From the Bottom of the Bucket

“You Are Only One Phone Call Away……”

Even though I did not join social media to share personal social activities (I do enjoy other people’s shares) I was so overwhelmed with the beauty of my wife and her outfit for our first Derby event “Derby Decadence” a Storytellers Project sponsored by USA Today, that I shared a post on Tuesday evening as we prepared to kick off the Kentucky Derby Festival 2017.  It is a two week period where my city, Louisville stops everything and indulges itself in so many different forms (I’s now the second largest festival in the USA).

This one promised to be a treat as it featured five speakers who would share their Derby story in a manner that the Project describes “true, first person stories from neighbors and notables. We believe that storytelling and journalism reflect a community, while developing empathy in that community”

 

It was also a thrill because I personally knew three of the five speakers.  One of those speakers, James Long, told his story of being a trailblazer for black jockeys in the thoroughbred industry.  He continually expressed his gratitude for the opportunities that had been provided and the privilege he had as a vanguard in the emergence of a whole new breed of black jockeys.

Imagine the shock I felt when I opened this morning’s newspaper and found that Mr. Long had been killed, that very night, in a car crash, while returning home from his speech.

 

I can’t help but wonder how he would have felt if he knew he was entering his last twenty four hours of time on earth.   Would his talk been different?  I can tell you my feeling is no.  He came across as a man who was a peace with himself and was filled with appreciation for the life he had lived and the legacy he was already leaving.   He embodied the spirit of “Living in the Bucket”!

I did not know Mr. Long, but his sad departure only served to remind me that we must all remind ourselves daily that we are only one phone call (or car crash) away from the end of our story as we know it.  Since, none of us can foretell when such an event will occur, the only way to deal with it is to live each day as though it were your last, because one day it will be.

I feel Mr. Long’s tribe would be proud of his last twenty- four hours with us.   All we can do is mourn his loss and aspire to live the way he did.

Until next month, I wish you fulfillment.

Bob

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bob