Documentary chronicles LeMoyne’s Coach Jerry Johnson’s legacy and 1975 national championship

If Clint Jackson hadn’t taken that half-court shot in the game against Lambuth College during the conference tournament in 1975, the season would have been over for the Magicians of LeMoyne-Owen College.

"Somebody had to take the shot,” he had said.

It was indeed a magical moment for Coach Jerry C. Johnson, who led his team to seven straight victories after beating Lambuth in overtime on the way to clenching the NCAA Division III National Championship 57-54 against Glassboro State College (now Rowan University). Hosted by Albright College, LOC finished the season 27-5.

It was the first NCAA Division III National Championship for Coach Johnson’s Magicians and the subject of an independent documentary aptly titled “1^st Forgotten Champions: The Legacy of Jerry C. Johnson.”

The documentary was the brainchild of William Anderson, a former player and LOC’s current head men’s basketball coach. He collaborated with filmmaker Morreco Coleman to cobble together the life and legacy of Coach Johnson, who is now 102 years old.

“We knew each other mutually through someone else and became friends,” said Coleman, a Memphian now living outside of Los Angeles. “I was working on a couple of previous projects. He expressed interest in them and asked me if I’d like to do a documentary on Jerry Johnson.”

Coleman said it took him several years to complete the film. “There were some creative differences,” he said. “Then we came to an agreement. [But then] it took a few years to collect all the data.”

“1^st Forgotten Champions: The Legacy of Jerry C. Johnson” debuted at the Burbank International Film Festival in September and won the “Audience Choice Feature Film” category. The 68-minute film also aired in October at the International Black Film Festival in Nashville. The Indy Memphis Film Festival is next in late October.

The film contains interviews with Anderson, former University of Memphis head basketball coaches John Calipari and Josh Pastner, and current U of M head men’s basketball Coach Anfernee “Penny” Hardaway. 

Robert Newman, Clint Jackson and others who played on the 1975 championship team laud Coach Johnson for being tactical and brilliant on and off the court. Tennessee’s Ninth Congressional District Congressman Steve Cohen also offered his perspective.

Coach Johnson is featured prominently throughout the film. “Ninety percent of the film is pretty much illustrated by Coach Jerry Johnson,” Coleman said.

With over 800 wins in 46 years as head coach of the LOC men’s basketball team, Coach Johnson is one of the most successful basketball coaches in Tennessee college sports history. 

Jackson wouldn’t dispute that fact. He couldn’t. “He’s a great man; he’s a great coach; and he’s a great molder of men,” he said. “I have a great deal of respect for him. A lot of what I am is a result of Coach Johnson.”

Jackson played small forward on the team. He was about 6-foot-3 at the time and grew a couple of inches later. What Coach Johnson instilled in him helped to mold his character, he said, and brought perspective and clarity to his life.

“The first thing he said was, ‘Develop your philosophy…the philosophy of your work, as well as your life,” said Jackson, adding that Coach Johnson mentored his athletes and taught them the rudiments of survival on and off the court.

Newman still beams and speaks tenderly when he reflects on the roster of super talent from Memphis and the other athletes from various colleges comprising that 1975 championship team.

“We had a pretty good team. That team was special. He (Coach Johnson) made us believe we could beat anybody,” said Newman, the team captain playing the guard position and winning the MVP in the NCAA tournament. He scored a total of 48 points.

Newman recalls a formidable 7-foot-1 player from Morgan State University whose reputation was far-reaching. His name was Marvin Nathaniel Webster. They called him “The Human Eraser.”

“Through Johnson’s teaching – and with him making us believe that we could do anything – we beat that team,” Newman said. Webster went on to dominate in the NBA. He died in 2009.

Jackson and Newman fared very well after their glory days at LOC. They got their start as Wildcats playing for Hamilton High School under the legendary Coach Lloyd Williams. 

