I hope you will forgive me for posting this here also.

There was this fella from Battle Creek, Michigan. His name was Joe Crump. Joe was a black man, an African American. He was a big man, with a bigger smile, and a much bigger heart. We became friends over 30 years ago. I remember my Father, a victim of the times he was raised in, asking me once why I considered Joe my best friend. I told Da that Joe and I loved each other as brothers, that we watched out for each others backside. My father had a hard time with this. I told Joe that I was so disappointed in my father. He got angry at me, and told me that my Dad was a good man with the prejudices of his times. He told me that my Dad raised me, and I was his best friend. And then Joe let his big smile and bigger heart win my Dad over. When Joe died 2 years ago, my Mom and Dad were in the front row at the funeral and wept openly at the loss of a man they loved like one of their own.

My youngest child, Ciara, was born in 1982. I asked my best friend, Joe, to be her Godfather. Joe was absolutely overjoyed to do it, and from the first moment he loved that little girl. Every where he went brought her postcards, and Uncle Joe travelled a lot. She loved getting them. Every birthday brought a savings bond, and gifts of candy, with the admonishment "don't tell your Mom I gave you this box of candy bars". But Uncle Joe looked so different from the other folks around her, that the little girl just couldn't give her Uncle Joe a hug. I remember being embarassed about that, and my best friend just looked at me like I had a tail, and informed me that "of course she is afraid. Look at me!". But then he admonished me to just cool it. And he let that big smile, and that big heart patiently do is work. One night, when Ciara was 6 years old, Joe and his lady friend, my wife, and Ciara were at a play. Joe's lady friend's daughter was in the high school play. After the play, we all decided to go for pizza. It was dark outside, and as we all walked to our cars, Ciara stopped me, let out a big sigh, and told me she wanted to ride with Uncle Joe. It was clear that this little girl recognized the love Uncle Joe had for her, and was going to overcome her fear of his different looks. Well, Joe puffed up like a biskit with butter in it and put the wee little girl in his car. Took them a half hour to drive the 5 minutes to the pizza parlor. They were inseparable to the day he died, and Ciara still thinks of him every single day.

Joe taught me about prejudice. Joe taught us all about judging people by the content of their character. Joe taught us about pure, unadulterated love of your fellow man. He never judged folks for their racism, just vowed to beat it by his examples of love and service. Joe served on prestigious boards, and worked in the neighborhoods that spawned him. Joe knew Governors and Presidents, and revelled in delivering food baskets in his old neighborhoods. Joe spoke at conventions, but did his best work one on one.

Joe lived his whole life with integrity, and honest love of fellow man, even as he suffered the outrageous slings and arrows of racism. He forgave those whose racism came from the times they were raised in, but was a fierce warrior in the battle against those who used law to further their bigotry.

I would give anything to look in his eyes tonight and ask him, "Did you ever think, my beloved brother, that you would see this day?" I am sitting here with tears running down my face, at times sobbing, because I wish I could put my arm around my best friends shoulder and tell him that Obama's victory was his victory. I wish I could say to him, and to all the folks that never got the headlines, that I understand that it was by their walking through a world that enslaved them, killed them, economically strangled them,....... and yet they walked with grace, and at this moment, forgives us all. I listened to the gracious concession speech by McCain, and heard a significant part of the crowd try to boo when they heard the name of Obama. Then I watched the crowd in Grant Park, and I saw tears. I listened to a black preacher on the telly speak with forgiveness, and reach out to the other side.

Thanks, Joe. I will love you until the day I draw my last breath on this side. Then we will meet and start to tell jokes and make folks laugh. I wish you could be here so I could thank you, and help you understand, just as you helped me to understand. I would help you understand that by your presence, grace, integrity, honesty, and love of your fellow men, women and children, you paved the way for this moment.

All the best,

Mick