Earl V. Byrd

Earl Vincent Byrd was born August 1, 1941. Sometime on August 3, 2004, he took his leave of us, deserting the earthbound, trading his laptop and camera for whatever heavenly tools are now at his disposal so he can continue to tell those stories fit for divine ears.Earl had three loves: music, women and writing, Mistresses all, who battled for his time and attention. When he was 15, he played saxophone in area nightclubs, always the love of jazz. But Earl was born to write, and found his niche-features on jazz and columns on women. He used writing to enthrone his other loves. A very private person, he put his thoughts and feelings into the piles of notebooks that fill his home and rival his CD collection in sheer numbers. The AFRO was blessed to carry some of those thoughts during his first tenure in 1984 and upon his return in 2001. Of his grandmother who raised him: “She was breathtakingly beautiful. She is the chief deity of all the God and ancestors in my religious world.” Of women: “In the twilight of my life, I am as enamored of the Black woman as I ever was in by buck stage.” Of justice: “That’s why the cold-hearted bitch called justice wears a blindfold. She can’t see, and many Blacks in the criminal justice system spell her name, ‘Just-Us.’ Of his time in jail: “ The view from this cell would drive me crazy before my time ran out. I could imagine the lovers getting married, having babies baptized in the church and then watching their kids grow up and go off to school.” He took his (AFRO) readership with him as he journeyed, with his dear mother, Elsie Vadis Dorsey, through her last illness and death. He was so close to her, taking care of her every need for as long as he possibly could. Recognized by the Maryland-Delaware-DC Press Association and the National Newspaper Publishers Association for his work, Earl thought every word he wrote was pure gold. That’s because writing was his passion. Earl just loved life. He always said he wanted to live to be 100. And he wanted to help young people escape some of the traps to which he’d succumbed in his early days. So he mentored young artists and writers, determined to give them a fighting chance at their destiny. His destiny always included his wife. Earl loved Renthea. When he talked about her, his last words always were, “That’s my baby.” Those who cherished his memory most are his wife of thirty-seven years, Renthea Byrd; two nephews, Daryl Reed and Dwayne Taylor; and a host of friends and relatives.

Tributes

Earl V. Byrd

August 1, 1941 - August 3, 2004