James "Jamie" Cress Willeford III, 53, died in Durham, NC, on Tuesday, February 21, 2012.
Friends are invited to share messages and memories for his family by clicking on "comments" below.
An account has been set up to assist the family with expenses. If you wish to contribute, please make checks payable to Carol McRae and mail them to Wells Fargo Bank, ATTN: Juanita Mercado, 900 W Club Blvd, Durham, NC 27701.
Jamie was born October 10, 1958, in Cabarrus County, NC, to Mr. and Mrs. James Cress Willeford Jr. As a therapist he dedicated his life to helping others, especially children. Jamie loved to read and write, and had a passion for photography and the outdoors. He was kind, compassionate, and a loving father. Jamie is survived by three sons, two sisters, two nieces, two nephews, and a grandson.
Our hearts go out to Carol and LJ and Evan and Tanner and Sarah and Ian.
ReplyDeleteWe are so sorry for your loss and we are holding you all in our thoughts and sending healing energy your way.
Love,
Bernadette and Linden and Jada
Jamie was the first person we met on Lynch Street, before we moved onto the block. We parked behind his big blue truck (with one of the characteristic homemade 8.5x11 signs in the rear view window that made us think, "hooray, liberals live here!"), and he came up to chat. He made us feel welcome. And he assured us we'd be OK as "cat people" living on a block full of "dog people."
ReplyDeleteTanner, Evan, and LJ--every time your dad mentioned you, we could hear the pride in his voice. He was a fixture on Lynch Street, and we'll miss him.
Our thoughts are with you, Carol, Ian, and the rest of your family during this difficult time.
--Liz & Stefan
Jamie had a sweet smile and a kind heart. I have many fond memories of his kindness and great talks and good laughs in the neighborhood, at ye old food co-op and countless times when I was outside my house up the street when he would pull over in the volvo and stop to chat and ask me how things were going. He was a real caring person. Jamie's passion for social justice, and for his boys was inspiring!
ReplyDeleteJamie, I miss you, dude!
My deepest thoughts, prayers, and sympathies to the boys and Carol and whole family. He was a good man.
Love,
Juliet
Jamie was very very loved by his grandson Ian. One of the main things Jamie and Ian liked to do together was to get muffins. They would go to The Mad Hatter and hang out and eat yummy treats, and as Ian put it "talk with Gramps's lots of friends." These trips meant a whole lot to Ian. He woke up this morning crying, and when I asked him what was wrong he said that he was sad because he would never be able to eat a muffin with Gramps again. I then suggested that the two of us go to get some muffins. He liked the idea, but when I told him I thought we would go to whole foods, he told me that would not do. Gramps always brought him to The Mad Hatter, and got him a hot chocolate too. The big one. So that's what we did. We got seven muffins, one for each of the family members. Then we drove to Jamie's house, and Ian lovingly put his muffin on Jamie's porch step. He sat down next to it, and cried for a minute. He asked me about the beautiful flowers on the stairs and I told him that people who loved him left him those. Some people leave flowers, and some muffins.
ReplyDeleteThank you Jamie for loving our Ian. We love you.
In my years in Durham, Jamie was part of my possee and I consider him a brother. He was such a generous, soulful being, someone with a true love of connecting and conversing in an era of speed and superficiality. He had the analytical mind of a Noam Chomsky-reading revolutionary, a heart vast like the sea, that characteristic Jamie twinkle in his eye and a deep searching for the way to freedom that lead him not just to his leftist convictions but also to psychology.
ReplyDeleteLinder, Evan and Tanner were his pride and joy. I remember when we went to Cuba, Carol had him tape record himself reading bedtime stories to them for the week that he was apart from them.
Jamie had his own speed and his own way and Life seemed to shine a special star on him. I remember one evening he got the notion to call his friend Gil in San Francisco. Unbeknownst to Jamie, it was exactly one minute after the big earthquake. The rest of the night, hundreds of thousands of worried family members would try unsuccessfully to contact their loved ones in San Francisco, but Jamie, without even trying, unwittingly waltzed in before the telecommunications went into a tangle. I love that Jamie story because for me it typifies something wonderful about his slowed down way of moving through life with heart and intuition and the amazing results that produced.
My photos from my North Carolina years are not with me here in England. If people have photos they would be willing to post, I’d be grateful.
Carol, Linder, Evan, Tanner, Sara and Ian, my love and prayers to you across the miles
Rebecca
I met Jamie at the old Food Coop and only learned later that he lived right around the corner. He really enjoyed working at the Coop and made shopping there fun. He made funny signs, joked around with everybody that came in, and treated my little kids (big kids now) like real people and was really interested in what they had to say. I never saw him get mad at anybody (and the Coop provided plenty of chances!). In years to come, when us geezers reminisce about the old Coop and its hippie glory, I will always think of Jamie as among the people who worked there who best embodied its open, free, and tolerant spirit. That is one of the things that makes this so horribly sad and hard to understand.
ReplyDeleteJoking around with him at the Coop you would never know he was a serious professional too. (I learned that later too.) He did not push that or brag about his work. That kind of humility is great.
My heart goes out to Linder and Ian and the family. May the love and joy that characterized Jamie at his best, which are an extension of God's love, sustain and support you.
Dan Read
Hugs and Love to Carol, Linder, Evan, Tanner, Sara and Ian.
ReplyDeleteI first met Jamie at the old/old Durham Food Co-op on Broad Street (sound familiar?). I had just gotten back from Nicaragua and was so impressed at his and Carol's naming of Linder. We quickly began to discuss Noam Chomsky's "Manufacturing Dissent" - he knew much while I knew little.