Then the two friends left for Tennessee State University, where they played for Coach Ed Martin. After a stint there, the homegrown ball players landed at LOC and plied their skills under Coach Johnson. 

Newman followed Coach Johnson’s example as an educator and basketball coach for 38 years at Hamilton and Melrose high schools. So did Jackson, who retired after 36 years as an educator and coach in Memphis City Schools. He is now LOC’s athletics director.

Coach Johnson was the first African American to win the NCAA Division III National Championship and LeMoyne-Owen was the first HBCU (Historically Black Colleges and Universities) to claim the honor.

The team finally received their rings from the LOC Alumni Association in 2010 to commemorate their achievement during a halftime game between LOC and Rust College at Bruce Hall on the campus.

Coach Jerry C. Johnson retired in 2005 and racked up many successes during his 46 years as LeMoyne-Owen College’s head men’s basketball coach. “1^st Forgotten Champions: The Legacy of Jerry C. Johnson” is a testament to his success.

Myron Leon Hudson cultivated a career in sales

Myron Leon Hudson

Myron Leon Hudson spent a great deal of his adult life cultivating a career in sales. He sold encyclopedias, health insurance, and advertising for Black newspapers.

“Myron was a pleasant employee to work with. He was a welcome addition to the team at the Tribune,” said Rosetta Miller Perry, publisher of The Tennessee Tribune in Nashville.

Mr. Hudson was selling advertising for the Tribune when he died Sept. 19 following a brief illness. He was 63.

Prior to working for the Tribune, Mr. Hudson sold classified and display advertising for The Tri-State Defender under publishers Audrey P. McGhee, Marzie G. Thomas and in recent years for the late Bernal E. Smith.

“Myron was a model person. He truly believed in what he was doing,” said McGhee, who published the TSD in the 1980s and ‘90s. “He was a strong individual who believed in his ideas.”

Whatever the issues of the day, Mr. Hudson would chime in with an opinion, she said. “He was vocal about them – maybe because he worked for a Black newspaper.” 

Mr. Hudson’s opinions soon found their way onto the pages of the paper as “King Kool,” his alter ego. They were witty one-liners or serious reflections about the vicissitudes of life. 

He’d quip about any subject and pretty much styled himself as the griot of “Kool.” But more important than his musings, Mr. Hudson spent time plying his skills as the crème de la crème in sales.

“My brother was cool, a snazzy dresser. He loved what he did in sales for a long time. He wanted to be self-sufficient,” Bobbie Hudson-Williams, a former English teacher living in Nashville, remembered. 

He was a deep thinker, she added, a good person, and was very quiet, even when he was at a gathering of his large family.

Another sister, Sheila Hudson, a counselor, concurred. She went on to say that Mr. Hudson taught “me the love of football at an early age. People wanted to know why I love football so much; it’s because of him.”

Although 10 years younger, Sheila Hudson said she grew up with her brother and would join him in front of the TV eating popcorn and drinking Kool-Aid. “He was a great brother,” she said.

She added that her brother couldn’t tear himself away from the game when his favorite teams were playing – the Indianapolis Colts, the Tennessee Titans, the LA Dodgers, and the University of Memphis during football and basketball seasons.

The game of football was more than a pastime for Mr. Hudson. His interest never waned after quarterbacking for the football team at Booker T. Washington High School, where he graduated in 1974. 

After his playing days on the gridiron, Mr. Hudson matriculated right away at the former Memphis State University and graduated in 1979 with a B.A. degree in Communications.

He grew up in the legendary Foote Homes housing project, a 46-acre tract near Downtown Memphis, where nearly 400 families once called home before demolition cleared a path to new housing units.  

“We all grew up in a responsible family. We were reared in a Christian home,” Hudson-Williams said. “And my brother loved his family – and we loved him too.”

Carolyn Orr-Craig, Mr. Hudson’s fiancé, acknowledged that much about his family, but added that his love for her had kindled during the three years that they were together. “I loved him as much as he loved me,” she said. “We were soulmates.”

