Finding My Father

This week on Shelley’s Plumbline… a revelation that changes everything.

Dr. Ricky Jones has spent his life speaking truth to power. But in this episode, he shares a truth of his own—one that’s raw, personal, and decades in the making.

For the first time publicly, Ricky reveals the identity of his father.
That man… is Dr. Shelley Stewart.

Yes—our Shelley.
Human Rights icon. Radio legend.
And the father Ricky never knew.

What happens when two men—strangers by circumstance, bound by blood—sit face-to-face for the first time?

You’ll want to hear this. The letter Ricky shared with our very own, Dr. Shelley Stewart, over 20 years ago. 

Follow us and continue the conversation on Facebook, Instagram, and LinkedIn.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00: 0:03

Hello, world, and welcome to Shelley's Plug Lab. A talk on tough topics hosted by Dr. Shelley Stewart. Shelley started broadcasting in 1949, and he has been on a journey to discover the truth for humanity ever since. And at 90 years of age, Shelly still sits down before the microphone and teachers who's answers to tough topics, challenging us to change the experience of being human and our outlook on humanity. Ladies and gentlemen, I am honored to present the newest member of the Radio Hall of Fame and the oldest podcaster in the world. Get ready.

SPEAKER_03: 1:32

That's right. I'm handing you, so I'm handing you this document. Okay. Uh, and uh I think you should ask the question. Who's the guy? Read that, please, for me. You want me to read this? Yes, all of it.