Whenever I saw him, he always greeted me with a friendly smile. He was always full of love and positive energy, which we all needed during so many political discussions with various groups we were involved with.
We got to know each other better on our 1990 trip to Cuba with the Venceremos Brigade and our work with CIEC. As I poured through my old photo albums with my kids this morning, I was sad that I didn't have more pictures of him, but he was usually behind the camera.
I am stunned and saddened by your passing, Jamie, but I am so glad you were a light in my Durham life.
Presente!
I have posted photos on my facebook page (Jen Schradie) or you can try to link here: https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.355882087766593.80985.100000344130355&type=3&l=38d6ae262b
Feel to friend me if you can't see them (or even if you can!)
xo,
Jen Schradie
My deepest sympathies to Family and Friends,
ReplyDeleteI just received the shocking and sad news of Jamie's passing.
I have nothing but warm memories of seeing him and chatting with
him whenever I had the chance during my many years in Durham.
I always wanted to know Jamie better, because he was a cool guy,
smart, compassionate, incredibly warm, with a great personality.
I remember having had some nice long conversations with him not
long before I left Durham in 2005, as if we both knew they were
overdue between us.
Yes, I too can relate to his politics and his experiences with the revolutions in Latin America, and it makes me just that much sadder that someone of his spirit, energy and knowledge is no longer with us to fight the good fight adelante.
Love to all his family and friends,
Kevin Kresse
Buffalo, NY
mayanworlds@yahoo.com
Dear Carol, Linder, Evan, Tanner, Ssra, Ian, and Friends,
ReplyDeleteJamie and Carol were two of the first people I met when I moved to Durham in 1992. I remember loving both of them immediately, and that has never changed. A couple of years later I moved into the little tin roofed house on Terry Road after the Willeford - McCraes moved back into Durham, so I breathed the air that you all breathed in, and loved that little house and the woods and fields around it as you did. Living in that house was for me quite a bit like camping. No insulation, a wood stove, animals regularly coming into the house, such as bats, mice, a black snake, and often, slugs on the bathtub rim. I remember being happy for company when these animals appeared, and I would chat with them, including the slugs. It was my very favorite place I have ever lived, and I never would have moved out had not the house owner needed me to. I wept for weeks when I had to leave. One story I remember Jamie telling me about his time there shines a light on what living in that house was like. He said that it was a winter's evening, and the family, which at that point I think included Carol, Linder and Evan, were all in the small living room. I imagine toys on the floor and the boys rolling around or crawling around and everyone happily hanging out. It was pretty cold outside, and the wood stove was cranking. Jamie looked over towards the front door, and noticed that a little pile of snow was building up INSIDE the door, where it was blowing in through the considerable gap between the bottom of the door and the door sill. What struck him suddenly was that this pile of snow was not melting. And as he watched, the pile of snow grew, and continued to not melt. That's how cold the floor was. It was a moment that he didn't forget, and perhaps had something to do with the decision to move into town, I don't know. But Jamie told me that story with the warmth and wry humor that was his way. I have not been in regular touch with all of you in these past years, but you are always in my heart, and I think of you with great affection often. My heart is full of sadness and also of much gratitude for having known Jamie. And I send you much love in this time and always. Kathleen Hannan
Even though I didn't know Jamie really well, we interacted a lot over the span of 21 years. We shared a lot of the same political beliefs and ideals, including our concern about Central America. He was a compañero.
ReplyDeleteWhen I decided to finish the requirements so that I could become a Licensed Professional Counselor, I chose Jamie to supervise the necessary clinical hours. What I remember most was his emphasis on fostering "pro-social" behavior by children or adolescents as well as his kindness and generosity.
When I decided to open part-time private practice, I arranged to use an office in the same Broad Street building where Jamie met with me and some of his clients. We continued to talk sporadically by phone...it seems like I saw him come to the office less and less.
Frank Overton, our landlord and fellow-therapist, sent an email with the terrible news. We are concerned that Jamie might have had some clients, adult or child, whose cases were not closed and who need continued therapy and/or need grief counseling to deal with this horrendous loss. Frank has contacted the counseling board and we will do our best to protect confidentiality as well as serve the needs of Jamie's clients through appropriate referral.
If any of Jamie's clients need assistance and happen to read this, they are welcome to reach me at 919-381-8320 and I will try to connect you with suitable services. Of course, in an emergency situation, you should call 911 or, if just urgent, call 560-7100 to reach the Durham Center or Durham Center Access.
My gratitude to you, Jamie, for who you are.
David Kirsh
I met Jamie and Carol in the first few days of moving to Durham. That was in 1989 and the co-op was on Broad Street and the people involved in the co-op pretty quickly became my extended family. I was so in love w/ Jamie and Carol's peaceful, loving way of parenting. I remember over the years wanting to be near them and their beautiful little boys, hoping that those parenting skills would rub off on me.
ReplyDeleteI, like Jamie, spent a good amount of time in the co-op on W Chapel Hill St in the 90's. Jamie was the produce guy and he was an enthusiastic greeter of people who'd come in. I always suspected that many of the people came in more to share a thought or story with Jamie, than to buy food. What a wealth of information he was-- about the food he was working with, about the farmers that grew the food and yes, about the political climate surrounding the social injustices of growing the food. And he shared his knowledge willingly and equally with all people. Jamie and Carol lived out in the country and we attended meetings of the local brewers club at their place. Their home was an amazingly magical place. I remember when they moved into town, thinking they'd sadly have to make big adjustments to live in such close proximity to others. From what friends and neighbors of Jamie shared at the memorial yesterday, I guess maybe Jamie didn't make many adjustments after all! Jamie was so genuinely himself all the time.