A personal care assistant, Orr-Craig said Mr. Hudson, who was very private, had planned to “tell the whole world” of their engagement.

“That’s why it’s so hurtful,” she said.

Voting was mandated in the Montgomery household

Voting was mandated in the household of Forest and Lillie Montgomery. They were very
active in the New Chicago community, said Nova Felton (right), who has in her possession
some of her parents' artifacts. (Courtesy photos)

    If Forest and Lillie Montgomery were alive today, they would encourage the people they love and those in their community of New Chicago to register to vote.

    “If you lived in the house with my parents, at 18 you registered to vote. My parents were strong proponents of voting,” said Nova Felton, one of seven Montgomery children. An eighth child died from crib death. 

Mr. Montgomery was born in 1901, in Macon, Miss., and only had a six-grade education. He died in 1986. He would be 119 this year. 

“He was well-read,” Felton said. “He read the newspapers and the Bible every day.”

Mrs. Montgomery was born in 1919, in Racetrack, Miss. She made it to eighth grade. If she hadn’t died in 2006, she would be 101 this year. 

The Montgomerys left behind a legacy that Felton and her siblings treasure. In fact, she has a trove of artifacts and documents that brings to life the meaning of advocacy and activism.

They were sent to Felton via mail by her sister, Geraldine Montgomery, after the death of their mother. She lives in Chicago and marked the contents in an envelope “Please Handle With Care.”

Forest Montgomery's voting registration
certificate (top image) dated August 1947,
and a receipt dated July 1, 1948, for his
State and County Poll Taxes for 1947.

Rifling through the contents recently took Felton down memory lane. She was astonished to see a minted poll tax receipt that belonged to her father, his war rations book when he served in the army in World War II, and his voter registration certificate dated Aug. 11, 1947. 

 Mr. Montgomery was 46 years old that year. He was labeled as “colored” on the certificate and considered a legal voter in Memphis – nearly 20 years before President Lyndon B. Johnson signed the landmark Voting Rights Act of 1965.

“He was a strong Democrat,” said Felton, a retired public affairs officer for the Internal Revenue Service, who has lived in St. Louis since leaving her hometown of Memphis in 1966. 

Voting during her parents’ era likely was mired in problems, much as it is today. But that didn’t stop them. They pursued the vote. Mr. Montgomery put his vote into action, she used as an example, and supported President Franklin D. Roosevelt.

“He talked about President Roosevelt all the time. He thought Roosevelt really helped Black folks get better jobs and decent places to live,” said Felton, citing The Works Program Administration, Roosevelt’s New Deal to put Americans back to work.

Felton said her father also was a supporter of Adlai Stevenson. He was the former Democratic governor of Illinois who challenged Dwight D. Eisenhower, the GOP pick from Pennsylvania, in both the 1952 and 1956 presidential elections.

She said her mother was just as adamant about voting and participating in the political process as her father. “My mother would have us campaigning,” she said. “When I was 16, I passed out leaflets. My family was engaged in politics because of my mother.”

The Montgomerys were members of the 40th Ward New Chicago Civic Club. They endorsed candidates, held political rallies, voting registration drives, and held their meetings at the Firestone Union Hall, which was later renamed the Matthew R. Davis Resource Center after the Club’s longtime president.

They also belonged to a group called The Willing Workers Club, which Mrs. Montgomery helped to organize. Civic-minded and politically active, they worked for the betterment of their community. 

Mrs. Montgomery took activism to another level in the community. Geraldine Montgomery was an eyewitness andtouted their mother’s community service in a letter she wrote about her in September 2005.

“You have left your children and friends something that cannot be bought, sold, traded, taken or stolen,” the letter began. “What you and our father have given to us, many people wish they could have.” 

