LIFE IS BUT A FLEETING BREATH
Life is but a fleeting breath, A span of time allotted man, Then comes the frigid hand of death, To claim the precious gift again.
Life is short, but very dear, Above all else in each man’s heart: And often time we shed a tear, Because we know we must depart.
We wonder where, we wonder why, The ones who’ve died have gone. To someplace distant in the sky. A celestial eternal home?
It matters not which course death takes, There’s one thing that’s for sure: Someday our lives will terminate. That fact we must endure.
But inevitable though our fate may be, That need not be a source of woe: Rather we should strive to see, The precious gift we’ve been bestowed.
And when we see that we’ve been blessed, We’ll greet each passing of each day: And take the time to do our best, To help someone along the way.
@1960 Fletcher H. Wiley
Shortridge High School Indianapolis, IN
CELEBRATION OF LIFE – FLETCHER “FLASH” WILEY
FRIDAY, MARCH 7, 2025
The Berklee Performance Center Boston, MA
PROGRAM
Reverend Liz Walker
Congresswoman Ayanna Pressley
Wayne Budd / Dean Richlin
Ken Chenault / Ted Wells
Flash Bash I & II Video
Yakub Hazzard / Richard Taylor
Jamie Scarborough / Janine Sijan-Rozina
Distinguished Graduate Video
Deborah Jackson / Duane Jackson
Musical Selection: Anika Larsen
B.J. Wiley Williams / Pratt Wiley
Flash’s Final Performance
Please join us immediately following the program.
RECEPTION State Room
60 State Street, Boston, MA
Limited shuttle service will be provided.
In lieu of flowers, the family would like to honor Flash’s memory and legacy with contributions to the Inkwell Society or The Dimock Center. Flash was a long-time supporter of both organizations, and they reflect Flash’s unrelenting commitment to advancing and uplifting the African American community.
“Fletcher ‘Flash’ Wiley, who pushed ‘open doors to rooms we were never in,’ dies at 82”
by Bryan Marquard, Globe Staff
Updated February 8, 2025, 3:05 p.m.
Fletcher Wiley, who with his wife, Benaree Pratt Wiley, formed one of Boston’s most important power couples for diversity and activism, died Thursday in hospice care at Spaulding Hospital in Cambridge. He was 82 and had divided his time between Boston and West Tisbury, on Martha’s Vineyard, after having lived for many years in Brookline.
“He was an innovator,” said his longtime friend Duane Jackson, a managing member for Alinea Capital Partners LLC, a real estate investment company.
“Flash was brilliant and committed to what he did and what he believed,” Jackson said. “He was extraordinarily optimistic and always believed there was a light at the end of the tunnel, regardless of the circumstances and conditions.”
Mr. Wiley was a charter participant in the gifted child program in the Indianapolis schools and initially its only Black pupil.
He went on to become the first Black football player recruited to play at the US Air Force Academy, its fifth Black graduate, and the school’s first Black Fulbright scholar.
In a lifetime of groundbreaking roles, Fletcher “Flash” Wiley went from attending segregated elementary schools in Indianapolis to serving as the first Black chairman of the Greater Boston Chamber of Commerce and becoming one of the city’s most prominent attorneys.
Though known and admired for his gregarious optimism and his disarming, irreverent wit, he was guided by an unending resolve to lead people of color into places where decisions are made.
“I’ve been banging on doors ever since I got to town,”
Mr. Wiley, a cofounder of major law firms, told The Boston Globe in 2020. “Not a day goes by when I don’t do something that tries to advance the positions, either politically or business-wise, of African-Americans in the city of Boston.”
After launching his legal career in Boston, Mr. Wiley cofounded law firms including Budd, Reilly and Wiley, which became the region’s largest minority-dominant firm and a springboard for the careers of his partners — future US attorney Wayne Budd and future state attorney general Thomas Reilly.
Mr. Wiley often focused on economic development initiatives and had “a nose for finding good deals,” Budd said.
“He did things for clients on a very ethical and upscale basis,” Budd said. “Many others would miss the whole point of the deal, and he would find ways to make it happen in a way that was positive not only for the client, but for our firm as well.”
Mr. Wiley, Budd added, also had a talent for quickly turning cantankerous situations into burgeoning friendships. If someone in a negotiation turned combative, “within a minute or two Flash would have them laughing at him or at themselves,” Budd said.
Along with high-level work as a lawyer, Mr. Wiley formerly was director of Boston’s Economic Development Industrial Corp. and had founded and formerly chaired the Governor’s Commission on Minority Business Development.
He also formerly chaired The Dimock Center’s board and helped guide it to become “a premier health center” in Greater
Boston, said Dr. Myechia Minter-Jordan, the center’s former president and chief executive who is now chief executive of AARP.
The two had partnered on a capital campaign that revitalized Dimock’s detox center, whose services are “now a beacon of hope to the Roxbury community and beyond,” she said.
In all he did, Minter-Jordan said, Mr. Wiley had an eye on the future and ensured a deepening impact “that will last a lifetime.”
Fletcher Houston Wiley was born in Chicago on Nov. 29, 1942, the son of Mildred Norton Fleming, a beautician, and Fletcher Wiley, a janitor.
Mr. Wiley’s parents divorced. He was an infant when he and his mother moved to Indianapolis to live with his maternal grandmother, Florence Norton, a nurse at Crispus Attucks High School, the city’s all-Black high school.
His grandmother “was pretty much a stickler for the studies,” he said in a video interview for the Air Force Academy. He was chosen for the gifted child program that “opened new vistas for me. It gave you some vision that you had, maybe, some talents that ought to be developed.”
The congressman for his district did not offer Mr. Wiley an appointment to the academy, which instead mailed him information about a prep school. Dejected, he threw it away.
“My grandmother came home, she pulled it out of the trash can, she looked at it,” he recalled. “She said, ‘Let me make a call.’”
That led to a year at prep school for potential military academy cadets, where a classmate dubbed him “Flash” for his speed on the football field. Admitted to the Air Force Academy, he played football until an injury ended his football days, and then became the chief cheerleader.
After graduating from the academy and spending his Fulbright year studying in France, he was assigned to a project at the Pentagon when he began dating Benaree Pratt, who is known as Bennie.
They married in 1970 and moved to Greater Boston, where she graduated from Harvard Business School and became the founding chief executive of The Partnership, the Boston nonprofit dedicated to promoting and advancing professionals and executives of color and the places where they work.
The couple was often honored, individually and together for their extensive work professionally and in the community. In 2023, the Boston Bar Foundation gave them its annual Public Service Award “for their many years of selfless leadership, philanthropy, and commitment to community service.”
The Wileys had two children. Their daughter, B.J. Wiley Williams, who lives in Arlington, Va., is founder and chief executive of SoHookd, and their son, Pratt Wiley, lives in Boston and is The Partnership’s current president and chief executive.
