My Tribute to Jesse Jackson

When I was 16, I spent a fall weekend on a Church retreat on the South Side of Chicago with about 30 other teenagers. We stayed at Hyde Park Union Church with pastors from our local Church. 

Late Friday night, several of us went out and walked around the Church’s South Side neighborhood smoking pot. We immediately ran into some local teenagers who weren’t particularly friendly at first until we told them we were staying at the Union Church. They then joined us and we all went back to the church and proceeded to have a two-hour “percussion jam” on handheld drums that belonged to the church. The jam was exceptionally vibratory because the center of the church had a large atrium; an open interior space that extended vertically upward for several stories surrounded by balconies. After that night, the weekend became even more eventful. 

On Saturday night several of us dropped acid and went to a live musical with a spectacular light show at the end. We tried to keep our LSD usage a secret from our pastors – an effort which was evidentally fruitless. Driving back from the musical, one of the pastors jokingly said, “I’d feel sorry for anyone who was peaking on acid during that light show.” Mm-hmm. 

When we got back to the church something very strange was happening. We weren’t sure if we were hallucinating … or if there were hundreds of people dressed in glitter and wild, colorful outfits. As it turned out, it was both. There was a “Gay liberation” party being held in the coffee shop on the first floor of the church. Everyone was exceedingly friendly and we proceeded to party with them for several hours before retiring for the evening. 

The next morning, Sunday, our pastors drove us to Jesse Jackson’s Fellowship Missionary Baptist Church also located on the South Side. We were seated high in the Church’s balconies and it was clear that our group stood out as young affluent teenagers from the North Side of Chicago. But, no matter, we were literally welcomed with open arms and Rev. Jackson took the time to speak with each of us individually. 

I’m not sure we entirely understood how special the morning was as Rev. Jackson stepped onto the stage and began preaching. It was (and still is) his church; founded by him in 1950 with only five members. I believe we were all deeply affected by Rev. Jackson’s sermon in ways that would be revealed over time. 

After his sermon, we left and went to the famous Maxwell Street Market, established in the late 19th century as an open-air market, and considered the birthplace of the Chicago blues. While there, I purchased a full-length mink coat which I proceeded to wear for the entire winter. 

The South Side of Chicago weekend was the second of three church retreats our church pastors took us to. Every retreat had similar themes involving partying, acid and communing with each other. All the retreats were momentous but this one had special meaning. We were embraced and held in love by one group of people after another all of whom we should have had nothing in common with – but as it turned out we had EVERYTHING in common with in the ways that matter most.

I’ve been blessed with countless spiritual experiences in my life but none more meaningful than this. This weekend profoundly influenced the trajectory of my entire spiritual life. Today, I’m grateful to every soul that was a part of it. It showed me that I have the God-given ability to move seamlessly from a glitter-filled party to the feet of Jesse Jackson. 

This morning, I hold in my heart the memory of Rev. Jackson on that stage no doubt noticing all of us who stood out from his usual visitors; preaching to all of us equally, hoping to save our souls. God bless you, Jesse. Rest in eternal peace.

Randi Fredricks, Ph.D.