What was noticeable in the letter was Mrs. Montgomery’s attendance at Historic Mason Temple, where Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his “Mountaintop” speech. She and a friend, Mary Ella Sawyer, representing The Willing Workers Club, also attended Dr. King’s funeral in Atlanta. 

The letter is laden with a lifetime of Mrs. Montgomery’s work in the community. For example, she immersed herself in the affairs of the NAACP, marched for the right to vote, and registered many people.

Mrs. Montgomery didn’t stop there. She served as an AARP Poll Watcher in the 2000 presidential election. She also traveled with two carloads of people to Washington D.C. to observe a case before the U.S. Supreme Court.

The case involved the removal of a barrier in the street between Jackson and Chelsea. That area was all white, and white people, she wrote, did not want Blacks to crossover or drive through.

Mrs. Montgomery had achieved quite a lot in her lifetime and earned the respect of the political establishment. Her awards and citations are highlighted in the letter, including receiving special congressional recognition, an award from the Memphis City Council, an NAACP Voter Registration Campaign Award, a Resolution from County Councilwoman Hazel M. Erby of St. Louis, and several others.

She also led souls to Christ and, along with her husband, fed the hungry, Geraldine pointed out in the letter. 

Amended law mandates parenting class and video before couples divorce

Charlie Caswell (left), James Kirkwood, Roy Ray, Marie V. Pizano, Dr. Altha
Stewart and Laurie Powell are advocates for children seeking to build stronger
brains for them, create awareness for Adverse Childhood Experiences, and
provide mental health services. (Courtesy photo)

Marie V. Pizano is still feeling a little euphoric after learning that an amendment to a law mandating a parenting class for divorcing couples had recently passed in the Tennessee House of Representatives. 

“I started crying,” said Pizano, an author, film producer, businesswoman and community activist, after receiving the good news via text. 

Pizano had spent the better part of this year drumming up support for what resulted in a bipartisan effort to amend Tennessee Code Annotated, Title 36, Chapter 6. HB 2588 passed 95-0. On the other side, SB 2032 passed 30-0. 

“It’s official,” she said. “Now we’re waiting on the governor’s (Bill Lee) signature.”

The amendment requires that a 30-minute video on Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACEs) be shown to parents attending a parent educational seminar – in addition to them participating in a discussion – before the courts grant a divorce.

ACEs are defined by the Center for Disease Control and Prevention as potentially traumatic events that occur in childhood before the age of 18, such as witnessing violence, abuse, parental mental illness, substance use, divorce, incarceration, and domestic violence.

“In that class, it tells you the rules: [For example], don’t talk bad about the other parent, [or when there’s] harassment. It’s all the do’s and don’ts,” said Pizano, also the founder and CEO of MVP3 Entertainment Group, an artist and talent management firm located in Memphis.

With a full plate of entertainment fare already consuming her attention, Pizano made a decision earlier this year to seek political help for her ambitious goal to quell tensions between divorcing parents and the resulting collateral damage to children.

She personally understands the effects of ACEs after her first marriage went awry and after witnessing other families struggle themselves with emotional turmoil after a tumultuous divorce.

“Something needs to be done about parents who are divorcing,” she said, “because they’re the ones responsible for traumatizing their own children.” 

Pizano said she had listened to the horror stories, cringed because of broken homes, and abhors the use of children as weapons and pawns in the middle of a painful divorce. 

She has spoken about ACEs in her personal and professional lives for years and couldn’t put a name to the problems she had been dealing with. “I lived it myself,” she said. “It’s trauma after divorcing parents.”

Legacy of Legends CDC, a nonprofit in Memphis committed to developing trauma-informed and resilient communities, provides free training for ACEs. Pizano was trained and awarded a certificate. 

According to the CDC in Atlanta, ACEs are common, preventable and costly to families. “There is nothing wrong with educating parents on ACEs,” said Pizano, which prompted her to stump for legislation to improve the quality of life for families impacted by ACEs.