SPEAKER_00: 1:46

Don't take anything from it, add anything to it. It's gonna take a little bit, but here we go. The story of me and my father is complicated. It is one of two men so similar in fundamental ways that a casual observer would say, That makes sense. His father raised him to follow in his footsteps. That's where the complexities begin. My father didn't raise me. In fact, I didn't know him at all until I was a fully formed adult. Knowing that, the casual observer would say, Ah, this is just another example of a black man abandoning his child and demonize my father. Our story is not that simple either, though I believed it to be for a very long time. I told you, it's complicated. To understand, you need to go back to the beginning, 1967, Atlanta. That's when and where I was born to a mother far too young and unprepared to handle the responsibilities of motherhood. Consequently, caring for me fell to my grandmother, Linny Mae Jones. My grandmother was a titan of a woman. Born in 1933, rural Georgia. She never attended school and could read only enough to struggle through passages of the Bible. In her early twenties, after a tumultuous childhood and failed marriage, she journeyed to Atlanta with her two young children. She remained there until her death. My grandmother supported us by cleaning homes in Buckhead, Atlanta's wealthiest area, where I would eventually be bused to Northside High School. Though I attended high school on the affluent north side of the city, I grew up in the Carver Homes housing projects in southwest Atlanta. Carver Homes was not an easy place. Like most urban public housing, it was marked by shoddy maintenance, pest infestation, crime, addiction, disproportionately poor education, dysfunctional socialization, and a general sense of hopelessness. Such environs leave much to be desired. Contrary to popular belief, most residents of the projects are not oblivious to their conditions or supportive of the cultural underbelly that seizes their communities in a vice. Many, in fact, work doggishly to construct better lives against unimaginable odds. Others, of course, succumb to their circumstances and turn to compensatory behavior. Those who are broken and lose hope often tumble into lives where they have one tool available that's left to them, their bodies. Women use sex, men use violence, and a great percentage of both use drugs to escape. This was an everyday reality that adults and children alike in the projects normalized. It was simply the way of things. My own mother traveled that dark path. I witnessed it as she fell prey to addiction. I sat in pain and watched her decline as drugs ravaged her mind and body over the decades. They stole her hopes, dreams, and possibilities. She too was trying to escape a grim reality, but there was no escape for her, and her journey has not been easy or pretty. Indeed, those fortunate enough to survive rough and tumble projects and ghettos also often speak their exits from these neighborhoods as escapes. Unlike my mother, I am among that number. Unfortunately, we are in the minority. Most remain in those environs from birth to death. They are not shiftless, unmotivated pariahs. They are simply members of America's growing underclass, continuously crushed by the boot of a nasty brand of American capitalism, individualism, and racism that invariably benefits a few and disenfranchises, dismisses, and demonizes the many. This was the world in which my grandmother struggled to raise me. Illiterate, she made sure I learned to read. Not well traveled, she watched as I left home at 17 years old to explore the world. Not educated or professional, she smiled as I finished college, a PhD, and made my bones in a notoriously elitist and clannish profession. For all the negatives, fatherless project kids who ultimately become successful develop positive skill sets as well. Among other things, by necessity, we are vigilant, tough, smart, street and otherwise, fiercely independent, and unfailingly pragmatic. Those are the skills that carried me through. By genes and grace, I was a smart kid from the beginning. It was not athletics that would see me through, but my mind. By the time I met my father, I had become the first person in my immediate family to graduate high school. I had gone to prep school in Rhode Island and spent my first two years of college at the United States Naval Academy in Annapolis, Maryland. I returned home to finish graduate school at Moorehouse College, Martin Luther King Jr.'s alma mater, and I went on to earn a PhD from the University of Kentucky by the time I was 28. When I met my father years later, I was an established university professor and department chair. By my early 30s, my life was full of professional achievement and personal happiness. The last thing I needed was to meet the father who could walk up and spit on me, and I wouldn't know who he was. But even as I buried the trauma of a fatherless child so deep that it is hidden from me, I couldn't hide it from those closest to me. My longtime girlfriend, Tonya Edmund, certainly knew. Eventually her love for me prompted her to track my father down without my knowledge. Contacting him wasn't difficult. He was a man with a good deal of notoriety. I simply had never tried. After meeting him, Tonya said to me, Baby, I have to tell you something. You're going to be mad about it, but please hear me out. I found your father. I went to Birmingham to talk with him. He wants to meet you. She was right. I was very angry with her, but she was firm and loving about why she did it. Her argument was that I had gone far too long without knowing my father. She saw it as a source of trauma with which I was not in touch but needed to face. By this time I was an adult and considered myself tough and self-made. I was not enthusiastic about immersing myself into what I saw as childhood problems. I sincerely felt I had laid the subject of a father who unapologetically abandoned me to rest many years earlier. I didn't want to admit it, but there were crippling pain points in my life that would bleed through in key moments. I was wrong about not needing to address it all. The woman who loved me was right. She said to me, Nobody should go through life like this, baby. You've never met one of the two people who gave you life. It's like you're half a person. You need to be whole. Just meet him. You'll never have to deal with him again if you don't want to. Okay, I said. I'll do it. It'll be good to hear him explain himself. I want him to face me and own what he's done. I want him to know I made it without him. Then I never want to see that man again. He probably won't care. After all, he never tried to be a father to me in all these years, but I'm done with him after this. You understand? Yes, she said. A few weeks later, we headed to Birmingham. Certain things happen to people that are simply life altering. Once they occur, they serve as dividing lines in your life. You place the remainder of your years in the context of before and after those happenings. For me, finally meeting my father was such an event. Tanya and I arrived at my father's office, and attention could be cut with a knife. She left the room and allowed us in privacy after whispering to me half jokingly, please don't hit him. I had no violent intent, but there was no way I could mask my anger and doubt about the man. I began. Listen, I want to be clear. I don't want or need anything from you. No money, no nothing. This will probably be the first and last time I'll ever see you. My girlfriend just thought we should meet. He's probably right. Maybe I needed to meet you this one time so I can move on with my life. I don't need a father at this point, but we can certainly take a DNA test if you want, so you know I'm not sitting here running some game on you. My father calmly looked at me and tolerated my aggression. He responded, I don't need a DNA test, son. I know it's mine, and you're definitely mine. Look, with that, he showed me pictures of my grandmother with her skinny legs just like mine. She showed me my grandfather whose features I saw in the mirror daily. He showed me my uncle, my father's oldest brother, who gave his life for his country in Korea before he reached the age twenty. I looked so much like him it scared me. And then there was this man sitting in front of me. It looked like I was staring at myself thirty something years in the future. It was surreal. Then I asked the hard questions that had plagued me all my life and couldn't be avoided. Why didn't you want me? Why did you leave me? Why did you abandon me? How could you do that? You have no idea what I have been through. I started to cry as I continued. My father let me finish. He let me expel all my rage and scream it into existence. He was patient as I burned. And then he responded with all the sincerity in the world. I didn't leave you, son. I would never do that. I didn't know about you, and I'm sorry for that. I don't know what you've been through, but I'm going to find out. What I do know is that I'm your father and you're my son. We'll deal with whatever has happened in the past, but I'm not going to let you stay stuck there. We'll do what we have to do from this point together. Unexpectedly he rose up from his seat, pulled me to my feet, and hugged me. I cried more and was comforted for the first time in my life by my father. Not a father figure, my actual father. Let me tell you about me and your family, son, he said. What I followed with my father was a man who had a traumatic past of his own. It wasn't a pretty story. I sat and listened to the story of his life. I didn't like much of what I heard. There was so much pain. I mean real, deep-seated, gut-wrenching pain. To put it mildly, my father had a terrible childhood. He saw things no child should ever see. At five years old he witnessed the murder of his mother at the hands of his father. My father spoke of my grandfather, Huell Stewart, as a man with few, if any redeeming characteristics, who is willing to subject his sons to unspeakable indignities. With his mother gone, my father suffered inhumane abuses at the hands of his sadistic father, stepmother, and an aunt for almost two years before he set out on his own, alone on the streets of Birmingham at the tender age of six or seven. By the time we met, after a long line of trials, traumas, and tribulations, and successes, my father had become a prominent businessman with a long history of community advocacy. He was a civil rights icon in Birmingham. Interestingly, I was a professor who was teaching about people, from Martin Luther King Jr. to Hosea Williams, that my father actually knew. I was teaching about the civil rights movement of the 1950s and sixties that my father actually participated in. The similarities in our interests, work, and worldviews were uncanny. Maybe nature really does trump nurture in some instances. No, everything I found with my father wasn't comforting. I didn't like the fact that I was the descendant of murderers, drunks, and prisoners. But in the midst of it all, my father gave me and everything is gonna be alright smile. Tanya was right. For the first time in my life, I felt ill. My father's unexpected gift was his love, understanding, and patience. His very presence let me know where I came from. His smile gave me peace, serenity, and completion. I've been different ever since. I didn't follow through with my initial plan to meet my father and never interact with him again. Today, I'm also a father. I can hear the emotion in my old man's voice when he talks to my daughter, his grandchild, Jordan. He continuously calls, checks on her, and wants pictures from her volleyball trips and everything else. He's always adamant about how much he loves us and how proud he is of us. We love him and are proud of him too. I wish I had met my father sooner. I always wish we had more time, but we're making the best of what we have. After all, we're tough old boys from the streets of Birmingham and Atlanta. Nothing can break us individually. I'm damn sure can't break us now that we're together. Our story continues.