In addition to his wife, son, and daughter, Mr. Wiley leaves his brother Keith of Chicago. A gathering to celebrate his life and work will be announced.
For all his professional accomplishments, he was always equally known for his love of his family.
“I’ve said this before, that it’s better to be born lucky than good,” Mr. Wiley’s son said. “And both my sister and I recognize how lucky we were to have grown up and lived in a family where we’ve had a role model of what it means to be a father, a husband, a partner, a fighter — someone who brings joy and humor to everything he does, while at the same time is fiercely committed to helping those who are less fortunate, and helping those who are facing difficulty, and helping those who are in need.” And that, Pratt said, “is the greatest legacy that any child could ever ask for.”
Initially it came as heartbreaking news when Fletcher Wiley didn’t receive an appointment to the United States Air Force Academy on his first attempt. “I was so dejected in not getting the appointment outright,” he remembers. He threw the rejection letter in the garbage, even though the correspondence included an offer to attend the USAFA Prep School Program for a year instead. His grandmother, who raised Wiley in Indianapolis, Indiana, during the emerging Civil Rights era, fished the letter out of the trash and read its contents. She promptly called a Tuskegee Airman she knew and asked him to stop by the house to answer questions about the Prep School opportunity.
“He told me the Air Force Academy wants you, but they have to send you through this system because they have other ways of getting you into the Academy,” Wiley recalls.
“My grandmother convinced me...I did it for her.” As his high school friends headed off to college, Wiley says he wasn’t thrilled to attend a preparatory program. “I was a little embarrassed,” he admits. But fortunately it all worked out in the end, Wiley says, as he joined the vaunted Class of 1965 the following summer in Colorado Springs. “I came to love the Air Force Academy and what it did for me.”
A FLASH IS BORN
AIR FORCE ACADEMY
1964-74
As an athlete, he gained the nickname “Flash,” and in 1965, became the fifth African American graduate of the Air Force Academy and the Academy’s first Black Fulbright Scholar. Upon graduation from the Academy, Wiley headed to L’lnstitut Des Etudes Politiques in Paris on a Fulbright Scholarship. During that year, he studied old colonial empires and how they differed in their approach to ruling their territories or colonies.
“It was an illuminating experience,” he suggests. “I met people from all over the world - Russians, Chinese, Vietnamese, Africans, Frenchmen - to get a general understanding of what people my age from those countries were thinking about.”
When he returned to the States, Wiley joined the Air Force Office of Special Investigations (OSI). “It was at a time that James Bond was very popular,” he explains. “So, some of us became interested in getting involved in intelligence. We didn’t fully understand that the OSI was more like a detective, crime-solving and intelligence-gathering police force organization along the lines of the FBI rather than being like 007.” After that initial assignment, Wiley was sent to the Pentagon to help conduct a special study focused on how the military had racially integrated well ahead of American society. In 1974, following his service as a captain in the U.S. Air Force, he received his M.P.P. degree from Harvard University’s Kennedy School of Government and his J.D. degree from Harvard Law School.
PARIS, FULBRIGHT SCHOLARSHIP, PENTAGON
BENAREE PRATT WILEY & FLETCHER HOUSTON WILEY GET MARRIED
Wiley launched his legal career with the Boston office of the Fine & Ambrogne law firm, where he learned the basics of his profession. A short time later, he and fellow colleagues launched Budd, Reilly and Wiley, one of the nation’s largest and most renowned minority-owned law firms. From 1975-76, he served as the third President of the Massachusetts Black Lawyers Association (MBLA).
The MBLA later created the Fletcher “Flash” Wiley MBLA Legacy Scholarship Award in his honor, to support the development of students who “display academic and professional excellence...and exhibit a commitment
to diversity and inclusion through leadership and volunteerism.” He was a founding member of the Black Alumni Association of both Harvard Law School and Harvard Kennedy School, and he founded the Governor’s Commission on Minority and Business Development in 1984. In 1996, he joined PRWT Services, Inc., as vice president and general counsel; by the time he retired from employment with PRWT in 2008, he’d helped build the company into one of the nation’s largest minorityowned businesses and Black Enterprise Magazine 2009 “Company of the Year.”
BUDD, REILLY AND WILEY
BENAREE (B.J.) MILDRED WILEY IS BORN
PRATT NORTON WILEY IS BORN
PRATT GRADUATES
In 2006 Pratt Norton Wiley received his JD from Boston College Law School in Boston, Massachusetts. In 2019 Pratt became the President and CEO of The Partnership, Inc., New England’s premier organization dedicated to enhancing the competitiveness of the region by attracting, developing, retaining and convening multicultural professionals. During its 33 year history, The Partnership has collaborated with 500 corporations who have sponsored 4,668 multicultural executives and professionals in the organization’s innovative leadership development programming. Previously, Pratt served as the National Director of Voter Expansion for the Democratic National Committee, where he was responsible for designing and executing the DNC’s program to ensure that every eligible voter was able to register and vote, and that every vote was accurately counted, from 2013-2017. The Voter Expansion program served the political arm to President Barack Obama by supporting Democratic candidates, campaigns, state parties and progressive organizations in all 50 states through the development of tools, resources, and networks dedicated to advancing voting rights.
Benaree (B.J.) Mildred Wiley married Leslie Howard Williams in 2015. The couple met in 1996 at the University of Virginia, from which they graduated. B.J. is founder & Chief Executive Officer of SoHookd, an enterprise wellness platform. She founded SoHookd with the mission to inspire healthy lifestyles and unlock access to wellness for all. SoHookd is focused on closing the wellness equity gap by making wellness more accessible and affordable, without sacrificing desirability. She is a certified wellnessnerd and fitness fanatic with 20+ years of experience working in the wellness, hospitality, and private equity industries. B.J. is a venture-backed entrepreneur, has received numerous awards, and has served on several nonprofit boards. She received a B.A. in History from the University of Virginia and an M.B.A. from Harvard Business School.
B.J. GETS MARRIED
UNITED STATES AIR FORCE ACADEMY DISTINGUISHSED GRADUATE AWARD
For his many contributions to the community, Wiley was inducted into the Chamber of Commerce’s “Academy of Distinguished Bostonians” in 2010. In 2011, he was named by U.S. Secretary of Defense Robert Gates to the Board of Visitors of The Air University; and in 2012, President Barack Obama appointed him to the Board of Visitors of the U.S. Air Force Academy. In 2012, he received Honorary Doctorates from Cambridge College and New England School of Law. Flash was a member of the Bars of the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and District of Columbia, and belonged to the American, National, and Massachusetts Bar Associations.
