The West Wind Helped Me Cry for Quentin Easter
The wind blew westward, as I sat at the bus stop at the Pittsburg/Bay Point Bart Station waiting for my sister, Phyllis, to pick me up. As I sat there due to the unusual occurrence of my sister being late, my mind wondered back to "Annie," my Aunt Mary, who took the bus even in her early 90's and sold bags of roasted peanuts to support her beloved church "The House of God, which is the Church of the Living God of the Pillar and Ground of the Truth," led at the time by a female pastor, a rare occurrence ushered in by the second modern wave of the Holy Spirit in the 1950's following the Azusa Awakening in April 1906. I thought about that church I'd visit during the summers in Jacksonville, Florida and that riotous spirited sound of praise to God that was kept in perfect feverish meter by the patting of high-heeled female feet on the wood floor of the sanctuary. That thought of that "give God all the glory" sound made me think of Quentin Easter. Quentin Easter, sweet Quentin.
I heard the rocking and clapping and joy of that past sound and it collided with the silence of the present. The silence and utter speechlessness I experienced when I read an email that had been sent by artist Lynnette White from civil rights advocate Aileen Hernandez-- Quentin Easter, co-founder of the Lorraine Hansberry Theatre had passed on Wednesday, April 28, 2010. As I sat there Saturday morning at the Pittsburg/Bay Point Bart Station, the tears began to flow and as Providence would have it I did not have to try to hide my tears as no one was around between the bus departure times while I waited for my "always on time" sister. As I cried the west wind dried my tears allowing me to cry the more. I cried for Quentin. I cried for Stanley Williams, his life and artistic partner. I cried for me and I cried for those who will miss Quentin's work and those who will never see it.
Quentin's
"joie de vivre" smiles--no matter what
happened he
always had that wide smile and an encouraging word. I
often wondered who encouraged Quentin. It seems
like it was not too long ago
that I had that dream about Quentin and me collaborating again. In my
dream, I remember the comfort of
sitting close to him on the back row of the Lorraine Hansberry Theatre
in new
comfortable seats (thanks to Oakland realtor Ernest Clark who actually
made a
donation for new seats) talking about the play I had written. In my
dream, it was something in the
spirit of "Your Arms too Short to Box With God," Vinnette Carroll's
work. It was a done deal come hell or high
water we were going to mount the play. I was comforted when I awoke and
always just a phone call a way
from
asking Quentin for a meeting to discuss how we could work together
because we
were meant to work together and that dream confirmed it. I didn't make
the call.
Now, I will wonder what it all meant. Was the dream just a reminder of how
comforting and collaborative and creative Quentin was or were we supposed to do
something together and I missed it?
I had had a very wonderful successful working experience with Quentin as
chairman of the Lorraine Hansberry's 15th Anniversary Gala. I was introduced in 1995 by a Red Cross Board member, Wayne Bowker, shortly before
his passing, to Quentin and Stanley. Wayne had been chairman of the Lorraine
Hansberry Theatre Board of Directors and I was honored that he asked me then an
executive with the American Red Cross to join the board of the Lorraine
Hansberry Theatre. In April 1996, I was asked to chair the June 1st gala .
That 15th Anniversary Gala in partnership with the San Francisco Museum of Modern Art was spectacular. We had six weeks to pull it all together and they had the right person to chair it because my Red Cross disaster experience had me primed to say yes to a project that most would have turned down. How can you have a successful fundraiser with a six- week turnaround? My thinking was if disasters can happen without notice, good things could happen quickly as well. It was on that project that I worked for the first time with the founder of the San Francisco Black Film Festival, the late Ave Montague. During that gala I had the opportunity to meet our honorees hotel entrepreneur Chip Conley, Asian Week Editor Ted Fang, and Kamala Harris, who is now running for State Attorney General. Then SF Chronicle Society Columnist Pat Steger made mention of playwright Ntozake Shange, and Chuck and Sheila Collins' involvement: http://articles.sfgate.com/1996-05-31/entertainment/17775664_1_lunch-dance-exhibition-faberge. There were many other luminaries at the event that garnered over 300 people at SF MOMA. The Lorraine Hansberry Theatre gave me the opportunity to put my organizational skills to work. It had been over a decade since I had graduated from the University of Georgia with a B.A. degree in Drama, which preceded my B.A. in Journalism. I had done absolutely nothing in the Drama arena and Quentin Easter held my hand as I got back into the drama circle serving as a board member. He made it painless for me and I was finally paying homage to my roots.