She first met with community stakeholders like the Rev. Charlie Caswell, the executive director of Legacy of Legends CDC and CEO/founder of 3V Leader; the Rev. James Kirkwood, executive director of Memphis Christian Pastors Network; Roy Ray, who works to keep youth out of the juvenile systems in Tennessee and Mississippi; Dr. Altha Stewart, senior associate dean for Community Health Engagement in the College of Medicine at UTHSC; and Laurie Powell, CEO at Alliance Health Services.

Then she turned her attention to the former Shelby County Mayor Mark H. Luttrell Jr. and discussed with him the possibility of getting a bill passed. Luttrell put her in touch with State Rep. Mark White (R-83) from Memphis.

Pizano then went on to lobby State Rep. Mary Littleton (R-78) from Dickson, TN; State Sen. Paul Rose (R-32) from Covington, TN; and State Rep. DeWayne Thompson (D-96) from Cordova, TN.

The language to the law that’s already on the books was subsequently amended and moved judiciously through the legislature. Rep. Littleton sponsored the House bill. Sen. Rose sponsored the Senate version. Dozens of legislators signed on as cosponsors – a bipartisan effort. 

Earlier this month, State Rep. Antonio Parkinson (D-98) of Memphis made a pitch on the House floor to his colleagues on both sides of the aisle and encouraged them to support HB 2588. “It’s a good bill,” he told them. 

Rep. White, Pizano’s initial point of contact in the House, was called to the podium to speak. He first acknowledged Pizano – “my constituent,” he said – who trekked to and fro to Capitol Hill before the advent of Covid-19. 

“Marie Pizano is very passionate about what we’re doing to children in domestic and divorce courts,” White said, “…when the homes break down and there’s a lot of bickering back and forth, these are ACE experiences.” 

He continued: “And these things build up and they have a lasting effect on our children.”

Pizano concurs. But there is more to the problem, she said, than warring parents – attorneys. “They want you to fight. If you fight, they make money. They profit off you.” 

She refers to these attorneys – at least some of them – as “unethical.” “Attorneys need to be trained as well and educated on ACEs,” said Pizano, and added: “They fueled my fire to go create change.”

That fire is still raging within her. “I want to clean up the family law system. I’m not going to give up,” she promised. 

Oldest Living African American Funeral Director Celebrated at 90

Mr. Joseph H. Ivy, seated alongside his wife Margaret Ivy, is the oldest living
African-American funeral director in Tennessee. He is surrounded by well-wishers
who paid tribute to him on his 90th birthday, June 7. (Photos by Wiley Henry)

On Sunday, June 7, a small crowd gathered at the corner of Curry Drive and Hyde Park Street in the Hyde Park community – not to protest man’s inhumanity to man, but to honor a man for his humanity.

This was a special day for Mr. Joseph H. Ivy, his 90th birthday, one that was replete with fanfare and a fleet of limousines and funeral cars from more than 40 funeral homes in Tennessee, Arkansas and Mississippi.

Funeral directors and morticians came together to pay tribute to one of their own, a man with the distinction of being the oldest living African-American funeral director in the state of Tennessee. 

Mr. Ivy has seen a lot of people in his 90 years – including the bevy while serving in the United States Army – but this groundswell was overwhelming from his vantage point under a tent at the corner of Curry, a short distance from his residence on the street.

Friends in the industry called out Mr. Ivy’s name from their funeral cars and esteemed him with their words as they made their way down Curry. He waved in return and said this about the experience: “It’s wonderful. I didn’t expect this attention.”

Funeral directors and morticians from funeral homes in
Tennessee, Mississippi and Arkansas, including several
motorcyclists, pulled up to Mr. Ivy's tent in more than 40
funeral cars and dropped off gifts to show their appreciation.

 

They presented gifts and more to celebrate the beloved funeral director for long life and his contribution to the industry. This was a surprise that the Rev. Quinton Taylor kept secret until this day. 

