Chicagoans mourn Rev. Jesse Jackson: 'He had enough heart to challenge wrong'
Outside Rainbow PUSH’s headquarters, four bouquets of flowers, a white balloon, and a note to the Jackson family rested on the pavement near the building as passersby paid their respects to civil rights leader Rev. Jesse Jackson Sr. Tuesday morning.
“His tentacles reached out real far,” Gregory Sain, a community supporter said of Jackson's impact. “Even though he’s been struggling with health issues, Jackson was absolutely someone that will be remembered as ‘that’ individual that helped Black folks get respect – to some degree – with the Democratic party and politics period.”
“He was courageous, and he had enough heart to challenge wrong,” Sain added.
Sain was among those from all realms — between leaders around the globe to city locals touched by Jackson's activism — mourning the loss. Jackson died at age 84 on Tuesday, his family said in a statement, after struggling with progressive supranuclear palsy.
Congregants at Apostolic Church of God in Woodlawn said Jackson would be missed, but his legacy would live on.
“[Jackson] has been instrumental in fighting for justice and freedom for all people,” Martin Travis, 64, said.
Travis said both of his parents were involved in the civil rights movement and he began picketing alongside his father at just 7 years old, advocating for Black workers.
His father, Lawrence Travis, brought him to demonstrations organized by Operation Breadbasket, a group Jackson led that aimed to improve economic conditions for African Americans by pressuring companies to hire and promote Black employees.
In July 1968, Travis and his father were picketing outside of an A&P grocery store at 91st Street and Cottage Grove. A young Travis held up a sign that read “Don't buy at A&P” and said he remembers it being hot outside, but understood that “if my father took time out to do this, it was important.”
Travis, also a member of Omega Psi Phi — the same fraternity Jackson belonged to — said he met the reverend several times over the years. He remembers him as “humble.”
“He was aware of his leadership role in the community, but I think he was also humble,” said Travis. “I didn’t perceive him as being very egotistical.”
Earl Grandberry, pastor at True Rock Ministries in South Loop, said Jackson was a bright light for Black people amid a world structured against them. All it took was a simple phrase: ”You are somebody.”
“If there was a battle, he was there on the front line,” Grandberry said. “When you got through talking to Rev. Jackson, he gave you hope.’”
Passion Terrell, 44, said she was at peace when she found out about Jackson's passing, knowing he had lived a long life. She said his legacy lives on in the rights Jackson championed.
“One of the fondest memories I have of him is when Obama won, the tears in his eyes. It was very grounded and deep,” Terrell, of Bronzeville, said.
Chloe Gould, a 41-year-old Bronzeville resident, said people had been anticipating his death, but that it still hit “like you lost a family member.” She said she worries for the future of civil rights activism because modern activist leaders had not stepped in to fill Jackson's shoes.
“It’s emotional for the Black culture,” Gould said. “I’m a millennial, so I grew up watching 'A Different World.'" Jackson famously guest-starred as himself on the series to give a speech about young people striving to make a difference.
"Who is gonna be the civil rights activist now?” she said.
Community mourners stressed the importance of continuing to uphold what Jackson Sr. stood for even after his death.
"We have to continue to motivate, inspire and raise up other individuals,” Sain said. “Rev. Jackson will be a hero to many people.”
And Travis was more hopeful that Jackson’s legacy would live on “through not only his children, but the people,” who he said would continue to advocate for equality and justice.
“He will be missed, but I think there's people in place who will continue the fight,” he said.
Darline Lewis said she was “filled with gratitude” for Jackson’s legacy.
“He fought for his people without reservations,” said Lewis, 81. “He said he wasn't a perfect man, but he was a perfect servant, and I witnessed that.”
Lewis plans to honor his memory by sharing stories of his legacy with her grandchildren.
“I’m grateful he was able to walk among us,” she said.
Contributing: Brandon Kondritz