in the day, Jackson had given a speech at Benedict College in Columbia, South Carolina. He was advocating on behalf of six Black high school students in Jena, Louisiana, who had been charged with attempted murder after a school fight with a white student. Jackson and others condemned the charges as racially targeted prosecutorial overreach. The students would come to be known as the Jena 6.

Onstage, Jackson said “Jena is a defining moment, just like Selma was a defining moment.”Offstage, he told a group of people, including a State newspaper reporter with a recorder, that candidate Obama was “acting like he’s white” by not forcefully condemning what he considered a clear injustice.

After being told we would include his offstage remarks in our story, Jackson called me.

I listened.

He was worried about how this would play in the historic contest between Obama and Hillary Rodham Clinton.

I understood.

I backed our Black reporter and his accurate accounting of events.

He was disappointed and a little angry.

But I also think he respected the fact that I held my ground, took the time to explain my position and made sure I was available whenever he had concerns about our reporting. If I couldn’t do that, then did I really belong?

After moving to Georgia, I would see less of Jackson.

It’s here I would make history again, becoming the first Black journalist to lead The Atlanta Journal-Constitution’s newsroom.

I am here because of the Rev. Jesse Jackson. He is among the many who fought for my generation to have such opportunities.

Opportunities to lead, to achieve, to belong.

Leroy Chapman Jr. is the editor-in-chief of the AJC. Email him at Leroy.Chapman@ajc.com.