In 2020, Flash was named a “Distinguished Graduate.” The United States Air Force Academy (USAFA) and the USAFA Association of Graduates (AOG) have established the Distinguished Graduate Award. Each year the award is presented by the Superintendent (HQ USAFA/CC) and the Chairman of the AOG to a USAFA graduate(s), whose lifetime of achievement is of such significance as to set them apart from their contemporaries–an award only offered to exceptional graduates who have made extraordinary contributions to their community and the nation.
BOSTON CHAMBER OF COMMERCE ACADEMY OF DISTINGUISED BOSTONIANS
When you wake up early in the morning.
Feelin’ sad like so many of us do.
Hum a little soul, make life your goal. Surely something’s got to come to you.
And say it’s all right.
Say it’s all right.
It’s all right, have a good time.
‘Cause it’s all right, whoa, it’s all right.
–Curtis Mayfield
FLASH BASH I 50TH BIRTHDAY
But you brighten up for me all of my days with a love so sweet in so many ways, I want to stop and thank you baby, I just want to stop and thank you baby. How sweet it is to be loved by you, feels so fine. How sweet it is to be loved by you.
– Marvin Gaye
LETTER WRITTEN BY SHARON PRATT ON THE OCCASION OF FLASH BASH II
January, 2023
Dear Flash,
I decided to write you because we go through life with heartfelt sentiments we too often fail to share with loved ones.
On the night of the Flash Bash I, I thought what a wonderful tribute for so many people from so many different corridors of life to happily gather to celebrate the 60th anniversary of your birth. Whether new friends or friends from years ago, each and all happily gathered to share your wonderfully orchestrated “Do-wop” night of entertainment. It was spectacular. It was so much fun. Indeed, I arrived wondering how you could possibly match or surpass your 50th celebration. While I will always cherish the “undiscovered talent” you showcased on the occasion of your 50th birthday, The Flash Bash for your 60th was every bit as spectacular – and possibly more so.
Flash, you have achieved a great deal in your life –academically and professionally. You and Bennie have become cornerstones of the Boston community.
However, as we celebrate your 60th, I knew your greatest achievement (with the help of a very remarkable woman named Bennie) is having a Wonderful Life. Your life has touched so many, so warmly, in so many special ways – we all instinctively smile when we mention the name “Flash.” Arrington did us all a great deed when he facilitated your becoming a part of our family.
Interestingly, Arrington’s favorite movie is the one starring Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed entitled, “It’s a Wonderful Life.” As you may recall, George Bailey (Jimmy Stewart) considers taking his life when he falsely believes the family and the town’s savings and loan may go bankrupt. He thinks back on all of his youthful dreams – and has the false impression he has not attained those dreams.
And then an “Angel in Training” shows him just what “A Wonderful Life” he has had. The town would not have been “the town” had it not been for George Bailey. Everyone in the town would not have known the success they enjoyed had it not been for George and Mary Bailey.
We go through life in search of great achievements: great honor, great distinction, great wealth, etc. (In many ways, we all have been blessed to have attained some of all.) However, in truth there is no achievement quite as great as being a fine, decent, wonderful human being.
As I watched your magnificent Flash Bash, I (like everyone in the audience) was warmly smiling – so happy to have been a part of your evening, so happy to have been a part of your wonderful life. So while these teachings are still fresh in my thoughts (and before I become irate again with you because of one of our usual discussions or debates), I wanted you to know how proud and pleased I am to be a part of your “Wonderful Life.”
Love, Sharon
FLASH’S 75th PLAYLIST
39. Just My Imagination 40. Love Train 41. The Cisco Kid
42. Do You Wanna Dance 43. Bennie & The Jets 44. Midnight Train To Georgia 45. Let’s Get It On 46. You Make Me Feel Brand New
Sadie
Easy 49. After The Love Has Gone 50. Shake 51. Cruisin’
52. It’s All Right
53. Endless Love
54. If This World Were Mine
55. A House Is Not A Home
56. Since I Lost My Baby
57. Sexual Healing
58. You’re So Fine
59. When Doves Cry 60. Adore
61. In The Mood
62. Work It
63. The Secret Garden
64. I Wanna Sex You Up
65. Baby Hold On To Me
66. Baby I’m For Real
67. Beautiful Maria Of My Soul
68. I’ll Make Love To You
69. I Believe I Can Fly
70. Dance With My Father
71. How Sweet It Is
72. Ordinary People
73. The Lazy Song
74. I’m Not The Only One
75. Pretty Wings
SELECT TRIBUTES UPON THE PASSING OF FLASH WILEY
A GIANT has fallen. And the reverberations and tremors will be felt for the ages. So many of us have been blessed to have been in Flash’s orbit at some point during our lives. The US Air Force Academy. Harvard. The Boston business, legal, philanthropic, political, civic and fraternal communities. And, of course, the Vineyard!! We owe Bennie, B.J. and Pratt so much for so unselfishly sharing Flash with so many who sought his guidance and craved his friendship.
We all have SO many fond memories of Flash. Nothing brought a smile to my face quicker than caller ID alerting me to an incoming call from Flash. And no one could bottle up their laughter when watching Bennie and Flash run Bostons on self-described bid whist experts. Everyone admired the amazing love and respect that they held for each other whether playing cards on the Vineyard or breaking ground and leading on behalf of others in Boston. Bennie was often quiet but confident. Flash was loud, occasionally profane and confident. But above all else, Flash was the epitome of ebullience because optimism defined his very core….Today’s Boston Globe captures a life well lived and a lifetime of contributions! Please soak it in, lower your flag to half-mast and give our dear brother, husband, father, scholar and patriot a 21-gun salute.
–Bill and Carol Lewis
There’s so much I want to express beyond my sadness. The family the two of you forged is a model to be emulated. The romance you shared is a story worth chronicling for the ages. It would make a great movie, which Flash would have certainly loved to star in, cast, and direct. I read the Globe story. I thought it was nice, but it seems to miss the plot particularly against the backdrop of our present political travails. Flash was all of the things the piece cites but he was more, which is why we need to be mindful of the entire legacy he leaves. He was a warrior. While his larger than life personality was impossible to ignore he was no “flash.” I met Flash as a result of his successful representation of Harvard Medical School black students in their claim of discriminatory treatment by the Medical School. A Harvard man taking on Harvard. Not succumbing to fear and showing no favor. I would get to know Flash better through his grassroots activism in the support of those seeking better educational opportunity in Boston to doing voter registration on the street corners of Roxbury, resulting in a dramatically changed political landscape in the city of Boston. He would DO whatever needed to be done to make the city, Commonwealth, and country better. We are now in an era that will indeed “try our souls.” If the current generation can emulate the example he set, we will wind up in a better place. As he is memorialized over the coming days, please remind
them he was not just a “civic leader” but an agent for change. He did not simply achieve enormous status, but he was a fierce opponent of the status quo. While his effervescent personality commanded everyone’s attention, it was his workmanlike tenacity that made the difference. I count it a blessing that I got to know him, and it was a supreme honor to call him a friend.
