May 4, 1969 - A Day of Infamy

May 4, 1969 – A day which will live in infamy. As long as I have a mind to think with, a mouth to speak, and breath in my lungs, I will declare the praises of my father, Azell Leroy Harris. He literally gave his all. Not just that day when he gave the ultimate sacrifice in performance of his duty as a Birmingham Police office. He gave his all every day: loving and caring for his family, serving the widows in the community by performing minor repairs and such, mentoring young boys through the Cub Scout program, mentoring young men through Boy Scouts, serving his congregation as a deacon in the Baptist church, serving his country through the army reserves, and probably a few more that I never even knew about.

Fifty-five years ago. I was only nine at the time. I have a few memories of my father, but I have learned so much about him through others I’ve had the opportunity to speak with as I got older. Every person describes him using almost the same words. Kind, gentle, loving, giving. Even though he was not a man of letters, I read for the first time a letter he wrote to his mother while he was serving in the army. Seeing those words on the page was very surreal. It made me wish even more that he had been given to writing or journaling. I would have cherished every word.

Having made it to 64, I have beaten the odds of my family heritage. Only one generation of Harrises out of the past five made it beyond 52. I never met any of my father’s lineage. I’m very grateful to have all of my siblings still living. We have made a commitment to gather more frequently. I hope we can.

I encourage you to take time today to call your parents if they are still living. Better yet, go see them. If they are no longer living, then consider writing them letters to express your feelings for them. Even though they will never see it, you will. And your family if you have any left. Even if the relationship was strained, or even hostile, write something anyway. Find a way to see the good. You may not know all they were dealing with, or what their history looked like. Maybe through your words, you can begin a new trajectory for your family to live from going forward. It’s said that words are cheap, but after you are gone, only the words you chose to record will be heard.