RIP, Frank Melton
I always knew I wanted to be a writer. From the time I was seven years old, I carried around a little notebook and recorded the details of my life in journal entries or poems. It wasn’t until much later in life that I decided I wanted to use my writing skills in the field of journalism.
When I was a junior high school student in a Jackson, Mississippi public school, what I thought was going to be just another boring assembly changed my life. A man named Frank Melton, who owned the local NBC station came to speak to us. He was a smaller African American man with a big booming voice and an even bigger personality. He fired up that crowd of mostly lower income African American kids and struck a chord in my soul as well. I’ll never forget the chant he made us belt out:
“I CAN BE,” he screamed.
“I CAN BE,” we repeated.
“WHATEVER I WANT TO BE,” he bellowed.
“WHATEVER I WANT TO BE,” we echoed.
Frank had high expectations of young people. He didn’t allow excuses. So what if you were poor kids going to a crappy public school? Get up off your ass and make something of yourself. He said a lot of stuff that I remember, but I found this quote in a news article today. It is classic Frank Melton, and it made me smile:
Frank always said he wanted to help the young people in our city, and I believed him. I held onto his words for a long time; I’m still holding on to some of them. A couple years after I first heard him speak, I applied to a journalism conference in Washington. I was accepted and wrote to him to let him know. He wrote back with encouraging words that pushed me forward even more.
During the conference, I met a lot of kids my own age who came from wealthy families or from schools that had the resources to do more with their students. I went to an inner-city poor school in the worst state in the nation for education. None of my peers at home had internships. I’m not even sure any of my classmates would have known what that was at that time, but I felt the pressure from all these other kids I had met in Washington. I was behind, and I had to catch up.
When I got home, I was determined to make my own way. I decided to see if Frank Melton was a man of his word. At the ripe ole age of 16, I wrote him again and asked for a job. He set up an interview with his assistant. Afterwards, she called back and said they couldn’t give me a job, but if I could find a way to get high school credits for my work, Frank would allow me to create my own internship program.
I went to a regular high school part of the day and a performing arts school for the second half. I got the principal of my performing arts school to give me a class grade for my work at WLBT. I would conduct “classes” on television news with my theatre group in exchange for credit. This was enough to give me my start in the business.
I worked my ass off that summer of my internship. I learned everything I could about every job in the newsroom. I learned to edit video on my first day. By the end of my first week, I was the editor for the 5pm newscast. The regular editor was on maternity leave. I went out on some big stories with reporters. I loved that, but something was missing for me. When a producer took me under her wings and started teaching me her job, I was hooked. That was what I was meant to do. Within a few weeks, she started letting me “produce” the newscast with her supervising me. By the end of the summer, I felt like a producer. During that time, Frank would breeze through the newsroom every now and then. I was pretty sure he was checking up on me, but he never let on. We never really talked about what he had done for me. I wish we had.
After my internship was over, I was devastated. I had fallen in love with the people I worked with. I had fallen in love with the station. I had fallen in love with television news. I knew I had found my passion, and I was so sad to return to the regular life of a teenage girl.
A couple of weeks later, the news director called me and offered me a part-time job as an associate producer. I worked after school, on weekends, whenever they needed me. I know Frank had probably signed off on my hiring, even though he never acknowledged it. I never asked. I was so in awe of him, I barely ever said more than, “Hi, Frank” when he walked by. He was a god to me.
Years after I left Jackson for college and my career, my mom kept Frank updated on my progress. She worked at the grocery store where he shopped. Even though he never asked me, he apparently always asked my mom how I was doing. It meant a lot to me that he cared about what I was doing even after I had moved on.
In the past few years, Frank has gone through some rough times, many of his own making. He sold the TV station, headed up the state’s narcotics bureau, became a tough-on-crime mayor, and pissed a lot of people off. He always spoke his mind, even when it was extremely unpopular. He always fought for the little guy, even when he was rich beyond comprehension. He had some harsh and unorthodox ways of doing things that got him into a lot of trouble, politically and legally. He had been sued, arrested, charged with federal crimes. "When you look at the mistakes that I've made, you won't find one mistake that I have made to benefit myself. Those mistakes were made to help somebody else and that's it. I'm not going to change," Melton said in 2008. Take it or leave it, but that was certainly the truth. That was one thing you’d always get from him, like it or not.
Even though he fought for the kids of Jackson, Mississippi, he never lived full-time with his own family. His pediatrician wife stayed behind in Texas with their kids. That raised a lot of eyebrows in the community and stirred a lot of rumors over the years.
When he died early this morning, though, his wife was by his side. I don’t know what their relationship was. I don’t know why he chose to carry on his crusades in Jackson while his family lived hundreds of miles away. I don’t care. All I know is that Frank Melton touched a lot of lives. He touched mine in a very big way. I will be forever grateful for his words, his deeds, and his example. He might have been tragically flawed, but he was also profoundly inspirational. He changed a lot of lives with his own, and I hate it that the end of his life was so full of turmoil and criticism.
I will always remember the Frank Melton I met back in the 1980s. A man who inspired me to do better than my beginnings. A man who gave me a shot when no one really should have. A man who changed my life forever.
RIP, Frank Melton. I hope you finally have peace in your heart.