When we bought a house in Durham (1995) I remember being so happy when I realized that Jamie and Carol lived nearby. In chance encounters with Jamie in the neighborhood, he always had a smile and a friendly word before he'd patiently explain to me that this or that issue of political nature needed my help. Jamie, you were a tireless inspiration to so many. I am sad that you had to leave so young. You were loved and you are missed.
Pam
not needing to know that it was possible.
ReplyDeletenot needing to be reasonable.
not needing to be serious.
jamie affirmed me, in all of my imperfections, and in all of my wild dreams for a better way of life, without making me prove that my dreams were possible, and allowing me to be playful, at the same time. my eighteen year old anarchist declarations were outlandish at times, often arrogant, and sometimes quite caustically stated, but jamie never shamed me for any of this; he never flinched. jamie was wild at heart, in love with the reckless freedom that children yearn for, that children offer as a gift to the restrained and repressed world of adults. both the experiments of his boys (which required them to blow things up in the backyard) and proposals to radically restructure our society were met with the same tender and fiery enthusiasm.
not needing to be less than my best.
not needing to hide my worst.
jamie allowed me to be myself. period. always. absolutely. in spite of everything. he had that rare ability to love with deep empathy, regardless of the differences in age and circumstance. jamie treated me with the steady, unconditional respect that is offered to peers, and listened to me carefully, and patiently. but still he offered the kind support and guidance that can only come from an elder. in his role of father, jamie had learned how to balance giving absolute validation & autonomy, with being strong and protective. he taught me how to drive, as any father would teach their son, and still was able to rant together with me about this filthy fascist society that we've got to fight against endlessly.
jamie's house was always open to me, in all the years i knew him, no matter what the circumstances. i remember showing up often without calling in advance, and being greeted warmly always. i brought various friends with me (one even moved in with the willefords for a few months) and shared both my passions and my struggles with jamie, and with carol. i played for many, many hours with the boys, shared dozens of meals, worked together on various political projects, and also shared a space of mutual emotional support.
thinking back now, to moments over a decade ago, what strikes me most is the way that my time shared with the willefords was so real, so much more fully human than the majority of the relationships that are possible in this society. when there were struggles in the family, inter-personal conflicts or other difficulties, i wasn't sent away. i was invited to be a genuine part of their lives. and if i was feeling badly, i had no reason to hide this from jamie and carol. their generosity and love was total.
jamie taught me to be confident in myself, to accept and thrive within my passion, my rage, and my compassion. he affirmed and encouraged my longing for revolution, and helped me see that revolutions are made by imperfect people, under much less than ideal circumstances. he inspired me to seek out a path of radicalism that is livable, day by day...
even if the end goal is utopia...
with love always,
billy
Linder and Autumn wearing infant tees protesting the CIA, moon phases in the grass, building the new co-op, stocking the old, passionate conversations, flying burrito, star gazing, brewing, cooking, birthday parties, rainy singing in a barn in Maryland, laughter, community, and love. I so wanted to see you again dear friend.
ReplyDeleteThank you all for sharing your memories. It is good to see your names and hear your stories and remember.
Much love to you,
Patricia Grace
This breaks my heart Sara, all over again. Thank you for sharing. You are doing a good job of letting Ian work through his grief.
ReplyDeleteJamie's been a close friend for many years. I have so many fond memories of time spent over the years with Jamie, Carol and the kids.
ReplyDeleteI have especially fond memories of the times Jamie and the boys would come out to my place to fish in a little pond for bass and bluegills. We would talk about everything from politics to nature or exchange funny stories and have a great time regardless of whether or not the fish were biting.
I loved Jamie's exuberance for life, his passion for a just world and his sense of humor.
There are those close friends whom you hope and like to assume will be there till the end of your own life, those close friends you expect to grow old with. Jamie was that kind of friend for me.
I'm so sorry to have missed the Memorial Service. I'm on an out of state trip right now and didn't learn of this tragedy till Saturday. Many of you I haven't seen in years. My best wishes to all of you as we remember Jamie.
To Carol, Linder, Evan and Tanner and Sarah and Ian, my heart goes out to you.
Jamie, I'm going to miss you man, you were a true friend
Deck
My husband and I met Jamie and the fam in 2004 when we first moved onto Lynch st, and we've considered him a fixture in the scenery that is our block ever since.
ReplyDelete4 years ago, Jamie watched election returns with us, elated as a black man unbelievably won the presidency. pleasant evenings often had us all sitting outside talking for hours about any and everything. As the Summer approaches, we had been looking forward to constant porch gatherings that would inevitably involve Jamie. We're also looking forward to the birth of our first child, and we knew he'd be all about that too...loving family as he did.
We simply cannot fathom that warm evenings will visit us this year, and Jamie will not be popping up on our porch with a glass in hand to sit and visit. We will miss you Jamie, the scenery of our day to day lives just wont be the same again.
Vera Reina & Sean Murphy
I met Jamie very recently, on his birthday last year in fact.... In the months we spent together we spent a lot of time together. One of the things that always would shine through was his love and pride in his "4 boys" as he always considered Ian one of them. I always knew when one of the boys had called or he had seen them because he would call me right afterwards and would talk about it for days. You were the major joy in his life at the end and I know that if he could have seen any other way he would have taken it as I KNOW how much he wanted to see them to continue to grow up...
ReplyDeleteTanner, you were his music
Evan, he saw him in you
LJ, he was so proud of you for accomplishing what you have
Ian, you were his little man
Never ever think that he didn't love you. He did with all his heart, and you know what Jamie's heart was like... He was full of compassion and joy and to be loved by Jamie is a gift indeed...
