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I didn’t know the congressman at that point in my young life, but I knew of him. He was literally a giant in my eyes—yet relatable to all his constituents. It wasn’t just what I heard him say or what I saw him do. It was more about the way people I respected in my community talked about him when he wasn’t around. He carried so much dignity and honor in the eyes of those he served, in every corner of the city.
I eventually met the congressman, our Elijah, at my high school graduation. Although our encounter was brief, I was unbelievably proud to say I had met him, and I knew from that moment that he was someone I needed to continue to look up to.
As the years passed, I ran for office and worked to gain his love and respect. His mentoring influenced me deeply, and I counted the congressman as one of my biggest supporters. I could call on him, and I did—frequently—for advice, suggestions, policy debates, and even his thoughts on family and marriage. My wife, Marilyn, serves as Baltimore City state’s attorney, and whenever we wrestled over an issue or an idea, inevitably we agreed to “see what Elijah thinks” before we made a decision.
It’s hard to put into words all that I have learned from the congressman, but what I will hold on to mostly is that he was a man of the people, equally at ease with a head of state in Washington or walking through the heart of West Baltimore with residents. He mastered the common touch and taught all of us that if you’re going to be respected and effective in places like Baltimore City, the people must be able see, touch and feel you.
It was not hard for the congressman to hit the streets and lead the efforts to restore peace and order in our community following the death of Freddie Gray in 2015. He could command the respect of both protesters and law enforcement. Locking arms with him and helping to bring calm to a very volatile situation was an up-and-close encounter that I cherish. He tirelessly helped to save the city from greater loss of life and property by literally standing in between protesters and police begging for time and peace. He cut no deals and offered no judgments; he simply staked his good name and his well-earned credibility on the promise that better days would come and justice would be pursued.
Our Elijah leaves us much unfinished business to address in our city and our country, but he also leaves a shining example of how a good and faithful servant looks, leads and builds. On the December night when the House impeached Trump, two months after Cummings’ death, Speaker Nancy Pelosi invoked his efforts to protect our democracy, and reflected, “We did all we could, Elijah.”
Our Elijah had the reach and respect of a “kingmaker,” with a larger-than-life presence. But his unyielding humility, passion and love dominated that persona, guided his actions and made him uninterested in the throne. I am forever indebted and beyond grateful that my hero, Congressman Elijah Cummings, never disappointed me and turned out to be even better than advertised.