Mr. Ivy in return marveled at the unsuspecting display of affection. “I’m really surprised,” said Mr. Ivy, not a man of many words on this day. 

Age notwithstanding, Mr. Ivy is admired and respected throughout the funeral service industry all over the country, said Taylor, pastor of Second Baptist Church of Hernando, Miss., and president of Bluff City Funeral Directors & Morticians Association.

Hosted by Bluff City Funeral Directors & Morticians Association and Arkansas State Funeral Directors Association, Taylor thought the fêting of Mr. Ivy on his birthday was timely and the right thing to do for the man he nicknamed “The Godfather” of the funeral industry. 

When Taylor broached the idea of a surprise birthday celebration and a drive-by parade to his “boss” at M.J. Edwards Funeral Home – where Mr. Ivy works on the weekends when needed – he was given the green light to proceed. 

“When I was talking to my boss, he told me, ‘for Mr. Ivy, you won’t get no rejection.’ And everyone that I called to be a part of this, they said ‘[for] Mr. Ivy, we’ll be there,’” said Taylor, whom Mr. Ivy mentored at the onset of his career. 

City Councilman Edmund H. Ford Sr. of E.H. Ford Mortuary Services in Memphis happily answered Taylor’s call. Why? “Mr. Ivy is one of the greatest people in Memphis,” he said. “He’s helped everybody in Memphis.”

Including Ford’s father, the late Newton J. Ford, founder of N.J. Ford and Sons Funeral Home, Inc. “I go way back with Mr. Ivy to the days of my father,” Ford said. “He’s the father of all these funeral homes.”

Mr. Ivy was there when Monroe James Edwards founded M.J. Edwards Funeral Home, Taylor said, and drove the lead hearse in a long procession of white funeral cars after Mr. Edwards was eulogized last year in March.

Sarah Carpenter, a friend and neighbor, spoke fondly of Mr. Ivy. A community activist, she said the funeral director has been nothing but a man of integrity since meeting him 26 years ago. 

He also stepped in when Carpenter needed him the most. “When my mother died last year, Mr. Ivy drove the funeral car all the way to Somerville, Tenn.,” she said. “And he was 89 then.” 

Mr. Ivy started his career in the funeral service industry in 1966 at J.O. Patterson Mortuary. He was licensed in 1973 as a funeral director and managed the mortuary from 1985-2008.

In addition to directing Monroe J. Edwards’s funeral service, Mr. Ivy handled the services of other notables as well, including Bishop J.O. Patterson Sr. in 1989, the first presiding prelate of the Church of God in Christ, Inc.; Bishop J.O. Patterson Jr. in 2011, pastor of Pentecostal Temple Church of God in Christ and former chairman of the COGIC General Board; and Bishop Gilbert E. Patterson in 2007, also the presiding prelate of the Church of God in Christ, Inc.

Wendell Naylor, marketing manager for M.J. Edwards Funeral Home, said Mr. Ivy taught him a lot about the funeral business. And you don’t have to be a notable, he pointed out, for Mr. Ivy to provide quality service.

Naylor, president of Tennessee State Funeral Directors and Morticians Association, reflected on this advice from Mr. Ivy: “When driving a funeral car, he taught me to drive 5 miles below the speed limit – and don’t rush the family.” 

Mr. Ivy is the Association’s sergeant at arms emeritus, Naylor said, a position he’s held since 1979. He also attends meetings regularly, including meetings called by the Bluff City Funeral Directors & Morticians Association.

“He’s just a wonderful man,” Naylor said.

Mr. Ivy has been married to Margaret Ivy for 60 years. They have a son, Mario Ivy Sr.; a grandson, Mario Ivy Jr.; and one great grandson. He is a dedicated member of Smother’s Chapter CME Church in the North Memphis community.

And he’s just as dedicated to the funeral service industry – even at 90.