Dear Jamie,
ReplyDeleteI remember way back to the days before Lynch Street, when you and Carol were living with Linder and Evan out on the farm in Hillsborough, a half mile from the road. I remember you leading me up the path in your beloved blue Chevy stepside truck. I remember how nice and cozy it was inside the house, and I remember us speaking about the issues of the day. There was plenty of ground to cover, from the food coop to the worker’s movement in NC, to the current state of the Cuban revolution. You covered all of these topics with passion, insight, and a willingness to listen.
Most of all I remember your enthusiasm for your family, for your pursuits, and for sweeping social change in this society and the world. During the early 90s, I was spending a lot of time over at the union office in Bill Suggs’ building next to the food coop on West Chapel Hill St. You were working at the coop, where you reached out and developed relationships with so many people, while also tending to the produce and umpteen other coop chores. You would come over to Bill’s building after your work at the coop, with your trumpet case in one hand and a big smile on your face, looking forward to your lesson with Bill. I would ask Bill how you were progressing, and he would smile and say “well, you know, Jamie can’t really play, but he sure puts a lot of energy into it.” And I was witness to many exuberant sounds coming out of that horn! If I was still around when Bill and Jamie finished their lesson, there was usually a pleasant conversation or debate among us before Jamie ran out the door to go home.
The dinners over at Lynch St. with you, Carol, and the boys were always special. It was like taking a time out on everything else in life for 3 hours. Jamie would entice me to dinner with several strategies. One was to mention his special home brews. Another frequent strategy was for Jamie to mention one of Linder’s “inventions.” To hear Jamie tell it, Linder was winning high-status prizes with his scientific artwork that employed all kinds of scavenged gadgetry. So, part of dinner together was always reviewing Linder’s newest creation, and it was always quite impressive. At dinner there was often a lot of commotion, as Linder and Evan took about 10 minutes to eat and then they were off to playing in the wide-open living room and bedrooms of the house. During one visit, Jamie notified me that Evan had been to the hospital for stitches two times in as many months due to some mishaps while playing. I was concerned, but Jamie was confident that Evan could take it without any permanent harm. Jamie was so proud of the guys: proud of their creativity and proud that they were having active childhoods so that they could grow up to be strong and able.
Jamie, I miss you and I regret that we didn’t get to talk since I went off to grad school. A lot of things changed for you in the interim, and I am really sorry to hear some of what transpired, for you as well as for Carol and the boys (now young men). All I can say at this point is that I know you started out wanting everything good in life for Linder, Evan, and Tanner. I hope that they can carry forward remembering the abundant enthusiasm and encouragement you had for them when they were young. Something went wrong for you along the way, and we will all be trying to make sense of it for quite a while. But you started out with a wonderful heart. You loved your children and cared deeply for the students and adults that you counseled. You showed me the utmost in respect and compassion, and I will always remember you for that.
Jamie and I were good friends at Concord High School, and it is reassuring to see from reading the various posts that his character and passion for life stayed with him during his adult years. We were opposites in many ways, yet we could still be friends despite our differences. Jamie was the radical espousing socialism and communism and I was the social conservative supporting Jesse Helms and Milton Friedman. Our mutual interest in politics and social issues at an early age helped to bind our friendship, as most of our classmates had little to no interest in such topics.
ReplyDeleteJamie was also a fun and interesting person to spend time with. He introduced me to new artists such as Joni Mitchell, Bob Dylan and Peter Frampton (before he became famous). Later, we enjoyed listening to The Who, and Quadrophenia was our favorite album. Jamie was also a Dean Smith fan, so we cheered the Tar Heels to the national title game our senior year in HS...1977. We also played hookey and camped in the Uwharrie National Forest.
Our deep political and social discussions were frequently lubricated by beer on weekends, and the front porch of his parents' house on Union Street was a favorite spot for us. Jamie's sister, Mary, would sometimes join us when she was in town. Not being satisfied with Concord, Jamie and I often drove to Charlotte on week-ends, where we could purchase pitchers of beer for $2.00 even though we were not yet 18 years old.
Jamie became a serious student both at CHS and UNCC, and I recall that psychology was his favorite topic. We attended different schools and I eventually joined a fraternity at UNC, which was probably the antithesis of Jamie. Still, we remained good friends and we attended the 1979 Gator Bowl in Jacksonville with his sister and her family. Later, we attended the REM concert at Davidson College in 1982 (right as they were becoming famous).
We drifted further apart after college, and I didn't see Jamie after the mid 80's. I tried locating him a few times via the internet, and I finally found him several weeks ago under the listings of a therapist in Durham. I'm glad to know that Jamie spent his time doing what was important to him...providing help to those in need.
Jamie was a unique and interesting friend for me, and I'm sorry that we lost touch. I enjoyed reading the many posts regarding his diverse life in Durham and Chapel Hill, and it is wonderful to read about the close friendships he developed. Jamie was a sincere and caring individual, and I am deeply saddened by the news of his untimely death. I will always remember Jamie for the many fun times we had together in both high school and college.
Dear Jamie,
ReplyDeleteWe never came from the same blood line
But our friendship paths crossed for nearly a quarter of a century,
and so we’re family.
And that’s why I beg your pardon to put a couple words to your memory.
It was on Sunday (two days before your journey into the next world…) that I came to your house to get some fire wood.
I walked in with a bottle of red wine for us to share.
You let me in from the back door and I took a seat at your dining table.
“You seemed withdrawn and looked tired” I said to you as you walked passed me to sit in your living room.
I decided to pull Naim on you: “M.F, what are you doing yonda…come over here and give me a cork screw for this bottle.” You smiled and walked into the kitchen and joined me on your dining table.