–Ambassador Charles R. Smith
Flash is forever a superhero to me–possessing the superpower of joy and spirit and positivity and love for life that helped bring light to the darkest moments and special energy to every celebration. He is the coolest, funniest, most genuinehe is the best.
Because of Flash, my life and my family were made better. I cannot think of anyone I want to spend each day paying tribute to more than Flash. I’ll try to dance and sing more and think of him, and I’ll try to show more love like he would, and I’ll attempt to possess a little bit more love for life in each action in honor of the man who had so much of it. Thank you for sharing Flash with all of us. With all my love to you, Pratt, and B.J..
–Wyatt Ferber
When I learned this morning that Flash’s angel wings took him to his well-earned eternal rest, I reflected on his incredible legacy and the profound impact he had on me as I started my career in municipal banking after business school. In the mid to late 80s, many of my banking assignments brought me home to Boston to work on municipal bond financings for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and other state agencies.
In these early days, I remember the pressure of leading meetings with lawyers representing Boston’s establishment law firms and my determination to prove my value as a banker. And by divine intervention, Flash was there in the role of issuers or underwriters counsel and he supported me in rooms where I was a novice. My fondest memories were of Flash entering a meeting with his commanding presence and then providing input to issues that were challenging to resolve. He validated my presence and input and gave me a masterclass in confidence and leadership. What a privilege it was to be in his presence! The gift he gave me was “you got this, homegirl, and I have your back.” Thank you Flash! “May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.” With sympathy and affection.
–Michelle Morris Weston
A Tribute to Fletcher “Flash” Wiley
The world has lost a luminary, a man whose presence lit up rooms, whose voice could rival the Temptations, and whose wisdom and wit guided so many of us through the highs and lows of life.
Fletcher “Flash” Wiley was more than an exceptional attorney–he was a friend, a mentor, a confidant, and a source of endless joy. His passing leaves a void that can never truly be filled, but his legacy will endure in the countless lives he touched.
Flash was the kind of person who could break into song with that perfect smile, turning any gathering into a concert, making us all swoon and laugh in equal measure. And oh, the look on Bennie’s face when he sang–her expression of deep love and amusement was a sight to behold.
You could almost hear her silently say, “Oh, Flash, I love you!” Their love and partnership were as inspiring as his legal brilliance and charm.
On a personal note, like thousands of others, I am heartbroken at the loss of Flash. His life, and the way he lived it–with integrity, humor, and an unshakable sense of justice–will be remembered forever. Beyond his sheer mastery of the law as one of our most distinguished attorneys, I cherished Flash’s (sometimes irreverent) sense of humor. He had a way of reining me in when I was ready to
raise hell over perceived injustices.
I recall one particular instance when I was convinced that the landlord of my upscale office building was deliberately keeping my minority-owned business out of sight on the fifth floor, rather than allowing me to rent a more prominent suite on the Sky Lobby level. Frustrated and ready to fight, I called Flash, my trusted company lawyer, and told him I wanted to sue. Without missing a beat, he laughed and quipped, “You don’t have enough money to sue the landlord.” That was Flash–direct, wise, and always with a touch of humor. Instead of indulging my anger, he helped me craft a winning strategy that eventually led to me securing the space I wanted.
Because of Flash’s guidance, my business flourished for decades, employing many people and making a lasting impact on our community.
Flash Wiley’s contributions extended far beyond the courtroom. He was a force for good, a beacon of excellence, and a man whose influence will be felt for generations to come. His laughter, his wisdom, and his song will echo in our hearts forever.
Rest well, dear Flash. We were all better for knowing you.
–Jane C. Edmonds
You really swept me off my feet, You made my life complete You made my life so bright, You make me feel alright.
– THE TEMPTATIONS
LOVE STORIES: BENNIE & FLASH WILEY
A LIFETIME
By Fletcher H. “Flash” Wiley, 11.23.14
INTRODUCTION
The impetus for this series stems from the largesse and inspiration of our longtime and dear friends, Ken and Kathy Chenault–a married couple who have accomplished so many things in life, both individually, and as a team. If one were to ask them what their greatest accomplishment is thus far, they would undoubtedly, and without hesitation, point to the rearing of their two talented sons, Kenneth and Kevin, whose character and skills they have steadfastly molded into outstanding young citizens. But there are many other achievements as well, as these two have each fed on the energies, talents, aspirations, dedication, and love of the other.
One of the many endeavors the Chenaults have launched and nurtured is an annual summer gathering in Sag Harbor of several black Harvard Law School graduates who were Ken’s contemporaries at law school. While in school, and over the years, the Chenaults have also come to know the spouses of these colleagues; and like themselves, these couples have blazed uniquely dynamic trails together. Because I am a hopeless romantic–and also perhaps because EVERYONE asks the question of me (e.g., “How did you and Bennie get and stay together?”)–I ask that question of everyone else. (Hopefully, I do so without the brazen incredulity with which the question is usually posed of me–as if to inquire why a woman of such intelligence, grace, beauty, charm, and wit would GET and STAY with me!) The answers have always been absolutely unique and fascinating; and in many instances, the convening circumstances have been
serendipitous. Also, there are almost always two sides to the story–his and hers. It has been a joy to “unravel the mysteries.”
Because the composition of the “law school group” is so special in achievements and marital longevity–because their stories are so very interesting and compelling–and because (as our duty to our tribal legacy) it is important to write these things down–I volunteered to tell the Wileys’ love story as a stimulation, and a template, for the other couples to do the same. Hopefully, we can end up with a compilation that will not only be a tribute to the catalytic example inspired by the Chenaults, but also a legacy document for our families and all African-American people.
WHEN & HOW WE MET
As with many other important aspects of my life, my introduction to Bennie was the direct result of my matriculation at the Air Force Academy. In mid-August of 1963, when I returned to the Academy from summer vacation to begin my junior year, I made my customary rounds to meet all of the newly-entered black cadets from the Class of ‘67. (My class of brothers customarily mentored all the brothers behind us–and, besides, I was looking for a good tenor to join my doo-wop group.) It was under those circumstances that I met Arrington Dixon, 4 days my junior, who had attended Howard University for 3 years before entering the Air Force Academy. (This was not an unusual scenario given the highly-prized nature of Academy appointments back then.) Being a fellow Sagittarian, Arrington and I became immediate friends; and as is the case when one is cloistered in a monastic environment
with limited outside contact, we learned the intimate details of each other’s backgrounds in fairly short order. On his bookshelf, Arrington proudly displayed a color 8x10 photo of his fiancee, Sharon Pratt–a talented and beautiful 3rd generation Washingtonian whom he had left behind at Howard in their Class of ‘65. We all teased Arrington about the fact that when he finally returned to D.C. a year later, Sharon would be long-gone with a guy named “Jody.’’
