When We Lose Our Giants

In the last few weeks, New Orleans has lost some giants.

Not simply people who were important to their families, their organizations or their particular circles, but people whose lives helped shape the cultural, civic and social landscape of this city. Among them were two men whose names are deeply connected to the history and mission of the New Orleans Tribune: James Borders, the founding editor of this newspaper, and Jerome Smith, a freedom fighter, civil rights leader and community activist whose life’s work centered on one of the most important investments any community can make—its young people.

James Borders was here at the beginning. As the very first editor of the New Orleans Tribune, he helped establish the voice and the purpose of a publication that would become an important part of New Orleans’ Black press tradition. His contribution reminds us that institutions do not simply appear. They are built by people willing to believe that their voices, their communities and their stories matter.

Jerome Smith represented another kind of institution—the kind that lives in people.

When the founders and publishers of the New Orleans Tribune looked across the landscape of New Orleans and considered the organizations and individuals worthy of philanthropic investment, Tambourine & Fan, founded by Smith, was consistently at the top of that list. We believed deeply in the work he was doing because we understood its significance. Jerome Smith knew that changing a community meant reaching young people, giving them a sense of possibility and helping them understand that they had a role to play in shaping the future.

And now, we feel their absence.

Perhaps that is what the loss of giants is supposed to make us do: stop and look around.

Who is doing the work now? Who is preserving our culture? Who is challenging injustice? Who is creating spaces where young people can grow, dream and find their voices? Who is building institutions that will still matter decades from now? Who is quietly stepping into the spaces that people like Borders and Smith once occupied?

Because every generation eventually loses its giants.

The question is whether we have been paying attention to the people coming behind them.

New Orleans is a city that has always been blessed with extraordinary people—artists, activists, educators, journalists, organizers, preservationists, entrepreneurs and community builders. But we cannot simply celebrate our giants after they are gone. We have to recognize the people doing the work while they are still here. We have to invest in them, encourage them, support their institutions and give them room to grow.

Because when our giants leave us, the loss is real. We feel it because their contributions were real.

But perhaps the greatest way to honor them is not simply to remember what they did.

It is to make sure the work continues.

We have lost some big ones.

Now, we need to look across this city—and ask:

Who’s next?