“I want to come with you to Sierra Leone” you said and you brought your passport from your bedroom to show me. “Your passport expires 2014…so you’re good to go” I said and we talked about the many things you could do while in S/L. How you could come at the end of March (a week after my arrival), and stay longer if you like it. How you could teach PSYC at the college I went to, and how we could buy some Gold from my former students in the mining town where I taught math etc etc.
I called my traveling agent, Yomi from your dining table to let him know you will be calling him to book your flight. I wrote his phone number on an envelope you provided and left it on your dining table.
“You will be a new kid on the block among my family members and friends in Sierra Leone.” I said, and you smiled.
We emptied the wine bottle and it started to snow outside. “I better get some fire wood before it gets nasty out there…” I said and we both got on our feet to go outside.
“Let me walk you to the wood pile in the back” you said as we walked towards the back door with Molly, the dog already ahead of us at the door.
You showed me the wood pile against the fence in the far back.
“Cover them up after you’re finished,” you said and you walked back to the house.
I helped myself to six logs to my car; and I came back into the house to thank you.
“Do you want to come sit by the fire at my house?” I asked you.
And you said “I am tired, I need to nap…”.and you walked back towards your room.
I remember seeing your back towards me as you walked away…
Neither did I know that it was our last meeting.
Now that your dream come through, and you come down
Ashes-to-ashes in Old North Durham, North Carolina.
Braima Moiwai
to be continued...
Your Memory
ReplyDeleteIt’s weird how death and life can conspire to shatter the heart’s most fragile desire
And how history and biography can go flat against you and the dis-ease in one’s community can gang up and jam upon you.
After travels in Cuba and South America- your revolutionary youthful days.
It was at the Durham Food Coop that we grounded sweet bother around organic fruits and veggies talking about history and politrix.
With our ideas about the Justice, human sufferings and bashing evil empires around the World etc etc..
Every now and then…we had fun and laughter with Old Naim who was a mentor for both of us.…
Like two passing clouds you and I in the middle of a desert exchanging vapor.
We had laughter after laughter as I replaced you as produce manager at the coop.
And you left for your grad school.
I remember when you, Thad, Melisa, Madina and I went up to Ohio to pay our respect to Naim when he passed. I remember the jokes we had during the long car ride and the grave site. Boy, if there’s life after death, I could hear Naim right now. “M.F, what are you doing here? You what??? You fucked up…”
You took me in a loop with our plans to travel to travel to Sierra Leone.
I called you at 9:13 on Tuesday morning to remind you to call my travel agent after our discussion on Sunday afternoon. I left you a message and you never called me back.
I had a call from Juliet Jensen at 2,00pm when her friend, your neighbor called her about the Police surrounding your house, and that you did not make it. My heart dropped….
I never knew that that you were just preparing to leave on a one way ticket
After Sunday, I thought we were like two young deers who could have coped with the daily deflowering of the spirit of the every day erosion of the Soul in the US of A.
My grandma told me to be a tree in the wind…to bend when the wind blows and come up when it stops…
Through out the learning, the teaching/counceling, the resisting of the system, the loving, giving and the organizing of the fights
that the Kaissar of darkness can capture your heart.
That the last time me see you will be the last time me see you?
Like a tree falling hurting the by-standers to the ground.
That all of the sudden you would fly out on
a one way ticket to
catch up with your Ancestral past.
we give thanks for the life
you shared with us
we give thanks for the light
you shun upon us
we give thanks for the love
you showered upon us
We give thanks for
your memory.
RIP
Braima Moiwai
Jamie was my brother, and I loved him very much. He was born just shy of my 16th birthday, and it was the happiest day of my life. It seems like yesterday, and I have relived that day many, many times over the years. I was the principle “baby-sitter” on weekends when our parents were working and during summer breaks from school. Mother later said she worried that she had robbed me of my teen-age freedom, but I assured her that was not the case. I thought of him as my own.
ReplyDeleteThe family became frankly a little worried that while as a toddler Jamie was doing all the things he should be doing at the different stages of growth, but he was very slow to develop speech, saying just a few words. Then one day Jamie started talking in complete sentences just like the rest of us and we all marveled at this accomplishment. He never stopped being a marvel to us, and he never stopped enjoying his speaking abilities. I thought he one day might become a college professor but then realized Jamie could never cover his lecture topic in one hour’s class time.
I watched him grow up at a slight distance, there being such a difference in our ages. I loved being with him at Concord Middle School where I was teaching and remember his coming by my classroom fairly frequently to let me know he had forgotten his lunch money. Later I learned he had not forgotten it at all but was just trying to make a small profit on the side. I appreciate Sandy Thompson’s blog sharing some of his high school memories of Jamie. Another high school friend wrote to me, “He was always kind to me and made me smile.” He did indeed make us smile.
Being with family was extremely important to Jamie, and he reveled in the times we gathered together for various occasions. The conversations just naturally turned to politics, and while our parents were liberals of the FDR, Truman, Kennedy variety, Jamie’s politics veered slightly left of that (an understatement) which made for spirited, fun, debates. In his college years and after his social activism really took hold. We worried so about his trips to Central America. He sent poems trying to explain his passion for what he was doing, but I would ask myself what it all meant. If I didn’t understand it, I fully admired his passion and his total commitment to his causes.
to be continued...
Cresslyn Willeford Trexler
Carol come into his life and later the boys were born and we visited their “farm houses” of which he was so very proud. Lee and I on leaving would ask each other, “How are they going to survive a winter in that house!” Survived they did and flourished in the process. When he, Carol, and the boys visited in Concord, we were amazed at how well-behaved the boys were, and how he and Carol handled any little dispute with patience and calm. Linder, Evan, and Tanner were Jamie’s raison d’etre. In his last conversations with me we always spoke of the boys. The tone of his voice would change and the tenderness and depth of love he felt for them was palpable. He loved the time he spent with little Ian as well; he was so proud to be a grandfather.
