Ted was my buddy!
I don’t say that often, especially about someone with whom I share no biological history, no alma mater, and not even a generation. But Ted was the exception.
I first met Lt Col Theodore Lumpkin, Jr., (12/30/1919 – 12/26/2020) a Tuskegee Airmen Scholarship Foundation (TASF) board member, affectionately known to us as Ted, when I assumed the role of Executive Director over a decade ago. Ted possessed a rare, grounding presence: a palpable sense of confidence wrapped in a cloak of profound humility. While I only knew the second half of his journey, a glance at the archives made it clear that Ted’s fingerprints were on the very foundation of the Tuskegee Airmen Scholarship Foundation long before I walked through the door.
Ted wasn’t a “Red Tail” pilot; he was an air combat intelligence officer and briefed pilots before missions during WWII. Yet, he possessed the soul of a commander when it came to strategy and order. I remember watching him calmly challenge the national Tuskegee Airmen, Inc. (TAI) board during a convention; when Ted spoke, the room didn’t just grow quiet, it grew attentive. He spoke with a mix of passion and wisdom that only a life of high-stakes service can forge.
I think of the time our team decided to walk several long blocks to a restaurant after a conference session. Ted was 90 then. We were naturally protective, hovering and suggesting an Uber, but Ted simply wouldn’t have it. He walked every block with us, pacing the group with a steady, determined gait.
That was Ted. He was a man who embraced the modern world, he navigated apps on his phone and managed his own transport with ease. Even at 99, he was still driving himself, and on the rare occasions I’d offer a lift, he was famously the world’s most alluring “front seat driver,” offering a steady stream of guidance on my every turn and lane change. Once, early in my tenure, I mistakenly asked who had driven him to an event. With a flicker of indignation and a twinkle in his eye, he corrected me: “I brought myself.”
He was, in every sense, the master of his own destiny. I remember once hearing the quick, rhythmic thud of feet bounding down the stairs at his home. I assumed it was a grandson, perhaps a teenager moving with youthful haste, but as the figure rounded the corner, it was Ted. He descended with a strength and independence that defied his years, leaving me to realize, in that moment, I was the one inspired, and he was the one showing me how to truly live.
As we look toward this Memorial Day weekend, I find myself thinking of legends like Ted, as well as Charles McGee, Jerry Hodges, and George Hardy, men I had the immense honor of knowing. Like those whose chapters bare their names, they were more than veterans; they were architects of a better society, reaching personal and professional heights that seem almost impossible to the average person.
This Memorial Day, I encourage you to pause and think of your favorite Tuskegee Airman. Thank the heavens for the work they did and the path they cleared. Their unwavering concern for others is the heartbeat of our foundation; it is the reason we do what we do.
When you support TASF, with your donations, you aren’t just looking back at history, you are fueling the next generation of leaders who will carry the Tuskegee Airmen’s legacy of excellence into the future.
A “Happy” Memorial Day is a moment of collective gratitude for those who served with gallantry, giving their talents in the military and in civilian life, to ensure our freedom.
To the men and women who paved the way: We salute you, today and every day.
Edward Grice, Executive Director
Proprietary Photo: Edward Grice, all rights reserved, no duplication of parts or entirety.
Leave a Reply