This week's column .
Teetering on irrelevance, but still hungry for the spotlight, Jesse Jackson has seen better days.
Even as a national conference of minority journalists descended two weeks ago on Jackson’s home base in Chicago, he was out of sight, if not out of mind, after an especially bad run of headlines.
It’s not often that Jackson shuns attention.
I remember him coming by the News & Record a couple of years ago to meet with the newspaper’s editorial board.
He had sought the session and gave us two-plus hours of his time.
With an attentive aide in tow, Jackson was in rare form. In particular, he had a lot to say about the country’s prison industry, as he called it. He reveled in the discussion, and he was a thoughtful and engaging interview.
But we could sense even then that he seemed a man who needed an audience. And who believed he had earned one. Who could blame him?
Since his days as an undergraduate at N.C. A&T, oh the places he’s seen and the things he’s done.
Long before Barack Obama came along, there was Jesse, doing the unthinkable, winning Democratic primaries and saying Yes He Could decades ago, way back in 1984.
Remember (and not many people seem to), Jackson won five primaries and caucuses, including Louisiana, South Carolina, Virginia, Mississippi and the District of Columbia. All told, he garnered 21 percent of the popular vote.
Then there he was again, in 1988, winning seven primaries (Alabama, the District of Columbia, Georgia, Louisiana, Mississippi, Puerto Rico and Virginia) and five caucuses (Alaska, Delaware, Michigan, South Carolina and Vermont).
There he was in 1997, serving as President Bill Clinton’s special envoy to the land of Obama’s father, Kenya, and meeting with Kenyan President Daniel arap Moi.
There he was, during the Kosovo War in 1999, negotiating the release of three U.S. POWs who had been captured while on patrol with a U.N. peacekeeping unit.
Then again, there he was in 1984, making his infamous reference to Hymietown, one of several disparaging remarks about Jews.
There he was, as well, in 2001, admitting to an affair with a staffer and to fathering a child with her.
There he was, accepting an apology over the phone from Michael (“Kramer”) Richards for Richards’ use of the N-word in a “comedic” rant. “A simple apology does not deal with the depth of the trauma,” Jackson said.
There he was, declaring with great bombast, that the N-word ought to be retired. Forever. “We want to give our ancestors a present,” Jackson said at a November 2006 news conference. “Dignity over degradation.”
Then there Jackson was earlier this year, using the N-word himself, while whispering not-so-sweet nothings about Obama and what ought to happen to a certain part of Obama’s anatomy. The man who had berated Richards’ use of the word as “sick” and “mean” found himself sheepishly apologizing for the very same sin.
By almost any measure, Jackson, 66, has led a remarkable life, with his stock rising and nosediving with each victory and each gaffe.
But now he seems more a bit player than a star, parachuting into Headline News hot spots, from Jena to Durham, and grabbing sound bites.