Nursing home residents treated to a parade of love

A parade of automobiles rolled in and out of Graceland Rehabilitation and Nursing
Center's parking lot in a show of love and appreciation for residents sheltering in
place due to COVID-19. (Photos by Wiley Henry)

After shutting the doors to visitors in mid-March due to COVID-19, the staff at Graceland Rehabilitation and Nursing Center exceeded their goal for residents to see their loved ones.

More than 50 automobiles at one time stretched four city blocks in the Whitehaven community on May 30 between 2 p.m. - 4 p.m. The parade snaked in and out of Graceland’s parking lot in a show of love and appreciation. 

The staff positioned most residents under tents to shade them from the mid-day temperature as horns blared ceremoniously. Some residents waved approval as the parade rolled by them – some carrying balloons, others holding signs with the names of loved ones.

“Today was an opportunity for residents who haven’t had a chance to see their families – going on two months now – to have the face-to-face time,” LaToya Baker, Graceland’s director of Marketing and Public Relations, explained. 

“We saw nationally where other organizations were doing a parade,” said Baker. “We thought that would be a great way to maintain social distancing and encourage a little back and forth with their family.”

This three-wheel car, or trike, was one of more than
50 automobiles on the scene.

Elizabeth Perkins was delighted. She had not seen her sister Dorothy Brown since management shut the doors to keep COVID-19 at bay. She and her husband, Arthur Perkins, pulled into the parking lot with the name DOROTHY BROWN emblazoned on a sign. 

“It brought joy to my heart not only to see my sister, but to see other patients,” she said. “It was nice the way they had it set up. It was more close-and-personal than what I thought.” 

Brown thought the “close-and-personal” parade of automobiles was a good idea. “Some people haven’t seen their folks in a long time,” she responded by phone the next day. “It was good.”

Not all well-wishers expressed love from their automobiles. At least seven of them from Greater Love Miracle Center Church on Vance Avenue stood outside the wrought iron gate singing. Their songs were underscored with messages of love.

“We’re here doing our duty as Christians…encouraging these patients and the people that are working here…letting them know somebody cares, somebody loves them,” said Vernita Westbrook, who co-pastors the church with her husband, the Rev. Dennis Westbrook.  

“This is our duty to visit those who need us,” she said. “We have a group of people here just to encourage them.” 

Two sisters and a niece and nephew were encouraged. They came to lay eyes on Daisy Pettis, if only for a moment.

“I really miss coming to see my sister every week like I normally would do,” said Maria Lee, but then added, “This works for me.”

 Another sister, Mary Watson, chimed in. “I usually come every Wednesday. Since this (pandemic) has been going on, I can’t come and can’t call. [But] I’m glad the day was a good opportunity for me to see her.” 

Watson was happy to know that Daisy Pettis, a resident of two years, was looking good.

LaToya Lee, whose mother is Maria Lee, is the niece of Watson and Pettis. She noticed something about her aunt. “When we did drive by, I saw my aunt shed a few tears,” she said. “It lets me know that she misses us as much as we miss her.”

She added that the “drive by” had really shown her that people really care about their loved ones instead of just dropping them off and not coming back to see them.

Tommie Lee Jr., LaToya Lee’s brother, expressed a little sadness, though. He said the experience touched him. “But it’s kind of sad that you can’t sit with her, speak to her, or pick her up.” 

The residents at Graceland are faring well considering COVID-19’s onslaught on nursing homes around the country and in Memphis and Shelby County. However, Baker said there hasn’t been an outbreak among the 155 residents at the 200-bed facility.

At least 70 residents participated, she said.

While COVID-19 is ravaging nursing homes, the most vulnerable population, Baker said Graceland is following the Center for Disease Control and Prevention protocols to ensure the safety of residents and workers.

According to the Shelby County Health Department’s latest figures, there are 4,581 cases of COVID-19 in Shelby County, and that number includes 102 deaths. At least one-third of those deaths were nursing home residents and workers.

Has there been any residents infected with COVID-19 at Graceland?