ReplyDeleteThe memorial service for Jamie was a perfect tribute to him. I thank sincerely those who came, those who spoke so eloquently of him, and those who have contributed to this blog. You come from different times in your association with Jamie, from different walks of life, and yet you describe the same Jamie. He was himself to everyone, and he gave himself to everyone. He was fun-loving and funny, serious and compassionate. So many things. He worked tirelessly for the voiceless, the powerless, the disadvantaged, and the underserved. He saw wrongs and sought to make them right, and he was committed to these efforts. What more honorable endeavor could there be? He was an inspiration to me and challenges me to a higher calling. To have empathy and understanding for others. To do more. To be more.
Ted Kennedy wrote in his memoir, True Compass, “I wish life were simpler. I wish that loved ones didn’t have to die too young. I wish that tragedy never haunted a single soul. But to wish that is to ask for an end to humanity.”
There was only one Jamie. We will never see his like again. I miss him. He was my brother, and I loved him very much.
Cresslyn Willeford Trexler
I had met Jamie and his family all but once or twice before Tanner (around six years old at the time) called me up out of the blue on the phone (perhaps with a bit of peer pressure from the person reading this paper) and said, “come live with us!” Feeling the need to confirm this invitation with at least one other member of the family, Jamie soon hopped on the phone and said “Sure you should come down! Come on down, Bill!”
ReplyDeleteAnd not too much later I showed up from New Jersey and was happily adopted into the family as some combination of oldest child and/or eccentric (and homeless) uncle. I would soon revel in the slowed down, straight-talking humility that Jamie filled the house on Lynch Street with. Not to mention his stomach-busting cackles that came on particularly strong during both spontaneous tofutti parties and any discussions of Duke University’s endowment.
Over a decade later, I can still recall the playfulness that Jamie brought to everyday life:
“Tanny, would you look at the size of that tomato we just grew!”
“Evan Che Willeford, what are we going to do about the invasion of the Whole Foods corporatists! My god, who would pay $17 a pound for dried cherries? The Sandanistas must be turning in their grave!”
“Linder, get back here! Where do you think you’re going LJ? You better watch out for the Empire of Fools out there!”
“Carol, I’m going to the co-op. Do we need anything today other than a people-powered economic revolution?”
I don’t know where to begin with the small slice of life I got to experience with Jamie. Watching him tend to his do-it-yourself grapefruit trees that grew on top of the washing machine. Joining us as we tore up a chunk of the backyard to plant kale and basil, then took over an even larger chunk of the backyard to build a hut out of scrap wood that we collected from various junkyards and garbage piles around Durham.
We certainly didn’t know Jamie long enough, but the relatively short time I was able to spend with him was a true lesson in what it means to live, breathe, and build community.
I read this poem today from the Irish poet John O'Donohue. It made me think of Jamie and all of the good loving people he left behind. I want to share this poem with you all and the blessings it infers.
ReplyDeleteLike Braima's oft-quoted grandmama said you have to be a tree in the wind…to bend when the wind blows and come up when it stops…
Keep the faith and remember all the love, light and beauty in this world!
Beannacht
("Blessing")
On the day when
the weight deadens
on your shoulders
and you stumble,
may the clay dance
to balance you.
And when your eyes
freeze behind
the grey window
and the ghost of loss
gets in to you,
may a flock of colours,
indigo, red, green,
and azure blue
come to awaken in you
a meadow of delight.
When the canvas frays
in the currach of thought
and a stain of ocean
blackens beneath you,
may there come across the waters
a path of yellow moonlight
to bring you safely home.
May the nourishment of the earth be yours,
may the clarity of light be yours,
may the fluency of the ocean be yours,
may the protection of the ancestors be yours.
And so may a slow
wind work these words
of love around you,
an invisible cloak
to mind your life.
Jaime Willeford Presente!
ReplyDeleteYou are still remembered
...and missed
I miss you Jamie. Today I planted some pansies in honor of your birthday. I know you would have remarked about them and their simple beauty had you been here. You were always able to see the beauty in things. I miss you.
ReplyDeleteThe memories are dear and I hold on to them.
I love you.
Cresslyn
Today is my brother's birthday. I think of him every day and miss him more as time goes by. He was so special in so many ways as anyone who reads this knows. Words still do not come easily. But I needed to post this remembrance in his honor.
ReplyDeleteCresslyn
Remembering you and missing you on your birhtday. It is a beautiful fall day. One that reminds me of you particularly because of its beauty. How I miss your words, your laughter, and your truth. Your light is shinning through in
ReplyDeleteyour boys as I knew it would.
Cresslyn
Remembering you on your birthday. And every day. You would be so proud of your boys. Each different and possessing an unique part of you. Life after death? You were such a tremendous part of them. And many others of us as well. Miss you my brother.
ReplyDeleteRemembering you today on your birthday. And every day, as I have said before. I miss you my brother. Nothing has been the same since you left us. It is a beautiful day. Bright blue October sky with a hint of fall in the air. You would be so proud of the fine young men your sons have become. Each of them possessing a part of you within them. You did well brother. A real tribute to you and to Carol. I love you and I miss you.