Then a very strange and unusual thing happened. Early that fall semester, we Upperclassmen got the word that - unlike their predecessors, who stayed at the Academy for a year before they were allowed to go home–the Class of ‘67 was starting a new tradition wherein they were allowed to go home for Christmas. “Lucky Arrington,” we all thought; and as we gathered to congratulate him, he invited us to a “big party’’ in D.C. over the holidays. The party was D.C.’s version of the Debutante Ball–i.e., the “coming out” of high school senior girls from prominent families throughout the District–replete with formal gowns and tuxedoed escorts. While the high school girls did not interest us (we called them “jail bait”), Arrington assured us that there would be an ample supply of “Post Debs” like Sharon there, i.e., alumnae of the Event. And so, when Christmas rolled around, we packed our “ladykiller’’ Mess Dress outfits, headed for home for a few days, and then to D.C. for the Ball and ensuing party. We appeared at the lateDecember event and were fawned-over by the young women and parents as expected, just like the brothers present from West Point and Annapolis.
While there, we met Sharon; and because of our soul-baring chats with Arrington at the Academy, it seemed like we had always known her. She was an attractive, intelligent, gracious, classy, and verbally gifted lady; and we became immediate friends. We also met Sharon’s proud father, Attorney Carlisle Pratt, and her debuting sister all gussied-up in white, Benaree–a cute, tall, light-skinned (“high-yellow” in the vernacular of the day), browneyed, freckled-face high school kid. We congratulated “Bennie” (as she was called) on her debut, and then we went about our business of wooing (successfully, I might add) some of the post-debs.
I should mention at this juncture that while my first encounter with Bennie was vivid in my mind at the time and thereafter, she doesn’t remember meeting me specifically at all–just some friends of Arrington’s in some nice, flashy outfits. Intellectually, I can understand that she had a lot going on that special evening–a night surrounded by a lot of hullabaloo and wonder–and my brief intrusion into the proceedings was small indeed in comparison to everything else. Still, my ego remains somewhat pinched by the realization that I did not make a greater impression on her.
WHEN & HOW WE STARTED DATING
Bennie is 3.5 years younger than me; and in our early lives, that spread made a difference. Briefly, I graduated from the Academy in 1965, went to Paris for a year on an Fulbright, returned to D.C. (my alltime favorite city) as my next Air Force assignment, went from there to Korea for most of 1969, resigned from the Air Force in December 1969, and returned to D.C. for 9 months to await my admission to
Harvard Law School in September 1970. Along the way, including high school loves I left behind, I had many, many romances. I was like a honeybee flitting from flower to flower, sampling the nectar of each when I could, and eschewing any notion of settling exclusively on any. However, once I left the Air Force to get on with the rest of my life, I began entertaining ideas of settling down (my already being the last one of my high school and college groups to do so). Accordingly, when I came back from Korea, a young lady whom I had met over there from Sweden joined me; and she and I lived together and entertained notions of marriage.
Bennie attended Howard from 1964-1968–pivotal years in the history of the University and the nation. She had a full campus life there, academically (where she was a business major) and socially; and she enjoyed a smaller number of, but decidedly more serious, relationships with the opposite sex than I did at her age. She was an active member of Delta Sigma Theta, and also the Kappa Sweetheart. From 1966 when I returned from Paris, through 1968 before I went to Korea, I used to see Bennie here and there on a regular basis. First, she was a staple at the home of Arrington and Sharon (who had gotten married by that time), where she joined me and others working on Arrington’s political campaigns. Also, when Sharon became pregnant with their first child in early 1968, Bennie was there to help her sister cope with her bodily changes even as she worked hard to get her husband elected. Accordingly, I’d see her at the Dixons’ home from time to time. I also used to see her on Howard’s campus inasmuch as my Air Force work took me there to do background checks on various applicants for security clearances. One of my fondest memories is one of passing her on the stairs in one of the
Howard buildings–her going up to class, and me going down to where the Air Force ROTC Unit kept its records. We cordially spoke as we passed each other; and then, perhaps out of naughty reflex more than anything else, I glanced up the stairs as she ascended and I descended, and caught a glimpse up her flowing skirt and the big pretty legs sequestered beneath. It was a treat I shall always fondly and passionately remember!
We worked Arrington’s campaign through the first week of November, 1968; and at the end of the month, Sharon gave birth to their first child, Aimee. I left D.C. a month later for Korea. During the time that I was in Washington, I saw Bennie a lot at the Dixons; and it was always cordial, but never romantic. Indeed, I treated her with the utmost respect as Sharon’s younger sister; and I never thought about or made an effort to date her. The Dixons knew all too well where my head was in terms of chasing casual sexual encounters, but avoiding serious relationships; and I did not wish to sully Bennie’s reputation or tarnish my friendship with the Dixons by asking Bennie to hang with me.
When I returned from Korea with my Swedish girlfriend, lngun, on the way, I had some serious reservations about being able to “make it” marriage-wise with a white girl. I canvassed all of my friends, including most especially the Dixons (the most civil people I knew). When lngun arrived in January, I’d take her periodically by their house to see if she could “fit in.” Bennie was often there too because she was fascinated by her new niece. To their credit, the Dixons and Bennie were all cordial and polite to my girlfriend; but I nevertheless soon arrived at the conclusion that–irrespective of the race issue–she and I were just not going to work out. So we jointly made the decision to go our separate ways in March 1970, though we continued to briefly live together for convenience’s sake while she made arrangements to move to San Francisco. I announced the decision to my friends–all of whom seemed to be visibly relieved.
Following college in 1968, Bennie had gone to work for IBM–back then, one of America’s most prominent companies to work for; and she was among the first women there who did product demonstrations to prospective customers. The “gold-standard” for corporate behavior, IBM often hosted Company-sponsored social events to inspire team development. Invited to one of these dinners in April 1970, and perhaps feeling that her regular cadre of male companions would not necessarily be suitable for a Company gathering, Bennie sought out the advice of her sister; and to my everlasting good fortune, Sharon suggested me! (She correctly figured–since I was formerly an officer and a gentleman -that I would at least know which fork to use.) Bennie followed her sister’s advice and asked me to escort her; and as a favor to Sharon, and also as a big brother who did not wish to undermine the confidence and faith that Sharon and Arrington
reposed in me, I accepted, knowing that I would be expected to conduct myself properly. I did; Bennie and I had a great time getting to really know each other as people; and we’ve been together ever since!
WHEN & HOW WE CAME TO MARRY
Before I knew Bennie, I knew several members of her family; and they were folks whose company and wisdom I customarily sought out. Consequently, I was already familiar with, and respectful of, who she was and where she came from. Like her sister, she was attractive, intelligent, charming, classy, witty, erudite, etc. That was the general. The specifics were that our world and community views and aspirations were in sync–and she laughed at my jokes!