Photo courtesy WLBT TV.
When I was a junior high school student in a Jackson, Mississippi public school, what I thought was going to be just another boring assembly changed my life. A man named Frank Melton, who owned the local NBC station came to speak to us. He was a smaller African American man with a big booming voice and an even bigger personality. He fired up that crowd of mostly lower income African American kids and struck a chord in my soul as well. I’ll never forget the chant he made us belt out:“I CAN BE,” he screamed.
“I CAN BE,” we repeated.
“WHATEVER I WANT TO BE,” he bellowed.
“WHATEVER I WANT TO BE,” we echoed.
Frank had high expectations of young people. He didn’t allow excuses. So what if you were poor kids going to a crappy public school? Get up off your ass and make something of yourself. He said a lot of stuff that I remember, but I found this quote in a news article today. It is classic Frank Melton, and it made me smile:
“You need to give those earrings to your sister, put your pants up on your behind where they belong. If you're going to be a man, you need to act like a man and look like a man.”
Frank always said he wanted to help the young people in our city, and I believed him. I held onto his words for a long time; I’m still holding on to some of them. A couple years after I first heard him speak, I applied to a journalism conference in Washington. I was accepted and wrote to him to let him know. He wrote back with encouraging words that pushed me forward even more.
During the conference, I met a lot of kids my own age who came from wealthy families or from schools that had the resources to do more with their students. I went to an inner-city poor school in the worst state in the nation for education. None of my peers at home had internships. I’m not even sure any of my classmates would have known what that was at that time, but I felt the pressure from all these other kids I had met in Washington. I was behind, and I had to catch up.
When I got home, I was determined to make my own way. I decided to see if Frank Melton was a man of his word. At the ripe ole age of 16, I wrote him again and asked for a job. He set up an interview with his assistant. Afterwards, she called back and said they couldn’t give me a job, but if I could find a way to get high school credits for my work, Frank would allow me to create my own internship program.
I went to a regular high school part of the day and a performing arts school for the second half. I got the principal of my performing arts school to give me a class grade for my work at WLBT. I would conduct “classes” on television news with my theatre group in exchange for credit. This was enough to give me my start in the business.
I worked my ass off that summer of my internship. I learned everything I could about every job in the newsroom. I learned to edit video on my first day. By the end of my first week, I was the editor for the 5pm newscast. The regular editor was on maternity leave. I went out on some big stories with reporters. I loved that, but something was missing for me. When a producer took me under her wings and started teaching me her job, I was hooked. That was what I was meant to do. Within a few weeks, she started letting me “produce” the newscast with her supervising me. By the end of the summer, I felt like a producer. During that time, Frank would breeze through the newsroom every now and then. I was pretty sure he was checking up on me, but he never let on. We never really talked about what he had done for me. I wish we had.
After my internship was over, I was devastated. I had fallen in love with the people I worked with. I had fallen in love with the station. I had fallen in love with television news. I knew I had found my passion, and I was so sad to return to the regular life of a teenage girl.
A couple of weeks later, the news director called me and offered me a part-time job as an associate producer. I worked after school, on weekends, whenever they needed me. I know Frank had probably signed off on my hiring, even though he never acknowledged it. I never asked. I was so in awe of him, I barely ever said more than, “Hi, Frank” when he walked by. He was a god to me.
Years after I left Jackson for college and my career, my mom kept Frank updated on my progress. She worked at the grocery store where he shopped. Even though he never asked me, he apparently always asked my mom how I was doing. It meant a lot to me that he cared about what I was doing even after I had moved on.
In the past few years, Frank has gone through some rough times, many of his own making. He sold the TV station, headed up the state’s narcotics bureau, became a tough-on-crime mayor, and pissed a lot of people off. He always spoke his mind, even when it was extremely unpopular. He always fought for the little guy, even when he was rich beyond comprehension. He had some harsh and unorthodox ways of doing things that got him into a lot of trouble, politically and legally. He had been sued, arrested, charged with federal crimes. "When you look at the mistakes that I've made, you won't find one mistake that I have made to benefit myself. Those mistakes were made to help somebody else and that's it. I'm not going to change," Melton said in 2008. Take it or leave it, but that was certainly the truth. That was one thing you’d always get from him, like it or not.
Even though he fought for the kids of Jackson, Mississippi, he never lived full-time with his own family. His pediatrician wife stayed behind in Texas with their kids. That raised a lot of eyebrows in the community and stirred a lot of rumors over the years.
When he died early this morning, though, his wife was by his side. I don’t know what their relationship was. I don’t know why he chose to carry on his crusades in Jackson while his family lived hundreds of miles away. I don’t care. All I know is that Frank Melton touched a lot of lives. He touched mine in a very big way. I will be forever grateful for his words, his deeds, and his example. He might have been tragically flawed, but he was also profoundly inspirational. He changed a lot of lives with his own, and I hate it that the end of his life was so full of turmoil and criticism.
I will always remember the Frank Melton I met back in the 1980s. A man who inspired me to do better than my beginnings. A man who gave me a shot when no one really should have. A man who changed my life forever.
RIP, Frank Melton. I hope you finally have peace in your heart.
Photo courtesy WLBT TV.
Labels: Frank Melton