Sweet Quentin. I am silenced by the fact that I will not hear his melodic voice again. Every time Quentin spoke it was as if he were about to deliver a dramatic monologue. There was a high pitch to his voice at least to my ear and he would reach those highs and lows modulating his voice because he loved the melody of language. Sweet Quentin, he always knew how to bring harmony to any situation. I remember my first time trying to quit the board as I handed him two drawers full of files of the work I had done with the theater. "Oh, Jackie, we're family. You can't quit. I'm not accepting these. You, just think about it and let's get back to work." He sounded as if he were singing a song weaving in incredulity, the call to action, and love.
Regrettably, I won't be able to get back to work with
Quentin. But in support of the
Lorraine Hansberry Theatre, I ask that you send a donation to the theater to
help ensure the work will go on. Send your tax-deductible contribution to the
Lorraine Hansberry Theatre at 777 Jones St., San Francisco, CA 94109 or Click Here. As Quentin and I often
discussed when I served on the board, the work of the Lorraine Hansberry
Theatre is beyond the Black community in San Francisco and the Bay Area. It has a larger place in space and time. San Francisco is a point of world
destination.
The Lorraine
Hansberry Theatre gives voice to the Black experience in America not only for
the Black community but for other cultures as well. The Lorraine Hansberry Theatre is an environment where
Blacks, Whites, Latinos, Asians and cultures from around the world can see a
splice of life as told by Black people.
It's important for Black people to tell their own stories without the
distortion of media stereotypes.
It is important for Black people to hear their noble tales from their
own voices and not become brainwashed in believing the negative that is
spouted out by most media. It's
important for non-Black decision makers who too easily decide "this is all they
deserve," to hear something other than the negative drone from media that
falsely justifies their decisions for predatory lending, toxic-living
conditions, failing school systems, institutional racism and modern day
colonial type non-profits that are to save Blacks but just further enslave. Quentin was a strong advocate for equality and social justice, but his strong voice always advocated love. He spoke the truth in love. He was mentor to all around him to speak forthrightly but with love for all.
The Lorraine Hansberry Theatre is multicultural in its employment of actors, technicians, writers and directors. The Lorraine Hansberry Theatre gave voice for artists like Danny Glover and gave us access to talent like playwright, the late August Wilson, and Grand Dame of Black Theater Ruby Dee whom I met at the Lorraine Hansberry Theatre. Over dinner one evening at the Westin St. Francis, Ms. Dee encouraged me to write a play about Charles Drew and his work through the Red Cross that helped save thousands of lives during World War II. And as I think about what became the perennial Black Nativity, the Lorraine Hansberry Theatre gave many young people, including my niece, singer, Candis Wright, the opportunity to have their first stage experience. Young Asian playwright Prince Gomolvilas' "Bee" is just the tip of the iceberg of stories of the Lorraine Hansberry's assistance to young talent.
I will miss Quentin's voice in the conversation to create a universal artistic calendar that would coordinate the work of struggling Black artistic groups to garner corporate and community support I had just talked about convening with a City of San Francisco administrator. I originally voiced the thought of the conversation with the Executive Director of the African American Shakespeare Company, Sherri Young, in the late '90's as we road along 101 to San Jose one summer evening. It's been on hold too long and now yet another San Francisco artistic trailblazer has been silenced before our gathering of hearts and minds.
Quentin Easter, Executive Director of the Lorraine Hansberry Theatre, a Princeton University graduate, a man of conscious, determination, artistic fervor, who loved helping up and coming actors and artists, will be sorely missed. No one will be able to fill his shoes; but to the one who picks up the mantle to work with Artistic Director, Stanley Williams to continue the legacy of the Lorraine Hansberry Theatre, much success to you and Godspeed.
To the Lorraine Hansberry Theatre Artistic Director, Stanley
Williams, the Board of Directors, past and present and to the friends and
supporters, and Quentin's family in Baltimore, I extend condolences. You, along with Quentin, Sweet Quentin
are in my thoughts and prayers. I can only offer you the best
of words, He will live among them, and they
will be his people, and God himself will be with them. He will wipe away every
tear from their eyes, and death will not exist any more - or mourning, or
crying, or pain, for the former things have ceased to exist, (Revelation 21).