On a morning blooming with memorable lines, Mr. Ridley-Thomas produced one of the sparkling gems. Speaking of the associated values of public service and empowerment, he said:
Like a stake through the heart of prejudice, Mr. Ridley-Thomas and a cast of friends that included the celebrated Princeton professor Dr. Cornel West, relentlessly pounded away at the crucialness of “empowering” ordinary people, the constituents of his district, to contribute, to participate and to encourage others to engage in government. “Public service” and “empowerment of the people” were constants, mentioned by nearly every speaker. The password phrase, it was said, to enter Mr. Ridley-Thomas’s empowerment universe was, “I want to make a difference.”
On any other day — when there wasn’t a surfeit of political tribulations and tributaries — the 39-member Agape International Choir, many in flowing, colorful African robes, would have stolen and monopolized the crowd’s attention. They mesmerized the cheering audience. Their stunning performances were so gripping they would have frozen a bowl of jelly baking in the sun.
The controversial Prof. West, who was a neon member of the faculty at Yale and at Harvard before — in a haze of disputation — accepting an appointment from Princeton. Rhetorically and stylistically, Mr. West was the glistening star of the day, and his competition was stern. His several-minute message was so stirring and moving that all 200 guests undoubtedly would have followed him out the double doors and down Culver Boulevard, in any direction he wanted to go.
Earlier, the widowed Erin Stennis, president of the Stennis Family Foundation, and Irene Hirano, president and CEO of the Japanese American National Museum, spoke powerfully of their long and unique associations with Mr. Ridley-Thomas. But, with flamboyance and charisma, Mr. West picked up the room, placed them on his wings, and flew away to the heavens. He took ordinary language and galvinized his words with a stamp of singular sincerity. Delivering each word in a minimum of two syllables, he said, methodically, “Mark Ridley-Thomas is my brother. I love him so very, very dearly. I respect him so very, very deeply.” Tracing his history with Mr. Ridley-Thomas back to the 1970s, Mr. West said the two of them “made a covenant with each other. We didn’t make a contract or a compact. I said, a covenant. We decided we were going to attempt to make the world safe for the legacy of Martin Luther King Jr., and be faithful unto death.” Central to their covenant, said Mr. West, voice rising, was, “What will be the quality of your service to others? That will be the litmus test. That will be the benchmark.”
For all of the talk about ordinary people rising up, Mr. West found only the extraordinary in Culver City’s new senator. “When you talk about distinguished public servants, not just in Los Angeles, not just in California, but in the nation, what it means to be a statesman, those who know what it means to empower, to ennoble, to enable ordinary people — that’s Mark Ridley-Thomas.” Even while the crowd was still cheering, amidst sprinklings of “Amen” calls, Mr. West roared to the finish line. Not needing to catch his wind, he scanned the crowd and then turned to Mr. Ridley-Thomas with an electrifying pledge. “We are going down together, brother, I’ll tell you that.” And they cheered even more.
It should not be overlooked that City Manager Jerry Fulwood, who delivered the welcoming address, was not without a little rhetorical flourish himself:
City Hall in Culver City clearly was the place for certain members of the elite of Los Angeles political life to be this morning. Among them, interim Los Angeles Fire Chief Douglas L. Barry, new LAUSD Supt. David Brewer, still in uniform, LAUSD School Board member Marguerite La Motte, Assemblyman Curran D. Price (D-Inglewood), Saundra Davis of the Culver City School Board, four members of the City Council of Culver City, Mayor Gary Silbiger, who made a strong appearance in welcoming the largely non-Culver City crowd, Vice Mayor Alan Corlin, and Councilmembers Carol Gross and Scott Malsin, and Judy Chu of the State Board of Equalization.
Postscript
Mr. Ridley-Thomas, flanked by his wife Avis and his Aunt Emma Adams, described as the family matriarch, renewed last month’s swearing-in oath, as dictated by Dist. Judge Terry L. Hatter. In the closing act that may have been the most symbolic interlude for many, Mr. Ridley-Thomas installed the two dozen members of the Leadership Council of the Empowerment Congress, comprised, it was stressed, of ordinary people. The senator organized the group 15 years ago when he was voted onto the Los Angeles City Council.
