When Sam Jones, president and CEO of the Indianapolis Urban League, received an honorary doctor of humane letters degree from IU a couple of years back, Chancellor Gerald Bepko introduced him by saying, "In Indianapolis, you would be hard-pressed to find someone who does not know of Sam’s work or has not benefited in some way from his engagement with community issues or organizations."
When Sam Jones, president and CEO of the Indianapolis Urban League, received an honorary doctor of humane letters degree from IU a couple of years back, Chancellor Gerald Bepko introduced him by saying, "In Indianapolis, you would be hard-pressed to find someone who does not know of Sam’s work or has not benefited in some way from his engagement with community issues or organizations."
When Sam died last week after a three-year bout with leukemia, there were many stories about his thirty years at the Urban League, many quotes from community figures to the effect that, as one put it, “there was only one Sam Jones.” What those stories failed to convey adequately was the sense of personal loss so many of us felt upon his passing.
I worked with Sam in a variety of capacities during much of his thirty-year stint at the Urban League. We used to joke that we had grown old together serving on volunteer committees. Some of those committees addressed issues of civil rights and civil liberties, others dealt with race relations, poverty, governance issues—the full gamut of citizenship undertakings. Throughout the years, even in the face of bigotry and discrimination, Sam’s influence was steady, his voice reasonable, his opinion balanced. I think that what I admired most about Sam was his ability to see the other side, his patience, and his incredible sense of fair play.
Advocacy can easily make one shrill or rigid. Sam never fell into that trap. In fact, despite his own experiences growing up in the South, despite setbacks during his years at the Urban League, he never conducted himself as only a black man—he conducted himself, and considered himself, a member of the wider community. His goal was a world in which everyone, white or brown or black, Christian, Jewish or Muslim, gay or straight, would be an equally valued member of that wider community. He never played “identity politics,” and never forgot that rights are indivisible. He knew that if any group is unequal, we are all unequal, and that conviction made him a strong supporter of civil liberties.
Sam knew that getting rid of bad laws isn’t enough to make people equal. They need access to a good education and adequate health care and jobs. Under his leadership, the Urban League worked at all of that, and more. Sam was everywhere, and if sometimes his friends told him that he was spreading himself too thin, trying to do too much, he would nod in agreement and keep on doing it. He knew (and we did too) that despite our advice, he would be the first person we’d enlist when a new problem arose.
Sam Jones was just a very good man. He loved his wife and kids, he cared deeply about the people who depended on his leadership, and he was devoted to his community. Indianapolis is poorer for his absence, and so are those of us who were fortunate enough to consider ourselves his friends.
A jaundiced look at the world we live in.