ReplyDeleteI remember that you always gave the most liberal servings of ice cream. I remember learning that germs weren't such a big deal, as you and I would swap gum as you taught me how to blow bubbles. I remember a year of crushing guilt over having smoked my first cigarette, and how when I finally told you, you laughed and told me stories of the stupid things you did as a youngin. And learned about how mistakes were part of growing up. I remember that you taught me music has the power to heal. And you reminded me of this often. I remember being endlessly embarrassed of you and how you would strike up a conversation with just about anyone and talk their ears off. I remember that especially when I wish people would open up more often. I remember how you were in an ever fiery fight against injustice in the world. I remember wondering how injustice would find its way into our house. I remember not wanting to talk with you. I remember wanting to talk to you. I remember the love you had for me either way. I remember getting to know the heavier things that people deal with through getting to know you. I remember not understanding. I remembering trying. I remember the last birthday we shared together, and I remember thinking how silly I was in thinking that I almost didn't want to see you that night out of some sort of frustrating. I remember that you loved me either way. I remember a lot. And I remember a little. I remember that I loved you. I love you.
ReplyDeleteThanks to Tanner for posting a reminder on Facebook today about this blog of memories of Jamie. What came to me just now was the memory of so many times of walking into the Durham Food Co-op, seeing Jamie standing by the produce cooler, and watching his face light up in greeting. Jamie, always ready with a generous, welcoming, compassionate smile, always glad to see his friends, always enthusiastic about the power of people when we work together. 25 years ago feels like it was yesterday, standing in front of that produce in relaxed conversation with Jamie in the middle of the work day. And I remember seeing the amazing pictures Jamie took in Cuba hanging on the coop walls. The light in the faces of the beautiful people in those photos is a mirror of the light in Jamie's eyes as he interacted with them. There were, and there are, no strangers in Jamie's world. Love to Jamie, Carol, Tanner, Linder and Evan, and to all Jamie's beautiful family and friends, Kathleen Hannan
ReplyDeleteThank you Tanner for putting a call out to your community and those who knew Jamie tonshare and keep him alive in our hearts!
ReplyDeleteI had and hold so many wonderful memories of Jamie! My first times with him centered around the Durham Food Coop and his enthusiasm for the community surrounding that resource for those he felt were in need as well as the community holding the coop together.
He was very passionate and vocal about his desire to see the unfolding of the coop be inclusive to everyone!!! Simply entering the coop doors meant an opening for him to speak his passion always with a huge smile and hug to begin the encounter. I felt a strong sense of righteousness from him that in solidarity with as he would gently and then with more and more passion pronounce his thoughts and wishes for our community there.
After getting to know him and Carol and LJ and Tanner and Evan and hanging out with them on the land where they lived in Hillsborough our families became more united. To this day we gather and support the changes that come.
Jamie had a strong sense of community and I have come to appreciate that more as I write this remembrance. His passion and sense of how to bring the neighborhood together was illuminating. I remember his idea of bringing the produce and foods that the neighborhood would want in a truck for those that couldn't get out of their homes felt right to me. He espoused that if only they knew what the coop had they would come and shop there more..a grocery store food truck! What a novel idea! Today that would probably really well actually!!!
I sometimes was in a hurry when entering the coop and knew that if Jamie was around, though I loved his words and felt them too, I might have to go down another aisle to avoid his conversation... because he was so passionate and wanted to share his thoughts. I so appreciate now
more than I have known how much his caring and openness and dedication to those that needed attention, food, community was his life's work! He worked that theme with amazing gusto and fortitude!
There was a time when my family needed counsel and Jamie was then into the professional counseling career, another field to bring him closer to the needs of his community, and he was so gentle and delicately considerate in the ways he brought his guidance and words carefully in order to help us through that difficult time.
I am so thankful for spending this time remembering Jamie... it will feed me in my struggle to maintain an assemnlance of moving forward in the community that has nowmsplintered off in some ways. Situations have changed us and yet now to bring Jamie into my mind and heart I feel his passions with such admiration, deep appreciation and so much love for him, his family and yes our shared community. I carry this into my day and know he helped shape me in my desire to maintain our community in the light of serving and talking about what our needs are... what is it that brings community together. The coop was a perfect platform for announcing to his world all those important themes.
Thank you Jamie...you are loved always and forever!
Claudia
I started writing a long and winding jumble of recollections, but it felt a little overwhelming. Too much pressure to say something special or important. For now, let me just say that I'm grateful for this space and these reflections. I cannot think about Jamie without smiling. And I can't think of him without feeling a powerful sadness. Knowing Jamie, I guess that makes sense. He was full of smiles and humor, but he also suffered a great deal over the world's flaws and weaknesses. I liked that he was an affectionate guy, a hugger who didn't shy away from letting you know he cared. I liked that he was fun and passionate. Countless nights of homemade pizza, silly made up games, and rousing political debates reflect the passion and fun of early 2000s JCLET. I really resonate with what Billy W and Bill W shared, particularly in terms of his brand of parenting and engaging young people. I remember that tree house project, the backyard explosions, tearing around Durham to find the best July 4th fireworks show at the very last minute... On my mantle, there is a photo of Jamie and Tanner circa 2002. In the photo, Jamie is wearing his "No Blood for Oil: Troops out Now!" t-shirt, and kneeling beside Tanner, with his arms in mid flourish. While Tanner, I suppose about 8 years old? Is standing beside him with the purple and yellow court jester hat on and a very dour expression. It is pitch black outside, so they are covered in artificial flash and surrounded by blackness. This moment could exist any time, anywhere. I like the "out of time, out of place" quality of this image, and what it suggests to me about who Jamie was. Jamie was serious about smashing imperialism, and serious about having a good time. And, he was serious about being a dad. I miss him and I love his family. I draw just about as much inspiration and example from Jamie and Carol in my parenting as from anyone else. And I can't say that without laughing at how many times strangers thought I was the "black nanny" when I hung out with the family. Jamie was especially amused by how peoples' reactions to us reflected their own tragically limited notions of community and family. For him, that was simply not the case. And I dare say, as an Ancestor, Jamie probably strolls around like the cock of the walk, with his chest shoved way out. Because he must be so proud of his boys, and the family and community they have built and sustained around themselves. He must be so very proud. I guess it turned into a rambling jumble after all. Oh well. I miss Jamie and I love you all very much.
