A Friend Lost

"See you later, I appreciate you."

Those were the last words I exchanged with Dr. David Langston.

We were standing along one baseline a couple of weeks ago as Franklin County and Cottondale readied to play a region championship game with a trip to the state final four on the line.

If there was a basketball game underway in Northwest Florida, odds were pretty good David Langston was in attendance.

Whether within the often too-sparse crowds at a Port St. Joe High girls' game or a boys' contest - he loved the Tiger Sharks and enjoyed working with Coach Derek Kurnitsky - Dr. Langston was sitting or standing there.

And he was always Dr. Langston to me.

He had earned the title, earned the respect, just for his drive and passion for children and for the foundation that was a tribute to that passion and his brother, who died way too early in life.

Ralph Rish said something while I was writing the story about Dr. Langston's passing that struck me.

"He was what he preached and part of that was loyalty," Rish said. "If you were loyal to him, you had the best friend for life."

Many was the day that Dr. Langston would sit - using that term loosely as anybody who knew Dr. Langston would attest - in my office and talk about an endeavor he was undertaking, be it with his foundation or his annual banquet and basketball tournament, and those discussions meandered into the world beyond.

About Dr. Langston's belief that no matter the start in life a child has, if he or she is willing to work hard and be dedicated and respectful, they could go far.

He would talk about people like Gene Raffield, Walter Wilder and Gertrude Jackson, how they had nurtured his brother Norris and he after the brothers lost their parents at a young age.

He would talk about Mr. Rish and others who had assisted him and fueled his drive to give back to the community inhabited by the very people who had taken a kid who could have gotten lost in the shuffle and put him on the right path.

Basketball rarely came up.

The Norris D. Langston Youth Scholarship Foundation always did.

Dr. Langston loved the game of basketball, played it as well, arguably, as any individual who has ever come out of Port St. Joe or the county, for that matter, according to those privileged to have seen him, but it was far from a defining characteristic.

To Dr. Langston, if he or his foundation could reach even one child, helped turned them in the proper direction, be it with the after-school, mentoring or motivational programs his foundation offered, then the day was a success.

Those days were too short for him. He was one of the hardest working men I have ever met, fueled by some unseen passion that bubbled up through that sometimes gruff exterior and gravelly voice.

A passion to give back, just as others had given to him.

We talked about politics and race, about the changing face of the community and what was required to foster more growth, more opportunities, more of everything that would benefit a child.

And as we talked his phone would continually ring.

Eugene Raffield was right when he said Dr. Langston could get more done from a "car office" than anybody he knew, because that cell phone of his must have had unlimited minutes because he was always making or receiving calls.

I always found it humorous that despite his deep, raspy voice, Dr. Langston would feel the need to constantly change the phone in his hand depending on whether he was listening or speaking, moving the speaker closer when talking, planting it to his ear when listening.

Technology was only necessary for carrying out his mission, his goals. Old-fashioned leg work was his modus operandi.

We knew each other's vehicles and he'd see my driving past and while he'd acknowledge me, heaven help me if I were to divert him from an important phone call that might result in more resources for his foundation, more opportunities for his children.

There were simply no gray areas when it came to his kids, or much else for that matter. He was strong and opinionated, maybe some would say cantankerous; his opinions informed by a life dedicated to working the halls of power on behalf of those who wouldn't understand empowerment unless somebody showed them the way.

That was Dr. Langston's job, no, calling, his crusade.

And he was constantly on that crusade. The days contained too few hours for Dr. Langston, an inhibitor to his overarching cause, to provide the opportunity for young people to make their lives better.

He didn't provide handouts, there were no free passes. He wanted only to offer what had been offered when he was young by a select few people who saw promise in the young David Langston - a hand, an opening, a chance.

Today, on a sad Monday as this is written, I have lost a man that, in the words of Rish, was a best friend.

And I ask myself how we as a community fill the yawning footprints he left behind.

For more on the life of Dr. David Langston see this week's edition of The Star.