The Rev. Jesse Louis Jackson Sr. was living history. His voice, his presence and his persistence were forged in the heat of America's unfinished struggle with historic inequities.

Long before I ever covered him as a reporter, the Rev. Jesse Louis Jackson Sr., whose death at age 84 was announced Feb. 17, was already a giant in my world.

My first memory of him was on my grandmother’s black-and-white television, his voice compelling, his cadence commanding: “I am – somebody! I am – somebody!” He was a warrior for justice – fearless, strong, charismatic – and one of the last living links to the Civil Rights Movement that transformed a nation.

Jackson was living history. He was right below that motel balcony in Memphis, Tennessee, the night Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated April 4, 1968, an eyewitness to a tragedy that seared the nation and shaped his life’s mission. His voice, his presence and his persistence were forged in the heat of America’s unfinished struggle with historic inequities.

The Rev. Jesse Jackson believed that power must answer to those it ignored

I first covered him during his inspiring but ultimately unsuccessful 1988 presidential campaign for the Democratic nomination. While the nomination went to Massachusetts Gov. Michael Dukakis, Jackson’s run advanced the cause of inclusion and power for Black Americans.

He founded the Rainbow PUSH Coalition in 1971 and championed an integrated vision of America under a banner of shared purpose. That year, I introduced myself and my newspaper, the Arkansas Gazette, which had won two Pulitzer Prizes for its civil rights coverage.

With a proud smile, he said, “Arkansas Gazette!” That moment still says something about where he saw himself and how he recognized allies in the fight – and perhaps seeing this rare, young reporter of color working in that legendary newsroom.

Years later, when he appeared alone before the editorial board of the Cincinnati Enquirer, sitting directly across from me, he was in town pressing Kroger Co. over its diversity policies. I wrote a column praising his passion – but not agreeing with his tactic. Whether you agreed with him or not, you knew he believed power must answer to those it served, especially those it ignored.

No assessment of Jackson’s life is complete without acknowledging his faults. He stumbled publicly. There was an extramarital affair that produced a child. A derogatory reference to Jews in New York. Accusations that he sought personal gain through economic boycotts of discriminatory big business. He met with Cuban President Fidel Castro and negotiated the release of U.S. Navy Lt. Robert Goodman from Syria, where he had been held for 30 days after his plane was shot down over Lebanon.

He was also the best orator I have ever heard and was not afraid to let his hair down. He exhibited splendid comedic timing as the host of "Saturday Night Live" after his 1984 presidential campaign. In a 1991 cameo appearance, he read “Green Eggs and Ham,” one of the best TV moments in history. They should be part of the historical record because Jackson believed in telling the truth, even when it was inconvenient.

Now – on the day we lost him – something matters even more: His legacy outlasts any shortcomings.

America can live up to its promise. Honor Jackson by doing the work to get there.

At a time when the president openly attacks civil rights protections, demeans people of color and seeks to reverse decades of progress, Jackson’s work feels freshly urgent. The justice he preached isn’t an artifact; it is a job unfinished. The people he fought for still need a beacon of light.

How do we honor a man like Jackson?

Not with sainthood. He never asked for that.

Not with silence, either. He deserves better than to fade quietly.

We honor him by doing the work:

• Vote in every election – local and national.


• Defend the rights of those whose voices are ignored.


• Teach our children the history he lived.


• Demand accountability from institutions still struggling with diversity and equity.


• Keep hope alive, not as a slogan but as a discipline.

Jackson spent his life bending this country toward justice. Today, that responsibility shifts to us. The movement doesn’t end because one of its champions has taken his rest. It continues in every act of courage, every refusal to accept discrimination as normal, every insistence that America live up to the promise it makes.