“We’ve had people that we suspected; and when we did, we tested them,” said Baker. “But we’ve been very fortunate that we don’t have any confirmed cases of COVID-19 at the facility.” 

The residents’ temperatures are checked periodically and sporadically throughout the day, Baker said. Also, the staff wears masks, including the residents when they’re not in their rooms.

Although the residents have been confined to the facility with little interaction with their families, Baker said they may plan another parade to connect residents with families before it gets excruciatingly hot.

Business owner brings Class of 2020 together using social media

The coronavirus, which causes COVID-19, has spread rapidly throughout every nook and cranny around the world. It has disrupted life as we knew it and, in Memphis, the rite of passage for high school graduates.

Eighteen-year-old Brienna Cooper finished her senior year at Southwind High School with a 3.8 GPA. But she was quite upset when the senior class was informed that all senior activities had ceased rather than risk the spread of COVID-19.

Brienna Cooper

“The only thing we got a chance to do was have our senior breakfast, and after that, it was nothing,” said Brienna Cooper, who was scheduled to graduate May 23 at FedEx Forum in Memphis. 

Graduation, however, hasn’t been a total bust for the Class of 2020. Telisa Franklin, owner of Flowers and More and other businesses, created a page on Facebook called “Memphis Class of 2020.” 

The page is a collection of stories and senior photos celebrating the accomplishments of graduating seniors from Shelby County Schools. Over a thousand members – students, parents and well-wishers – have joined the page. 

“There are a lot of underprivileged schools,” Franklin surmised. “There are only stories of the valedictorian and the salutatorian. On this page, the students are all in this together.”  

Franklin’s own son, 13-year-old Charles Edward Earl, was the source of inspiration that compelled her to honor graduating seniors. He had finished eighth grade at Elmore Park Middle School, but he, too, would not experience graduation before moving on to ninth grade at Bartlett Academy.

Joshua Franklin

“I woke up one Friday morning when Charles was passing to the ninth grade and realized that the school would not be holding graduation,” Franklin said. “So, if I’m missing out on his graduation to high school, I know others feel the same way.” 

Debra and Alan Cooper certainly felt that way. But COVID-19 dashed their hopes of celebrating Brienna’s achievements and her rite of passage from high school to Middle Tennessee State University to study nursing.

“I was upset about it, because she worked hard,” said Debra Cooper, a nursing assistant and mother of two other children as well. That pivotal moment for Brienna Cooper would have to wait for now. 

Belinda and Joe Franklin were disappointed. Their only child, Joshua Franklin, will not be walking across the stage just yet to accept his diploma from G.W. Carver College and Career Academy. 

A registered nurse, Belinda Franklin had talked to her son about graduation and the pandemic that brought everything to a screeching halt. Then she concluded the school was right for shutting down. 

“For the sake of everybody, I understood,” she said. 

“At first when this happened, I was sad. I know I did everything I could. I put my best foot forward,” said Joshua Franklin, a biochemistry major with a 4.0 GPA. Then he added: “We never had our senior trip or prom.” 

Joshua Franklin will be heading to Tennessee State University in the fall. But he is unsure if the university will return to normal just in case he has to stay on campus or if he would have to take virtual classes.

Whatever happens, COVID-19 won’t stop Joshua Franklin from pursuing a career in science. “Biochemistry is so broad,” he said. “So I would like to become a pathologist or a toxicologist.”

Shelby County Schools, which is home to over 100,000 students in more than 200 schools, has contingency plans to hold traditional graduation ceremonies in July, which is tentatively set between July 13-26. 

Of course, the District will abide by city or state health and safety regulations to ensure the safety of graduates. If this doesn’t work, SCS will have a backup plan to conduct virtual graduating ceremonies.  

Until then, Franklin will continue to host the “Memphis Class of 2020.” 

“She did more than the schools when they closed,” Debra Cooper said of Franklin. “It is such a good idea.”