This is an opinion column.

I’ve been blessed to share stages with several renowned citizens of this world—true leaders in their fields. It was often heady stuff for this kid from Tulsa. Few headier than the day in the spring of 1994 when I shared a stage with Rep. Barbara Jordan, the esteemed then-former Texas congresswoman, the first Black woman elected to Congress from the South, and recognized in the U.S. National Archives as the first LBGTQ+ woman in Congress.

She possessed a commanding intellect accompanied by a booming, equally commanding voice.

She was E.F. Hutton. When she spoke, rooms quieted.

After being elected to the Texas state senate in 1966 to represent a district drawn by the court to create one comprising largely of minority voters—sound familiar Alabama?–Jordan served three terms in the U.S. House, between 1973-1979, years when this still-young man was moved by the disquieting politics of the era. I was inspired by myriad Black voices of the decade as they challenged a nation still grappling with civil rights and occupied new, higher seats in the political arena.

Few, if any, possessed Jordan’s bold bravado and articulation on complex policy and contorted issues. Her credentials helped secure a coveted seat on the House Judiciary Committee, and on July 24, 1974, she delivered powerful Constitution-grounded remarks as the committee considered articles of impeachment against President Richard M. Nixon.

“It is a misreading of the Constitution,” she stated early, “for any member here to assert that for a member to vote for an article of impeachment means that that member must be convinced that the President should be removed from office. The Constitution doesn’t say that. The powers relating to impeachment are an essential check in the hands of the body of the Legislature against and upon the encroachments of the Executive.”

She later added: “It is reason, and not passion, which must guide our deliberations, guide our debate, and guide our decision.”

Would someone please forward this text to today’s Congressional Republicans?

View the full statement here. It’s worth your time.

I have absolutely no recollection of what I said that day nearly three decades ago as we shared a long table on stage in the LBJ auditorium on the campus of the University of Texas, where she was a professor at the LBJ School of Public Affairs for 17 years. Yet I still shiver, still hear her voice filling the room and turning every ear.

The topic was “Integrity in Athletics”. A “Barbara Jordan” moment was recalled two years later by Bill Little, a respected, long-time administrator in UT Athletics who died this last August: Panelist H.G. Bissinger, author of the best-seller Friday Light Lights was at a far end of the table speaking, spouting on about the excesses and negatives of sports, particularly at the high-school level.

I’ll allow Little to take it from here:

Bissinger was seated far to the right. From the other end of the table, as Bissinger was almost in mid-sentence, a familiar voice boomed.

Barbara Jordan had heard enough.

“Why does sport matter so much?” she boomed defiantly in what surely could have been best described as “the voice of God.”

“Why does sport matter so much?” she repeated.

“It matters because sport is vital, it is viable, it is basic, and it is essential. Sport is not a frivolous distraction, as one may first, without thinking, believe. Sport is an equal opportunity teacher. It is a nonpartisan event. It is universal in its application.”

At the other end of the table, Bissinger was slumping, almost out of sight.

“I see sport as an antidote to some of the balkanization that we see occurring in our society; everybody wanting their own private little piece of turf; an absolute abandonment of any sense of common purpose, of common good,” Jordan continued. “It is almost a cliché to say there is no ‘I’ in the word ‘team.’ If you are so focused on self, you cannot have any awareness of the common good.”

A hush grew over the auditorium, as the audience, made up of students and professors who were leaning toward agreeing with Bissinger, hung on every word.

“Another reason why I believe sport is essential is self-esteem,” she said. “In order to be a contributor to American life, each individual needs to have a high regard for himself or herself first. Sport can do that. If you get out there and you have never been recognized for anything before in your life, if you show some capability, some particular tilt and talent for a sport, it gives you self-esteem.”

Again, no clue what I said that day, and I was not ashamed a single bit.

Afterward, we posed for a photo she later signed, along with a poster promoting the event. (Her picture was featured, mine was nowhere to be found.)

On this date, October 5, 1995, Jordan was at West Point to accept the Sylvanus Thayer Award, presented by the Association of Graduates of the United States Military Academy “to an outstanding citizen of the United States whose service and accomplishments in the national interest exemplify personal devotion to the ideals expressed in the West Point motto, ‘Duty, Honor, Country.’” (Alabamian Dr. Mae Jamison was so honored in 2021.)

Jordan, in her acceptance, called the accolade a “personal tribute of high and unmatched quality… My unequivocal delight is enhanced by your presence.”

She spoke glowing of the cadets in the audience:

“You will be the decision-makers of the future. You will literally hold the lives and fortunes of others within your power. It is my hope that your circumstances will not include warfare, but they very well may. If you do not develop honor, if you do not embrace the finest sense of justice that the human mind can frame, you will not be worthy of the confidence West Point and your country will place in you.”

Towards the end, she concluded:

“There is no magic formula to guarantee success. I can assure you that if you embrace your West Point heritage … if you go beyond the dictionary definitions of duty, honor, country and learn their meanings … if these words are inculcated into your very souls and are not just everyday chatter … you will not need magic formulas.

Your West Point education is only the beginning. But a marvelous beginning. If the idea of service before self becomes ingrained in you … you will leave here with the necessary tools to lead our country in the twenty-first century. You will do so with honor.”

Read the entire speech here or click the button below.

Three months later, Barbara died of complications from pneumonia. She was just 59.

More columns by Roy S. Johnson

Tuberville’s racist military words set us dangerously back

I want to cry too, at sight of Black men flailing, failing our youth

Is Magic City Classic rivalry fading?

Alabama … a State of Fear

Clarence Thomas and Republicans are mocking us all.

Alabama’s non-parole board shows we’re not serious about prison, justice reform

Do we want our children to go to school or prison? State funding levels provide an answer

I’m a Pulitzer Prize finalist for commentary, a member of the National Association of Black Journalists Hall of Fame, and winner of the Edward R. Murrow prize for podcasts for “Unjustifiable,” co-hosted with John Archibald. My column appears in AL.com, as well as the Lede. Check out my new podcast series “Panther: Blueprint for Black Power,” which I co-host with Eunice Elliott. Subscribe to my free weekly newsletter, The Barbershop, here. Reach me at [email protected], follow me at twitter.com/roysj, or on Instagram @roysj