As I indicated, we went to an IBM engagement in April of 1970; and after that night, I asked what she was doing the next night. And so it went–night after night. I just couldn’t get enough of her! We talked about all types of things; and early-on, it became clear that a most-serendipitous and wonderful thing had happened: I had
been admitted to Harvard Law School in September, and she had been admitted to Harvard Business School in September. As it became clearer and clearer that we were going to be spending a lot of time together in Boston, we talked about living together and getting to know each other better–all with the idea that it would lead to something more permanent. We recognized that we were not yet “in love,” but quickly falling in that direction.
Bennie left IBM in June to prepare for her move to HBS. Earlier that year, she had planned a 3-week trip to Europe in June with a couple of friends; and just before she left, we agreed to live together in Boston when she returned. I sent her on her way; and then feeling that I ought to prepare her family for our co-habitation decision, I decided to brief her father on our plans. HOWEVER, before I faced his anticipated wrath, I decided to run the matter by Arrington and Sharon, and get their advice and support. So, I went to the house, asked them to be seated, and told them I wanted to discuss a serious matter with them. They were all eyes (saucer size) and ears. They knew the courtship was going well because Bennie and I were out together every night (but not “overnight” since she was staying with her grandmother to save money for Harvard). I nevertheless meticulously explained how well things were going, and how much we both looked forward to being together in Boston. Given the fact that we had only been dating for two months, we had enthusiastically decided to take the next step of living together to cement our compatibility and commitment. I expected the Dixons to be ecstatic over the news of our progression towards a more-permanent relationship.
I was wrong–dead wrong! The more I talked, the deeper the furrow in Sharon’s brow became. I finished my pitch by saying
that I wanted to discuss the matter with Sharon’s father; and I was soliciting their support in helping me to convince him that this was a sound and positive approach. I paused (“Ta-Da”), and waited for the warm rush of congratulations and support. Instead, a hush fell over the proceedings, Arrington and Sharon looked at each other with disappointment and resolve, and finally, Sharon spoke to me. She expressed joy that things were working out between Bennie and me, but then she followed with expressions of her own disapproval of us living together–let alone her father’s. “Have you ever considered marriage?,” she asked; and not quite believing her serious, I stated that yes we had, but at the correct point when the relationship had matured–a state of mind that living together would bring us to.
Sharon then quickly retorted by saying “Well, I know my sister; and if she has agreed to live with you, it’s going to be like being married for her anyway!” Dumbfounded and numb, I sat down to think. “Like being married,” I thought. “Wow!”
I excused myself and went home to think. I hadn’t thought through all of the constraints of living together; but I damn sure knew what the fetters of matrimony were. I had not equated the two states of being in my mind; but as I thought more and more about it, the only difference was the ease with which one could get out of living together in case things didn’t work out. And then I thought, “Hey, EVERYBODY in your family has been married and divorced at least twice!
What’s the big deal? Bennie’s a reasonable woman - she’ll easily let you out of the situation if things don’t work out.” I started to get comfortable with the idea; and then it started appealing to me–even though I
did not yet “hear the bells ringing or smell the roses” (sure signs of love, as the legend goes). Eager to share my decision with the Dixons, I gave them a call; and they were both excited for us and the prospect of having me in the family.
Bennie called me in the middle of her European excursion to tell me she missed me and that she was coming back early. That news made me feel even better about my decision; and I couldn’t wait for her return so that I could “pop the question” and see the look of joy in her eyes! I was set to pick her up at the airport on Saturday, July 4th; and I told the Dixons of my plan. The anointed day finally rolled around, I picked her up at Dulles Airport, we hugged, and then began the long trip back to the District where I planned on making my move. I told her the whole story: how I wanted to discuss living together with her father and the rest of the family; how I sought out support from Arrington and Sharon; how they rebuffed my living together notions and raised the “M” word; and how I processed the notion. Then, without a whole lot of fanfare or romantic preparation, I announced to Bennie my conclusion that we should get married–with the understanding, of course, that if it didn’t work out, we’d amicably deconstruct our union. I allowed that while our relationship had perhaps not yet ripened to the “bells and whistles” stage, we hoped and expected it would do so and that we’d end up being married anyway. “So let’s take a risk on ourselves now,” I said, “and save the family some aggravation.” I indicated that I had shared my plan with the Dixons; and then I finished my spiel and smugly awaited the onrush of surprise, gratitude, and joy I knew was coming. After all, I reasoned, she was getting a pretty good catch!
Seconds, and then minutes, went by in
silence; and as I became more and more uncomfortable and worried that she hadn’t properly heard me, I blurted out “I said I think we should get married.” Quietly–calmly–she replied “I heard what you said, and I’m thinking about it.” “Thinking about it!” I said to myself: “Why aren’t you turning cartwheels?”
But so as to not lose my cool, I calmly told her to take her time; and before I knew it, we had arrived at her grandmother’s home where she would stay for the evening and regale her grandmother and aunt with stories of her European escapades.
After making sure she was settled for the evening, I announced that I would pick her up mid-day on Sunday to visit Sharon (who by then was pregnant again), Arrington, and little Aimee; and then I returned to my apartment. On the way home, I went over the day’s activities in my head and tried to figure out where I went wrong.
I picked her up the next day as planned; and I vowed not to say anything about my proposal the day before until she did. We politely chit-chatted about nothing important (at least, nothing involving our future) on the 15-minute drive to her
sister’s; and they met us as we walked in the door. Their eyes and faces were as eager in anticipation as a 5-year-old’s on Christmas Morn. The Dixons knew that I was going to propose to Bennie the day before; and apparently, she had not been any more interested in updating them than I was. So, we had barely taken our seats on their couch when Sharon blurted out to Bennie, “So, have you guys decided on anything yet?” Then Bennie–without first having said anything to me–calmly and happily told her sister that yes, we had decided to get married. Sharon then inquired as to when we were going to do it, and Arrington jumped up, grabbed a calendar off the wall, scanned the contents, and proudly announced that Friday was a good day; and Friday, July 10, 1970 it was! We got married before 40 family and guests in the Dixons’ home; the preacher was a part-timer who worked at the U.S. Post Office; and we drove off to Boston the very next day to find an apartment on our honeymoon.
