A Great Public Servant: James F. Foxx, Sr.

When I asked my Grandfather, James F. Foxx, Sr., to be my best man, I was not prepared for his excitement. He had bridged so many gaps in my life, and on the occasion of my marriage to Samara, I wanted to have him standing next to me. As the October 13, 2001 wedding day approached, however, he became increasingly insistent that I get a "back up" in case he felt unable to make the trip to Baton Rouge, Louisiana. Although I tried to convince him that, at age 85, he was still young enough to travel by airplane, he insisted, and I eventually assured him that a "back up" had been secured. As it turns out, Granddaddy had serious heart congestion. In retrospect, I am sure that he knew something was wrong but, in real time, the signals were not obvious.

On September 29, 2001, he entered the hospital. He died on October 26. On October 31, feeling the odd mixture of great joy about my new life with Samara and deep sadness at the loss of my Grandfather, I delivered these remarks at his funeral services at Memorial Presbyterian Church in Charlotte, North Carolina. I include my remarks about him because I am so proud of who he was. He gave me a blueprint for how to be a great public servant.

Final Words for My Best Man

My grandfather had four great loves in his life -- his God, his family, this Charlotte community and his country.

As long as he was able, my Grandfather got down on his knees to pray before bedtime. He prayed for all of ya’ll and me -- and we are going to need many prayers without him.

He would sit at the kitchen table and run down what all of his children and grandchildren were doing. That was his joy. His love of family could not be extinguished. It was unconditional, it was complete and it was enduring.

My Grandfather worked tirelessly to bring out the best in our community. He saw our community struggling with so many issues, and he hated to see that. He believed so deeply that there was nothing wrong with us that could not be fixed by what is right with us.

My grandfather literally walked through back doors for most of his life so that his children, his grandchildren and his great-grandchildren could walk through front doors. My Grandfather served his country in World War II as a Navy Shipman, even as the country refused to let him fight. He served his country as an educator, and even then, he suffered indignities. He often talked to me about Hunter Huss, the famed Superintendent of the Gaston County Schools during segregation, who blasted my Grandfather with expletives and derogatory racial epithets for agreeing with his students that conditions at old Reid High School ought to be improved. They named a high school after Hunter Huss. They closed my Grandfather’s school, and he finished his career, not as a high school principal, but as a junior high school math teacher.

There are two remarkable things I can say about this. First, my Grandfather never complained about the turn his career took. He knew that thousands of black children, myself included, would benefit by attending integrated schools, even at the price of his livelihood and status. Not only did he refuse to become embittered, but he also refused to allow his family to become embittered, too. This is the kind of everyday heroism that we so often talk about but seldom see. The second amazing thing is that people never stopped calling my Grandfather "Mr. Foxx." And he never corrected you all either! (Laughter)

My Grandfather was jealous of us grandchildren. He told me so. "Anthony," he would say, "I am just so happy that you all can do these things." No, Granddaddy, we are proud of you. It is because of you that we have the opportunities we have today.

My grandfather believed in the underdog, those he called "the least of these." He believed that our society could not be measured by the accomplishments of the powerful. He believed that we must measure our success as a community by the conditions of the weakest and the poorest among us. Maybe this had something to do with growing up in a house with seven other siblings during the Great Depression. All I know is that, in his household, no one was richer or poorer than anyone else. If you had something, it did not belong to you -- it belonged to us.

He was born in 1916, as World War I was being fought. He lived through prohibition, the Great Depression, World War II, the Red Scare and the Cold War, the Cuban Missile Crisis, the Civil Rights Movement and the 70s Oil Crisis. He lived to see 16 Presidents of the United States: Wilson, Harding, Coolidge, Hoover, F. Roosevelt, Truman, Eisenhower, Kennedy, Johnson, Nixon, Ford, Carter, Reagan, Bush, Clinton and Bush II serve as Presidents of this United States in his lifetime. His favorite and least favorite coming right there at the end. (Laughter) He outlived so many in his time. 85 years is a long time.

Those hands. My Grandfather administered many whippings with his hands. (Laughter) Boy, those hands could move fast to grab you by the arm as you tried to escape. And that voice could send you out to the backyard trees to grab your own switch.

As I got older, my Grandfather treated me like a friend as well as a Grandson. We talked about politics, this community, faith and many of y'all. (Laughter) He found a way to love everything and everybody. He lived life with uncommon grace. He never knew how great he was. He just took life as it came. He did what he wanted to do, and he said what he wanted to say.

After being diagnosed with heart disease, he sought aggressive treatment to repair his heart. The surgery was successful. His heart was stronger and more vibrant than it had been in years. The only problem was that his other organs were having to keep up. Sadly, they failed him. And so my grandfather died, just as he lived: with a big, strong heart.