One of my favorite films is “The Fault in Our Stars,” directed by Josh Boone. Based upon the brilliant novel by Indiana author John Green, the film details two teens’ battle with cancer, and more importantly, their shared determination to experience life’s riches.
One scene contains the memorable line, “Life is but a flicker.” In most regards, it is true. Life can seem to pass as rapidly as the flicker of a flame.
However, I don’t think Mr. Arthur Carter Sr. would agree with this assessment.
An original Tuskegee Airman who died Tuesday at age 92, Mr. Carter, as I and many others always addressed him, was a unique individual who truly lived life to the fullest.
His was a great life – not only in regards to his longevity, but also through his plethora of activities and experiences. A straightforward man who told you very clearly what he thought, he was also a teddy bear who could intimidate some, but deep down was a softy who loved to be doted upon.
I was always more than happy to dote over him because he was a very special person. I was fascinated with him because of his life experiences. It intrigued me to hear stories about his years as a youth and his undying love for the grandmother who raised him after his parents passed away.
I loved to hear his stories of Indianapolis back in the day compared to now, and how he became a self-made man who both worked and played hard.
To hear his experiences as an airman was also a treat.
I’ll never forget his story about the time he met Lena Horne as the legendary singer bestowed a once in a lifetime kiss upon him.
I appreciated the privilege of hearing oral history of a not-so kind time when discrimination was at its peak, and how Mr. Carter was able to navigate the racial waters and integrate into other cultures while remaining true to his own.
Anyone who knew Art Carter knew he could talk for extended periods of time when he was in the mood.
I craved the discussions he and I had because I was able to learn so much about life, business and men. Yes, Mr. Carter probably betrayed the ‘man code’ by telling me manly secrets, but said he wanted me to be prepared.
“If you know what you’re getting from men, you’ll know what to give,” he would often say. I always appreciated his blunt honesty.
The past several weeks have been very difficult for me with the recent passing of the Recorder’s Owner and Publisher Bill Mays and now Mr. Carter.
Mr. Mays and Mr. Carter were both huge figures in my life. For a girl who grew up without a father, God certainly made up for it with those two and other elders who have mentored, guided and loved me.
With them, an incredibly hard-working, intelligent and strong mother and female mentors, I really couldn’t ask for more.
The day after Mr. Carter passed away, I spoke with one of his daughters. To have her tell me how much her dad loved me brought me to tears. I always knew it, as Mr. Carter showed it in his own special way and told me so verbally; it was heartwarming to know he told others too.
In addition to losing the personal support of Mr. Carter, there is a professional loss as well. Mr. Carter was a lifetime supporter of the Indianapolis Recorder Newspaper. As a child he delivered the Recorder and as an adult he continued to cherish our publication, even serving as our Controller for many years.
He often encouraged people to support the Recorder through advertising and subscriptions. When he saw certain people profiled in the paper, he’d ask me if they had a subscription and if they did not, he would not hesitate to call them and tell them why they needed to subscribe.
This blend of activism, dedication and support is hard to come by these days.
Another thing I witnessed in action from both Mr. Carter and Mr. Mays was the way they mentored others. Mr. Carter and Mr. Mays mentored countless individuals, no surprise given their relationship with one another. When Mays’ father passed away, Mr. Carter stepped right in and mentored him.
The debt was repaid as Mr. Mays always ensured Mr. Carter was taken care of in the years that followed.
Within a span of a few weeks, our community has lost these two giants. They will be deeply missed. I ask for you to join me with prayer for these two bereaved families.