ReplyDeleteRemembering you on your birthday, and every day. I miss you very much. How proud of your boys you would be, but then you always were proud of them. We have gotten to know them a little. Something you always wanted when they were young. Your bright light shines through them in many ways. Remarkable really. I love you very much my brother, and miss you each day. Cresslyn
ReplyDeleteI think of Jamie every day, but October is his birthday month (tomorrow is his birthday) and it is usually considered one of the most beautiful of the twelve. October reminds me of him because I can see Jamie, camera in hand, captivated by October's beauty and ready to document nature's fall surprises. Our parents never made much of a fuss with our birthdays growing up as I recall. As a consequence with my kids I tried to make their day especially memorable, and I know Jamie probably did as well. He was understandably thrilled to share his birthday with Tanner. Linder, Evan, and Tanner are by all accounts doing well and happily pursuing their dreams and their paths in life. I know he realized fully their potential, and I have said, thought, a million time how much i wish he could see them now.I miss Jamie very much. My life would be so much more meaningful if he were still with us. This is something I know anyone would say who has lost a loved one.I often read some poetry to bring me some solace or comfort and one of my favorites is a few lines from Wordsworth: "What though the radiance which was once so bright
ReplyDeleteBe now forever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendor in the grass,of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind".
I miss you Jamie and love you.
Cresslyn
Tomorrow is my brother's birthday. And though I can now think of him and smile at a certain memory, there is always lingering beneath the surface that profound,crushing sadness of our having lost him much, much too soon. I have written before that the day he was born was the happiest day of my life. I remember distinctly hearing of his birth at school during our lunch break. I was so thrilled that I ran back to my biology classroom and wrote in big letters on the blackboard (not many of those around now) "It's a boy!" Having a sister I considered a pain and a nuisance, (she being 5 years younger than I) I was totally ready to have a little brother. As I have written before, being almost 16 I considered him my own. Which was good in lots of ways, but I didn't have as much time with him with college on the horizon. But that day was one I never get tired of reliving.
ReplyDeleteI miss him so much... his laughter and warmth... his willingness and enthusiasm to listen (to whomever) ... all of his many passions! Especially his dedication to standing up and speaking out and his power to make a difference. How much he would have to say and do in this unsettled, chaotic, and dangerous time we are facing right now.
Linder, Evan, Tanner remind me so of him. Each in his own way. We did not have our Lake Tillery family reunion this year because of COVID-19. This gathering to honor his life and remember that Lake Tillery was where Jamie spent much time when he was growing up. It was important to him and it has become important for those of us who remember him, and for the young ones to know something about him. He would love, love, love these times with his family!
So Jamie lives on through his boys and he lives on in the lives of those he touched as seen in the responses written here. He made a difference. He is still making a difference.
I miss him. I will always miss him. And I love him dearly.
Cresslyn
Today is my brother's birthday and I miss him. I know after almost two years of the covid virus there are many, many people missing their loved ones as well. It has been a very hard year. The world is in need of more people like Jamie. We will always need those like him though.
ReplyDeleteIt is hard not to be depressed when thinking about the state of things, but we must keep the faith and keep trying to make a difference. Jamie certainly would be doing so. And we honor him by following in his footsteps.
So on this beautiful fall October day I will be hopeful and remember my brother with love and admiration. Hopeful for his talented sons who show such promise. They make us all so very proud!
Many times I have gone to the poem left in this space entitled "Beannacht" which has given me solace when times are tough. Thinking of Jamie brings me solace too. I miss him. I wish I could tell him how much I love him. How much he is loved by many.
Cresslyn
Today is Jamie's birthday. Tanner's too. It is always a little difficult to send birthday wishes to Tanner. Jamie was thrilled to share his birthday with his youngest son. (Though when Tanner was born I think Jamie still had ideas for a brood of 12!)
ReplyDeleteThough I only seem to write in this space on his birthday, I miss him every day. The news that Tanner and Maria are expecting their first child would have filled him with complete happiness! I recall just how thrilled he was when Linder and Sarah were expecting. And of course Ian was an absolute joy to him. He would adore Ava! So it saddens me to know he isn't with us to celebrate the arrival of his third grandchild and to see them all grow and flourish. He would have been the kind of grandparent every child needs and deserves to start their life secure in love and care and guidance.
But it is a beautiful October day. One he would have appreciated and enjoyed being a part of. So I celebrate Jamie's birthday with a thankful heart for the day, and for having Jamie as my brother. I think of him with tears in my eyes, but with a smile on my face as his memory gladdens my heart, which I will take with me until the end.
I love you Jamie.
Cresslyn
Today is Jamie's birthday. I miss him.
ReplyDeleteHis leaving has left a void of course. All leavings do that. One of the first things that come to mind when thinking of Jamie is how much I wish he were here to see how his boys have grown and matured and become. Such fine young men! Alike in ways and also different. He would be beside himself with pride!
And then the grandchildren. I am thankful that he did get to experience the feeling of being a grandparent when Ian was born. He was so happy when he talked of Ian.
Tanner came to visit recently bringing Maria and his son Elio to meet us for the first time. We looked at pictures of Jamie when he was very young, trying to see if Elio favored him in any way. That too would have made Jamie happy.
We have our memories, and as all the cards say, they do give us some small comfort. But that's as far as they go. Jamie is not here. And I miss him.
Love you Jamie,
Cresslyn