Let me welcome you each here as we celebrate the life of a remarkable Virginian, a true American hero, Mr. Oliver Hill.
On behalf of the Commonwealth of Virginia, I extend my deep sympathy to Mr. Hill’s family—Duke and Renee, his grandchildren, great-grandchildren, many other relatives and friends. Virginia stands with you at this time of loss. But, Virginia also expresses to you its profound gratitude over Mr. Hill’s life, because this Commonwealth owes him a tremendous amount.
I am humbled to stand here, at your request, to offer this eulogy. I first learned of Mr. Hill when I was in college and read about his role in the civil rights movement. I have been fortunate to know him as a friend for more than 20 years. But, there are others more qualified than me to eulogize him. There are many who know Mr. Hill better than I do. There are many who have known him longer that I have. There are many who lived the experience Mr. Hill lived in a way that I have not.
Still there is some justice—poetic justice—in the Governor of Virginia eulogizing Mr. Hill. If someone had said to Mr. Hill
In his days at Howard
In his battles against Virginia to obtain equal pay for teachers
In his fight against the Commonwealth to desegregate public schools
In his speech to the General Assembly opposing Massive Resistance
“you will lie in state at the Governor’s Mansion and be eulogized by the Virginia Governor one day,” he would have laughed at the sheer outlandishness of that statement. (I can almost hear him now!) In fact, he probably would then have said something like “I’ve known many Governors who would have been very pleased to attend my funeral—and the sooner the better.”
I shared the seeming incongruity of this moment with a friend and he replied “times change.” But that’s too easy. Times don’t just change. It takes real leaders, people of vision and courage, to change their times.
Mr. Hill changed his times. He changed our times for the better. I believe that no Virginian in the past 100 years has had such an impact on the life of our Commonwealth as Oliver Hill. In the words of Daryl Cumber Dance, printed in your program, Mr. Hill “moved America from the darkness of the 19th Century to the promise of the 21st.”
Let’s think for a minute with you about how he did it. How did Mr. Hill move us from a difficult past to a more promising future?
We know about the Virginia he was born into—separate but equal had been declared the law of the land, the Commonwealth that had just rewritten its Constitution for the express purpose of eliminating opportunities for African-Americans at all levels. We know how he felt that discrimination at an early age in Richmond and Roanoke and Washington and how he decided that he could work within the legal system to change society.
We know about his personality, intelligence, perseverance, humor, courage—all those traits that made this wonderful man who he was.
We know about his family, his beloved wife Bernie and Duke, and so many others whose support he relied on to keep pressing on.
We know about the cases he worked on—voting, employment, housing, criminal justice, education--his political work, the organizations he founded, his ceaseless strategizing, the fact that he was always thinking about the next challenge.
We know all this—but there’s something more. Mr. Hill helped our Commonwealth shake off the shackles of the past not by inventing something new. Instead, he helped us embrace a better future by reminding Virginians of some old truths, some timeless truths, and insisting—over and over again—that we just live in accord with our beliefs.
One day a lawyer stood up and asked a wise man an important question.
“Master, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?”
Jesus replied:
“What is written in the law?”
The lawyer answered:
“Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy strength, and with all thy mind; and thy neighbor as thyself.”
And Jesus said:
“Thou has answered right, this do and thou shalt live.”
But, the lawyer (I can’t resist with so many lawyers in attendance!) asked that all-important final question “And who is my neighbor?”
We all know the answer that Jesus gave. A man, robbed, beaten and laying on the side of the road, sought help from passersby on the road between Jericho and Jerusalem. A priest ignored him, a Levite ignored him. Finally, a Samaritan—a despised minority to those hearing the story—came and helped the injured man. And now Jesus asked his question: “which of the three was the neighbor to the one who fell among thieves?”
“The one who showed him mercy.”
Mr. Hill was a good neighbor. He was a Samaritan. He lived the way he was taught to live and he reminded Virginians that we have a duty to treat each other as neighbors, as brothers and sisters, and our mercy should extend especially to those in need. He worked for the empowerment of African-Americans, but it was bigger than that. His life was about the dignity and worth of all people.
They called Mr. Hill a radical, a rabble-rouser. They threatened him and his family and burned a cross on his lawn. They passed laws making it a criminal offense for Mr. Hill and others to seek out clients to challenge discriminatory laws. Why? Because he decided his mission in life was to remind people to “love thy neighbor as thyself.”
Did the people who fought him every step of the way know the story of the Good Samaritan? Of course they did! But, in the infinite capacity of mankind to delude itself, people of the day could read that message, hear it preached on Sunday, swear that they believed it—but still not be willing to live by it. America needed a reminder—Oliver Hill reminded us.
Oliver Hill reminded Virginians of something dear to all Virginians. “All men are created equal.” This wasn’t new. It flows directly from “love thy neighbor as thyself.” It was written into the Declaration of Independence by the most famous of all Virginians, Thomas Jefferson. Every public official who ever voted for a discriminatory law, every judge who ever ruled that discrimination was acceptable, virtually every citizen who supported segregation knew from their earliest days of schooling that our country was “dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.” But, America had to be reminded to live that way. Oliver Hill reminded us.
I believe that was the genius of Oliver Hill. He was a creative thinker—if you read his book “The Big Bang” and wrestle with his concepts of “progressive evolution” and “utopian societies” you will see that his mind was not stuck in the past. But, he also knew that, while there are new thoughts, ideas and challenges—there are also timeless values, values that people understand at some level, and the way to get to a brighter future was to tap into those timeless values with confidence that people would come to realize that there is a better way to live. He never stopped doing this.
So, Mr. Hill’s life reminds us to ask some basic and difficult questions. Do we love our neighbors as ourselves? Do we show mercy to those in need? In this world, in this nation, in this city, in this room—there are people who need and deserve our love. Will we live that way?
Do we really believe that “all” are created equal? Regardless of race or religion or nationality or sex or orientation or income? We say we believe it. Our Commonwealth and nation claim to be based on it. Will we live that way?
Mr. Hill brought Virginia into the future by reminding us of old and timeless wisdom. He accomplished more than anyone in the last century in this Commonwealth, but his work isn’t done. His life stands here as a shining example, but—appropriate to the man—his life also serves as a loving challenge.
Are we up to it?