SOME OF THE IMPORTANT MILESTONES IN OUR MARRIAGE
The Growing Friendship. To allay her concerns during my proposal, I told Bennie two things: First, we would look at our marriage as a “one-day-at-atime” proposition. While all of the official marriage vows emphatically stated “forever and ever”–a lifetime proposition–that notion was scary to two people who had only been dating for 3 months at the time they got married. I assured her that we’d take things slowly and grow into the relationship. The second thing I told her is that no matter what happens to our marriage–because things sometimes don’t work out for two good people who
have come together–she would always be my friend whose intellect, wisdom, and reasonableness I respected. That much I had learned about her in our 3 months together; and it only got better and better over the years! I know in some quarters, it is trite to say that my spouse is my best friend; but over the years, as we built up many poignant and pivotal moments together–and as we relied on each other for guidance and support–she became my very best friend–despite (or perhaps because of) the fact that she knows me better than anyone else. I like to think that I am that rock of support and font of wisdom for her as well. We are friends who continue to make our way together in the world one-day-at-a-time, but who have built a reservoir of shared lifetime experiences to illuminate the road.
Selecting a Home. The first big crossroad in our marriage was deciding where we were going to permanently live. The issue presented itself after we had been married over three years, and I was finishing up my joint program in Law and Public Policy at Harvard’s Law and Kennedy Schools. (Bennie had completed her MBA at Harvard Business School in 1972, and taken a job in management consulting at Cambridge’s prestigious and fashionable Abt Associates, Inc. to await my graduation two years hence.) We had never discussed the matter before or after we had married; but I had always assumed that we would live in my “world’s favorite city,” Washington, D.C. –particularly since I married a girl from there and we had many family (on her side) and friends already residing there. Indeed, I absolutely loved her family! We visited there all of the time; and I was enticed by the home-rule politics that Arrington and Sharon were seriously engaged in. But to my great surprise, when the time came to begin making plans, Bennie disclosed to me
that she did not want to live in D.C.–at least, not right away. I thought she was kidding! I said laughingly, “Girl, stop foolin’ around–it’s time to get serious!” “I am serious,” she calmly exclaimed; and she proceeded to tell me that she had grown up in D.C. and gone to college there and, except for our brief schooling in Boston, she had never lived anywhere else. She wanted to try a different place–enjoy a different vibe. And though she thoroughly loved her family, she wanted to break away from the family orb and try doing things on her own. So there it was: our first major disagreement! Still stunned, I nevertheless began thinking about the issue from her side. She had never really traveled the world as I had, nor experienced the independence foisted on me when I graduated from high school. I concluded that if she wanted to try her wings, I would be her wingman; and we’d do it together.
I asked her where she’d like to go; and she said she had no place particular in mind–just not to D.C.; and neither of us wanted to stay in racially-charged Boston. Thus began a long and broad exercise in speculation: East Coast, West Coast, Midwest, South, what? We thought about Atlanta, but we decided folks were already too “set there” to break in on the “haps.” Besides, I still wasn’t crazy about living in the Deep South. That reticence took out Houston, Dallas, New Orleans, and Miami. Bennie said she liked the four seasons, so that eliminated L.A., Phoenix, and Las Vegas (towns she also considered kind of plastic). We talked about Chicago, Indianapolis, and Minneapolis, and decided that the too hot and too cold Midwest was no place for us. She liked San Francisco, but I thought it was too cold and too prone to earthquakes; and we talked about Denver, but we both thought it was too remote. We entertained the possibility that New York City might
be worth a try since Bennie had received some very attractive offers from City-based companies. Accordingly, I took a job in the summer of 1973 with a prestigious NYC law firm, Shearman & Sterling; and indeed, I received and accepted a job there for June 1974. But Abt Associates (where I was also working part-time) offered me a full-time job there when I graduated; and Bennie and I declined the opportunity to live in New York to stay in Cambridge, Massachusetts–another world from Boston. From then on, the Boston-area roots got deeper and deeper–economically, politically, and socially; and Bennie and I together became as two frontiersmen, hand-in-hand and back-to-back, settling and battling on the front lines of multiracial civilization.
In retrospect, looking back over that location decision we made 40 years ago–knowing what I do now–I wish we had settled in some place warm like San Diego. But, at least I’m with her!
Becoming Parents. The second major test of our marriage came in the mid-70s as well; and once again, it was not an issue
we talked about at the time were dating or getting married. Bennie wanted to have children; and I was not too sanguine on the topic. I had an idea how expensive they were; and since she and I had no assets to speak of–only prospects–it was my notion that we wait a few years before bringing someone else in the world to care for. Early on, Bennie was on the pill; and so the discussion was merely academic. However, because some of her reactions to a prolonged period on the pill were not healthy, she came off in 1975; and later that year, she became pregnant. We considered remedial alternatives; and at the precipice of taking the most draconian measure, we had a heart-to-heart talk. She told me through her sobs and tears that she would suB.J.ect herself to the draconian solution if that was my wish, but that she desperately wanted to be a mother, and that if we didn’t do it now, the aftermath would likely impact our life together going forward. It was a very sobering moment–first to see my wife in tears, for she was not often given to such expression–secondly to think of bringing a baby into the world at that particular time–and thirdly to think of life without her. She may remember the moment as being agonizingly long, but to me, it was a simple decision: I chose life with her! Of course, along the way–as have many other matters she has led the way on that have positively impacted my existence–having children has absolutely become one of the very best parts of my life!
The Resident Mother-in-Law. As a business decision because we wanted to participate financially in Boston’s real estate renaissance–as a political decision because we wanted to live and raise our two children in a Black community inside Boston–and as a family decision because we needed more room–we departed our safe and comfortable condo on posh
Beacon Hill and became urban pioneers in a 5-story brownstone we had rehabbed in the Fort Hill Section of Roxbury. We used 3 stories for ourselves, and in the early years, rented out the 2-story, income apartment below.
Circa 1980, when we had been on Fort Hill about two years, my mother called from Indianapolis and explained to me that her 10-year-old fourth marriage was coming apart–that she was getting a divorce–and that she had no one to turn to. Without hesitation, I said let me talk to Bennie, and we will arrange some help. I dreaded the discussion because I wasn’t thrilled about the idea of my mother living with us. (I’m a “grandmamma’s boy”–not a mamma’s boy!) Also, I knew what chemists and sociologists worldwide have long observed: Having two strong women in the same household is a combustible mixture! When I sheepishly broached the issue with Bennie–the regal matriarch of her children and Fort Hill domain who knew my mother’s uncontrollable penchant for making “observations”–she nevertheless fully understood the duty foisted upon me to look after my mother. She said that
she respected me and loved me–that she wouldn’t want a man who felt otherwise–and she wanted our son to grow up with that same sense of responsibility and duty. So Bennie and I made it happen; and brought my mother to live with us in the downstairs apartment. While there were tense moments here and there, my mother understood the relationship strains caused by the imposition of a second woman in a household, and despite herself she tried to be respectful of Bennie’s first-lady-andmother status. Mom also benefitted from Bennie’s innate class and graciousness.
