Awoke this morning to find Albuquerque Journal reporters Nakayla McClelland and Matt Reisen’s very well-crafted story on the life and passing of Dr. Bailey. While the most immediate reason for the piece is sad, knowing countlessly more people will find out about this great man than would ever happen via something written here at BB is heartening. Thanks, Albuquerque Journal.

Reporters McClelland and Reisen are particularly thanked for including Harold’s work, and confrontations necessary to get that work done, during the 1970s. We’ll dive a bit more into that decade and beyond of service in the next post here, simply urging folks read the Journal story (I think/hope I linked it above in a non-paywall manner. Let me know if that’s not the case.).

But while I have you, so to speak, here’s a clarification and a thought or two from a personal perspective.

As mentioned in yesterday’s first post about Harold, I first met him nearly two decades on from his 1970s service in 1995. I was a new teacher at Hayes Middle School and he was just another teacher, albeit by far the best one on campus. Ours was a professional relationship, augmented with some post-teaching day hanging out including golf, a fairly frequent poker game, and the occasional sharing of a drink or two.

As mentioned in the Journal story, Harold was not one to brag. As I only moved here in 1993, I had NO idea for quite some time after first meeting him that he had done all these amazing things. I only knew that he always kicked my ass on the golf course and often took my money at the poker table. Still, to use the poker lingo, there was a “tell” about the way Harold carried himself which betrayed he was something more than simply a guy holding a better poker hand.

First and foremost, he was the most charming person I have ever met. His ability to meet and make the person he had just met comfortable was beyond amazing. And not in some sort of fake, politician kind of way. No, Harold quickly/smoothly got to the nitty-gritty and what really mattered in any situation, whether that be best teaching practice or which beer at the old Kelly’s (the first one on Central, next to the now-demolished old motel) was the best.

By the way, it was the imperial stout.

I also observed in these professional and after-hours interaction that Dr. Bailey always made it a hugely important point to include EVERYBODY in this feeling of being engaged and comfortable around him. And not because he wanted something from these people; he was just that way. Not to make this overly personal, but a good example of this inclusivity was me. I am not an extroverted person. I have zero ability to engender comfort and engagement in 99.9% of all social interactions. Dr. Bailey was the .1%. First time I met him. Every time after that.

It was only well after first meeting him, and only sporadically that he started to share with me his life before Hayes Middle School. The life we’ll get into in our next post and probably a few after that. His retelling of this work I’ll inadequately collect into the term “civil rights” was singularly fascinating, and, at the same time, humble and a bit guarded. You could tell between the lines of these stories just how hard Dr. Bailey had to work to achieve these important advances. How much they must have taken out of him. How easy it would have been for him to just get bitter and stop.

But he didn’t stop.

And while his only job title was “merely” that of being the best goddamn Special Education teacher I ever saw during the time we most knew each other, from 1995 to the early 00s, he was also, simultaneously up to all kinds of “good trouble” on many fronts that grew in number and degrees of commitment right up to his passing a few days ago.

The Journal story linked above (heck, this is the Internet, I’ll link it again) briefly relates some of Bailey’s prodigious 21st Century work and includes reflections from folks such as Rev. Charles Becknell, Sr., who knew Harold far better and far longer than I did. I only had the unsurpassed good fortune for a few years, really.

Still, having done a bit of newspaper research over the years prompted, unwittingly on his part, by Harold’s stupendously entertaining and thought-provoking anecdotes concerning his 1970s and beyond exploits, we’re going to pass along a few items over the next post or three. As teaser, let’s close today with a photo in which Dr. Bailey isn’t exactly at a poker table but is definitely at a table and is definitely playing some poker, if you get my drift.

Until next time…