Memento Mori
This is the tribute I wrote for Leon, with much thanks to jaq and Harriett for the last-minute editing!
* * *
Leon taught us gentleness and generosity, humor and love. He animated our lives with dry wit and open arms, with spontaneity and thoughtfulness. If we are heartbroken now, it is because Leon is so deeply rooted in our hearts and in our lives, and because his life has brought so much happiness to ours.
Leon found inspiration and joy in his work as the public programs manager at the Eiteljorg Museum, where he worked for the past eight years, and at The Children’s Museum, where he worked the decade prior. His affinity for working with people came naturally, and those who found themselves on the edges of society—children, minorities, even new staff members—received immediate warmth and friendship from Leon. He treated people with admirable equality, staying true to his own open nature, no matter who they were or how they treated him. He was more than a coworker or a manager of public programs: his genuine affection for the artists he invited to the museum bore rich fruit in the lasting friendships he formed and in his own creative endeavors. He became an artist in his own right, taking up basketry with exquisite results. He was a determined activist for African-Americans and other Americans of color, using his work at the Eiteljorg Museum and Indiana Black Expo to help people see themselves in the American West, from the earliest times to the present. He cared about bringing the museum’s mission to life, and took pride in events like Winter Market, which he nurtured from a simple idea into a great success.
Unlike many of us who hesitate to reach out and touch others, Leon did so literally and figuratively, time and time again. He provided support and encouragement for several families who had relocated to Indianapolis after Hurricane Katrina. He was an active and faithful board member of Gleaner’s Food Bank for seven years, tirelessly leading their strategic planning efforts and pouring his heart and passion into their mission. Leon wrestled with the challenges of feeding the hungry, and he encouraged others to do the same. When the Eiteljorg offered free admission in lieu of a food donation to Gleaner’s last December, Leon kept staff apprised of not only how much food had been collected, but also how many bowls it would fill. He was so happy to be able to spread the passion from his volunteer work to his day job, and proud that Eiteljorg visitors contributed so heartily.
Leon saw no boundaries, only opportunities, and he found a singular place in our lives that straddled the personal and professional. He incorporated Gleaner’s mission into the Eiteljorg; he brought compassion and understanding to Gleaner’s; he infused his own hopes for African-Americans into everything he did. His wonderful dry humor permeated our lives, keeping us humble and humane, and he unstintingly expressed sincere affection for those around him, always there to squeeze a colleague’s shoulder or offer a hug. His love for his partner, Kevin, was quiet, strong, palpable. He spoke fondly and proudly of his brother, Jerry, and his sister, April. He was always happy for an excuse to brag about his niece and nephew, Tessa and Tristan, whose pictures he kept in his office. The mothers of young boys collapsed with laughter at the recountings of his own favorite childhood stories, as he told how he and Jerry escaped punishment after setting the vacuum cleaner on fire—who would have thought that sweeping up hot embers from the fireplace could have such negative consequences?
Leon didn’t hesitate to bring swift perspective to a situation, often saying, “Aah, get over it!” But we won’t get over him: it is simply not possible to find somebody who hugs so well, smiles so broadly, or cares so deeply. Leon wrote in an email many years ago, “I’m not sure what the future holds for Leon Jett. I do know that I carry with me lessons about families, children, life, learning, and many personal discoveries into my next chapter. I am richer for it.” And we are richer for him.
Posted 25 February 2007
No Comments
Comments RSS TrackBack Identifier URI
Leave a comment
Very sweet.
Thank you. I think Leon would feel honored and touched. Attending a memorial service and hearing people say things like this makes one think, “What would they say about me?” All of us at the service and who knew Leon can do no more honor to him than to pass along even a small part of the acceptance, openness and friendship he showed to each of us.
I meant to tell you that this was an excellent tribute to the mighty Leon. I guess I was lucky enough to know him for a short while, but that short while has enriched my life in ways I can’t describe. He’s was my hero then and is my hero now. I hope all is well with you and your milk-top chasing cat. Take care.
JP
I am here in florida and missing my brother more than ever.. I remember the near fire vacuum episode and his amazingly qucik and sharp wit. I remember many nights as children my brother recounting recently read super hero comics to me till I fell asleep.. Leon, April, and I had a sunday phone 3 way that kept us up to date on what each was experiencing but I still feel like I am still being impressed by my big brother.. he is still my super hero. Thank you for reminding us of his beauty.