There were benefits to all of us too. As grandparents from time immemorial have done, she warmly and eagerly established relationships with Pratt and B.J.; and she showed them “fun stuff’’ to do, like roller skating on her hardwood floors in defiance of winter’s blast, riding their bikes in the park across the street, and taking excursions on the bus and subway to explore the mysteries of the city. She was cheerfully pressed into service to watch the kids when Bennie had meetings or errands, or when we wanted to go out for the evening. And when we got a dog on Pratt’s 10th birthday, she “grandmothered” the dog too.
My mother had worked hard all of her life; and when she came to Boston, she took a job with a local bank so that she could have benefits. (Her profession over most of her life was as a hairdresser.) In her spare time, she played with her grandchildren, read, and gambled. (Indeed, the nickname the kids gave her was “Atlantic City Granny” for her numerous Greyhound Bus excursions to that East Coast slot-machine mecca.) Her social life centered on us; and she missed her cadre of close friends in Indianapolis–some of whom made the sojourn to Boston to visit her. Accordingly, as her working
years drew to a close, she announced that she’d like to go back to Indianapolis to live in retirement; so Bennie and I bought her a two-family house there that she could live in and have some additional income. She retired at 65 the last Friday of August, 1987; and, before heading back to Naptown to begin her new life, she entered the hospital that Sunday to investigate a nagging cough. Two days later, the doctor informed me that she had contracted inoperable lung cancer and had six months to live. Stunned as I was by the news, the good doctor nevertheless left it up to me to break the bad news to my mother; and when I told her, she teared up a bit, thought for a while, and then said “Well son, we should feel good that you’ve had me for so long.”
Bennie and the kids were stunned like me; but we quickly made arrangements for my mother to move to the hospice in the Episcopal Nunnery right around the corner. She knew the nuns, and they knew her; and while she was able, my gregarious mother entertained nuns and patients alike–just as she had done in the numerous beauty shops she worked. Bennie brought the kids by to visit my mother almost every day; and I would try (not always successfully) to get by daily too. Indeed, at that particular time–and actually, over the years too–Bennie took much better care of my mother than I did; and she was with her when she died–Mom’s final source of comfort, strength, and grace.
Throughout our years together nurturing my mother, Bennie showed me time and time again what an absolutely remarkable woman I had so very luckily married!
Pursuing Careers. Aside from her indispensable value as friend and confidant (a role in which I know she absolutely has my best interests, and my appropriate behavior to put me in the
best light, at heart), and in addition to her wisdom and outstanding common sense, Bennie is also an accomplished and skilled businesswoman who understands commerce and career paths. Thus, I have confided in her every career step I have taken–and every venture I have pursued. And I have been her consigliere as well. Over four-plus decades, there have been many career milestones we have taken - sometimes together (like moving to Fort Hill in Roxbury to invest in the black community and raise our family), and sometimes separately (like The Partnership, Inc., a transformative non-profit that she ran, and Budd, Reilly & Wiley, my first ownership in a law firm). Her rise in business and in the business community has been focused and steady, while mine has been more entrepreneurial and peripatetic. While it may sound ironic to hear us say, making money and gaining wealth was never our principal oB.J.ective–making a difference was. Still, we have managed to meet our obligations, educate our children, engage in philanthropy, and reserve some resources so that we do not become a burden on our children. And we have helped each other indulge our
respective passions in business.
Aging and Health. As the old quip observes, “If I had known I was going to live this long, I would have taken better care of myself!” The “ravages of time” are a cruel reality that we all must confront as we make efforts to extend our lives as long as possible. But in Bennie’s case, while she has been confronted with the aches and pains of advancing age, my wife has been lucky all of these years because she’s one of those rare folks who gets better looking with age. (When I first married her, she was not the smoldering beauty that she is today; nor was she a sexpot or imbued with riches. So she has the satisfaction of knowing that I married her for her character and brains.) As for me, time has taken its toll; and I have already undergone at least one near-death experience. Foremost among the many important things I witnessed and learned from the encounter was my wife’s unyielding loyalty and willingness to care for me and give me comfort. (When Sharon was trying to convince me to marry Bennie, she dwelt on Bennie’s uncharacteristic loyalty and devotion as a Taurean–yet another reason why living with her was going to be like being married anyway. Perhaps there is something to that astrological analysis because both of my Taurean children were the same way about taking care of me.) While I owe her a trove of care and love, I really hope I never get the chance to reciprocate because I don’t ever want to see her suffering or ill–just getting prettier as the years roll by!
PARTING THOUGHTS
The Love of My Life. For a long time, I never thought ANYONE would ever replace my grandmother as the love of my life. She gave me heavy doses of unconditional love as she taught, counseled, nursed,
commiserated with, defended, inspired, nurtured, challenged, and, yes, even as she physically disciplined me. In my formative years, it was she who developed my talents and molded the content of my character. It was she for whom I wanted to shine and do well.
When I brought Bennie home to show off to the Naptowners, it was her I wanted to impress. And when Bennie and I decided that we were going to be parents, she was the one I wanted to tell first. (It was a good thing too, because she died not too long thereafter–four months before our first child and her namesake, Pratt Norton Wiley, was born. To my great regret, she never learned of our second child, B.J.).
To her credit, from the very beginning of our relationship, Bennie gave to me from that great vault of love and talent of hers all the things that my grandmother had given me before–EXCEPT the corporal punishment! (Indeed, other than a verbal lashing every now and then when I deserved it, she never disciplined me at all. Rather, her style has generally been calm and diplomatically-worded suggestion–UNLESS I tested her patience too far.) Even when she was fussing at me, they were things I needed to hear–concepts I needed to internalize–alternatives I needed to consider. I don’t know when Bennie replaced my grandmother as the love of my life. Perhaps it was a testamentary legacy she willed to Bennie as she passed from the scene; or perhaps it was when I realized how many things Bennie did for me to make my life easier and more enjoyable. She has anticipated and accommodated my every need and virtually all of my whims. She has made me know thatnext to the children–I am the love of HER life; and that’s a lofty pedestal I try to be worthy of.
ONE DAY AT A TIME
Our story ends as it began–one day at a time. Except now, instead of counting our blessings for getting through the day together with our love and our marriage still intact, we greet each new day and count our blessings for the many days and years we have already amassed together, and for the continued opportunity to bask one more day in the joy of each other’s company and love!
The Lust of My Life. Just the other day, Bennie and I were discussing the loves of my life, by which we actually meant my old girlfriends; and I clumsily tried to explain to her that while she was not my first love, nor the prettiest, sexiest, wealthiest, freakiest, smartest, or dressiest woman I ever knew, she had enough combination of each those traits, plus her own unparalleled class, to make her a VERY interesting and desirable woman. And while the blights of old age and prostate cancer have taken their toll on my romantic performance capabilities, I am happy to observe that I am still on the playing field, inspired and encouraged by the love and lust of my life–my wife.
