Headline: HARRISON
HELPED OTHERS OUT, UP
Reporter: By Gregory Freeman
Publication: ST.
LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
Last Printed: Tues., June 21, 1994
Section: WAR PAGE, Page: 11B, Edition: FIVE STAR
IF THERE were
ever a person for whom the phrase "walk your talk" was made, it was
Bill Harrison.
Harrison,
who died Thursday of a heart attack while exercising, walked his talk constantly.
As associate dean of academic support and continuing education
at St. Louis Community College at Forest Park, Harrison could easily have sat
back, enjoyed a comfortable life and said, "I got mine, you get yours."
But
he wouldn't have been Bill Harrison if he said that.
His
message was more like: "I got mine; now let me help you get yours."
I remember Harrison telling me about meetings that he and his wife, Dorothy, would have in their West End living room in the 1960s on major civil rights issues here. Strategy would be hatched, as some of the city's top black leaders discussed issues as varied as racial discrimination at Jefferson Bank to how to elect a black congressman from St. Louis.
Always modest,
Harrison never sought headlines for himself. When the news media would occasionally
try to focus the spotlight on him, he would deflect it.
One
favorite area of deflection was one in which he spent countless hours. Harrison
strongly believed that black men have a responsibility to work with young black
males. Because so many black households, particularly poorer households, have
no father figure, Harrison felt it was important to work with young men to keep
them from going astray.
And
here was where he really walked his talk.
He founded and
directed St. Paul Saturdays, a program through St. Paul African Methodist Episcopal
Church, designed to help young men gain self-esteem and strong academic skills.
The nationally recognized club for boys meets on Saturday mornings.
He
believed in exposing his young charges to the world, to let them know that there
was so much more to the world than their own neighborhoods.
I often bumped into Harrison at educational programs, dinners,
black history events and other activities. There he'd be, along with several
of the young men with whom he worked. The world can offer you so much, went
his message, if you get a good education and go after it.
An important aspect
of the program, he once told me, was high expectations of all of the young men
who participated. Young black males are inundated with bad news about themselves,
he said, and society as a whole has low expectations of them. "Kids live
up to the level of what we expect of them, " he said. "If we don't
expect much, they don't do much."
Harrison
had high expectations of his charges. Boys were expected to sign a pledge agreeing
to earn everything they got and to beg for nothing. If they were old enough
to vote, they were expected to register. High school students were expected
to maintain at least a "B" average - and to graduate.
At 6 feet 6 inches, Harrison's height could have easily intimidated many of his boys. But Harrison didn't work that way. He commanded respect not with his physical appearance but with his ability to make people think.
Keith Turner,
a senior studying urban planning at Morehouse College, joined the club when
he was 8 and continues to work with it today.
"Dr.
Harrison influenced me and many young men with his character, " said Turner,
20. "He believed in teaching by example. And he had such a wealth of knowledge.
There was nothing you could ask him that he didn't know something about."
Now
that he's older, Turner says he will continue working with the club, mentoring
those younger than he. "You never really leave, unless you want to, "
he said. "Like Dr. Harrison, you keep helping other people until you die."
Meanwhile, St. Paul Saturdays will continue, vowed Keith Willis, a KATZ radio personality and one of the program's coordinators. "We'll continue to do things as we did when he was alive, " Willis said. "This was his baby, and we're going to maintain things just as he would have wanted. We're going forward."
How many people
- even the most diligent volunteers - are willing to spend every Saturday of
their lives, and other times too, to help other people's kids?
Not
many, but that was one thing that made Harrison special. He carried with him
an intense sense of responsibility.
Perhaps
the greatest tribute to Harrison would be to dedicate ourselves to the standards
that he set for himself.
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