Category: From the Soul

By Ernie McCray

On November 22, 1963, I was a twenty-five year old sixth grade teacher enjoying my second year serving students at Perry Elementary. Before recess that day we had gotten the news that the president was shot.

The radio in our classroom verified what we had heard with the words “President John Fitzgerald Kennedy is dead.”

By Ernie McCray

I’m not, necessarily, one for seeing movies or plays or other things that are staged more than once unless there’s something really special about it. That being said I can’t wait to take in my friend Calvin Manson’s wonderfully soulful musical “Don’t Let me Be Misunderstood” again.

I highly recommend this beautifully crafted piece of theater because it’s so personal to me. It features the songs of one of my show-people-heroes, Nina Simone. This inimitable singer and pianist not only dazzled the world with her sultry sincere soulful voice but she also, at the same time, actively pursued dreams of that world being one where all people live in freedom. With dignity. Like Robeson and Belafonte. That kind of service to humanity resonates deeply within me.

“Scouting for All Rally” in Front of Boy Scouts Headquarters, 1207 Upas St. at 11:00 on 10/13/13

By Ernie McCray

Oh, if the Boy Scouts of America
could just begin to understand
how much better the quality of life
could be in this land
if they would just completely
put aside their homophobe-ary
and recognize the humanity
of folks who are LGBT,
folks who add to and enrich our diversity –
if they would just embrace all of them,
even those who are older than eighteen,
the age at which gay boys can still be dismissed
as no longer being worthy of boy scout membership.
It’s way past time they
began treating
all human beings with respect
and decency.

By Ernie McCray

I hadn’t camped since Nancy died in ’09. But there I was, this past weekend, laying my sleeping bag down on the ground, to spend some time in the wilderness, near Julian, for two days and two nights with some of the most delightful people one could ever meet in life. It would be an understatement to define those moments as nice.

I mean we were living good, just kicking back, underneath a sky that was black as it could be considering that there was a full moon at play, eating meals off the grill, over burning logs we needed to feel cozy in the evening chill.

It had been a while but nothing had changed since the days when Nancy and I and our offspring would get out into the woods. Like back then, no sooner than I stepped out of my car my spiritual nature rose to the fore.

By Ernie McCray

Prologue: I’ve had so many of what one might call moments in my life. Come from behind victories on playing courts and fields. Ovations on stage. Rich surprises. This list goes on and on. And now I find myself in a wonderful moment in time, enjoying a relationship with an incredible woman when, at one time, such a reality seemed unlikely for me. This is a poem I wrote for her 70th birthday party. Hey, I have a 70 year old foxy squeeze! How cool is that?

Feeling my way around
in a new place in life.
Had been to some dark places
had lost a wife,
my soul-mate, my queen,
in a haze, wondering and wandering,
how to move on to other things.
Looking at the world with tears in my eyes.
Breathing out.
Breathing in.
And there was fluttering
and in came
Maria on the wings of time.
Maria on the wings of time.

By Ernie McCray

I was a bit out of tune the other day from just dealing with whatever tiny bits of frazzle-dazzle life had laid in my path that day and as I’m mumbling to myself over my little “First World Problem”, my cell phone vibrates in my levis pocket and I turn it on and there’s a picture of the dude, my main man, the leader of the band: Lyric. Flashing a smile that says in its very cuteness “Hey, dude, let all that minutiae go, bro.”

And so I did, like the sun melting snow. I just let it slide off my hide. I do that anyway, via my DNA, but my grandson’s smile made me not only stop but pause. Any rose near my nose was going to be smelled.

By Ernie McCray

I don’t know where
the Regular Joe is with games
but I have lived to play all the games.
Hey, what can I say,
starting when I was but a babe,
I spent the greatest part of my childhood age
catching something
or knocking somebody down
or vice-versa,
copping a Heisman Trophy pose
and sidestepping some clown
who’s trying to run you down
so he can knock you down…
Somebody’s going down.

By Ernie McCray

I got a call on my message machine asking for my help regarding a “secular” matter. It was my first such request in all my 75 years so I couldn’t help but wonder, “Why me?” since I don’t, although I’m not religious, necessarily consider myself a secular human being, and also since this particular worldly problem pertained to La Jolla.

I mean when I moved to San Diego in 1962, I was, in and of my 6 foot five black self, a problem in La Jolla, feeling, whenever I visited, about as welcomed as a seal in the Children’s Pool, like an unwashed heathen in a pristine hallowed place.

This lovely hilly seaside community and I, however, over time have come a long way from when we started our relationship so many decades ago, as I have swum and body surfed in its waters and run and walked its shores and rapped with kids in its schools and read scripts on its stages. But I have never weighed in on La Jolla’s affairs, secular or otherwise.

by Ernie McCray

Lyric Allen Anderson arrived on this earth on May 29th, 2013. He’s become the tenth person I can claim as a grandchild and every one of them is dear to me. But this beautiful baby boy is particularly special in that he’s the first to carry within his veins the blood of his Grandma Nancy, who passed away four years ago, and mine. She was my valentine and I welcome Lyric Allen to the world in behalf of both of us.

Oh, I don’t know if I can describe what it felt like holding him in all his raw innocence, for the first time, as what words can convey how one feels when one of the dearest beings in the world to him gives birth to someone equally as cherished? I’ll portray it as simply a wonderful moment in time.

Thoughts on the “Fluency of Light”

By Ernie McCray

As I sit writing as a still new 75 year old, I’m so glad I’ve lived, in spite of how scary our world is at times, to see shreds of promise rise before my eyes, hopeful happenings like Arab Spring, gays marrying, and Occupy. I love anything that keeps hope alive.

By Ernie McCray

Just turned 75.
As I think about being a year older,
my first thought is
I’m so glad to be alive.
No jive.
On my list of priorities,
breathing is most high,
as I want to take all that I’ve seen,
over the years, with these old eyes,
all the bits and pieces of life
that are memorialized
and analyzed
and crystallized into my being’s archives
and use these experiences
in a constant quest
to stay wise –
because I dare to surmise
that there is no point in being 75
if you’re not wise.

by Ernie McCray

Everyone, perhaps, has now seen the picture of Martin Richard, the 8 year old boy who lost his life in Boston, holding a sign that says “No more hurting people – Peace.” Oh, if we, as a society, could live in such a caring way.

And these sentiments, expressed by Mr. Rogers, of children’s television fame, have gone viral in cyberspace: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.'”

How true, and I see Martin, even though he has been taken away from us, as one of the “helpers” of the world that Mr. Rogers has painted in our minds as he is already helping me to carry on after the madness at the Boston Marathon.

His sentiments are so simple. So innocent. So child-like. So characteristic, if you will, of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood.