During his remarkable life, and as part of his legacy, Lloyd Williams had a favorite phrase: “Harlem and the Harlems of the world.” A representative slice of that global demographic assembled last Saturday at Salem United Methodist Church to say farewell to the tireless leader, who died August 6 at age 80.
From Mayor Eric Adams to former street vendors, expressions of gratitude and appreciation flowed for nearly three hours with the church at its near 1,000-seat capacity. The celebration began with a gentle prelude from Beverly Lewis’s organ to the thunderous drums of Baba Don Eaton Babatunde, music that reflected Lloyd’s eclectic taste.
The Rev. Raschaad Hoggard offered a prayer of comfort and consolation, followed by Rev. Jaques DeGraff and attorney Larry Frazier, a Harlem Week co-founder, who read from the Old and New Testament, respectively. The crowd in the church was then asked to read the obituary in silence. It highlighted some of his numerous achievements, none more notable than his stewardship of the Greater Harlem Chamber of Commerce and his 50 years of overseeing the ever-expanding Harlem Week.
Nearly every speaker, unavoidably, mentioned Harlem Week, and with a cursory look around the church, you could see several of Lloyd’s staff and trusted lieutenants: Marko Nobles, Winston Majette, Jared McCallister, Darryl Downing, Michele Scott Powell, Jason Auguste, Michael Franklin, et al.
Seated not far from the podium was Voza Rivers, whose wife, Sharon Morris, passed away a day before Lloyd’s death. He was an indispensable partner to both these Harlem stalwarts.
A litany of encomiums and words of remembrance began with Hugh Williams, Lloyd’s younger brother. His comments were laced with humor, recounting that even when he was an excellent student, Lloyd expected more of him. He elicited a bit of laughter when he said Lloyd’s resumé was “longer than a receipt from CVS.”
Marvin Kelly, one of the founders of Harlem Week, said Lloyd gave him “the keys to life, literally and figuratively.” The literal keys were to Lloyd’s car, which he allowed Marvin to borrow temporarily. “With his passing, a mighty tree has fallen,” Kelly added.
Michele Scott Powell, Lloyd’s chief of staff for many years, said “he was the heart of an illustrious extended family. It was not unusual to see him slip away from the spotlight,” which often happened even when he was the center of attraction.
Lloyd’s cousin-in-law, Darrell Byrd, devoted his comments to Lloyd’s wife, Valorie, who was always very supportive of her husband and assisted him through various events. A musical interlude featured Vy Higgensen’s Sing Harlem Choir, and the lead singer had a voice that soared as magnificently as Mahalia Jackson’s as she led the choir into a traditional rendition of “Down by the Riverside.”
Reginald James Idlett, Lloyd’s godchild, who everyone at the Chamber knows as “R.J.,” said that one of Lloyd’s favorite ways of showing affection was to kiss you on the forehead, something that often followed a gentle chastising. “You don’t sit around doing nothing at the Chamber,” he noted.
If anyone in the church could speak chapter and verse to Lloyd’s outstanding career, former New York State Assemblymember Inez Dickens, who had known Lloyd since she was very young, could, but she only had 5 minutes. Even so, she explained how Lloyd and Voza Rivers “fought against institutional racism. He touched about everything in the Harlem community and he possessed the organizational skills to connect across barriers.”
She even broke down his LAW initials: “L is for his leadership; A is for his advocacy, and W is for his wisdom.” She was surrounded by several elected officials, including Yusef Salaam, Keith Wright, Gail Brewer, and Al Taylor.
Adams, accompanied by the Rev. Dr. Herbert Daughtry, picked up where Dickens left off, using a Good Samaritan incident as a metaphor on the freeway to show how Lloyd “shaded us from adversity.”
New York Attorney General Letitia James was equally abundant in her recognition of Lloyd’s teaching ability. “One day, he sat me down in his office and gave me some lessons on Harlem’s history. He had a vision much like Malcolm X,” said James. Williams considered Malcolm his godfather and as she spoke, James seemed to look toward his daughter, Attallah, who was seated in the front row.
When Rev. Al Sharpton observed that Lloyd was “no punk,” he almost brought the same applause the attorney general received when she was introduced. “He stood up for us and never let us down,” Sharpton said.
Ade, Lloyd’s son, took the podium and confessed that he had made a lot of mistakes in his life, including having the mayor, the attorney general, and Sharpton speak before he took the lectern. The previous speakers had exhausted all the superlatives, so he chose to focus on his father’s ability to see possibilities where there was little hope and promise. “Move forward and focus on what can be,” he said, the words almost like Lloyd’s mantra.
With his wife, Valerie, and his son by his side, Ade stripped off his jacket to reveal one of the slogans Lloyd had dreamed up for last year’s Harlem Week, “Be the Change.”
Rev. Dennis Dillon delivered the eulogy and retold a story that many in the audience had experienced with Lloyd — his late night and early morning phone calls. “I was determined to beat him to the punch on the holidays, especially Christmas and New Year’s, but he never answered the phone,” Dillon said. “I guess he wanted to always be the first to call.”
Among the things Dillon cited in his closing remarks about Lloyd, much of which he advised listeners could be found in the current Christian Times newspaper, which was devoted almost exclusively to Lloyd’s legacy, was the number of scholarships the Chamber had given to young people over the years.
“He was always giving, and giving, and giving,” Dillon said.
There was some wonderful music and dismissal blessings from the church’s pastor, Rev. Noel Chin.
Before Doug E. Fresh, told the audience that he was the first hip-hop artist to be featured at Harlem Week, Mavis Swan Poole got the crowd’s attention with her heartfelt version of Frank SInatra’s “My Way,” which could have been Lloyd’s theme song.
Like Mayor Adams, saxophonist Bill Saxton and Melissa Moore Nobles were not listed in the printed program but his horn was uplifting and her recitation from Jeremiah about one’s readiness for the future was spot-on and blended perfectly with the words of the celebration — “God Has a Plan.”
Lloyd seemed to have had a plan, too, one very much like Jeremiah’s: to give his community and residents “a future with hope.”