SPEAKER_03: 15:57

That's your first time. Why are you crying, man? You standing there. How can you not? I mean, if you're standing there crying, uh look who look and see who wrote that.

SPEAKER_00: 16:08

Look and see who wrote that. Let me see. Let me see. Does I have it on here the title? The title of the story is title of the story is Finding My Father by Ricky L. Jones.

SPEAKER_03: 16:20

That's him right there.

SPEAKER_00: 16:22

Is that it?

SPEAKER_03: 16:24

Hello. I'll call you many times. I I I don't call him Dr. Ricky Jones. I call him son most times. He called me Pops. And uh we've grown very close since that time. It took a long time for him to send that. As a matter of fact, he said it and it surprised me. I never dreamed I would have that. It's a story that I think that the world should see. He and I did not let anything bother us. He talked about things you heard him say in that. He talked about we don't talk about deal with family issues. We don't deal with that. We had so much fun since uh 2000, 2004, 2002. We had so much fun enjoying ourselves, learning each other and the likes. And the first time I hit her uh and saw Jordan, which is my grandbaby, she was an arm baby and daughter and I held a clean breakfast he brought me. So uh today Jordan is uh now black 1617 driving now 18. He's going to uh University of Chicago, simple basket volleyball player, wonderfully. I'm a proud man of that. But most importantly, the relationships this is very important. We did not let his father past family, I did not let him pass to my family. We decided we would join at the hip and become very close to each other and work as where we are today. With that being said, uh Ricky, would you Dr. Jones son? What are you why are you crying, man? I'm looking, why do you why are you crying? I I'm so proud. You often say how proud you are me, but I'm very proud of you. Very proud of you.

SPEAKER_02: 18:33

Thank you, Pop. Mark, you off camp. Mark, why are you crying, man?

SPEAKER_00: 18:38

Between the two of your stories, I mean, how can you not?

SPEAKER_03: 18:41

What do you have to say about that, Ricky?

SPEAKER_02: 18:43

Yeah, you know, you know, oh man, I haven't um read that or heard it, certainly in nobody else's voice, since I wrote it some years ago. And um, you know, I'm thankful. I'm really thankful. Um, you know, I just had a a birthday and went to church and and prayed and was thinking about my life and wasn't sad anymore about the loss of my grandmother. I only think of her and you know, the positive stuff now. Uh made it through the years, uh, raising Jordan as as well as I could. And I'm so incredibly proud of her. She is um a really good child, a blessing. As you said, she's getting ready to head off to college after her senior year this upcoming year. And I certainly thought about our relationship. You know, we talk a lot, and growing up with all that doubt and not knowing, and really feeling abandoned, and then finding out, well, that wasn't exactly the way things happened. Um, you know, it it can be tough, but to get to other side of it um has been it's been it's been a blessing it's it's really been a blessing yeah you know now I'm about now I'm about to cry again mark well Ricky well for sure uh we never talk about the success of what I've done in my life and and I certainly I flawed with you what you're doing and what we do and I've discovered something that you are devoting your life now and you have devoted your life in for education whatever it is became a passion of yours uh and I don't say why I'm not gonna ask you that question how you do that I just know you did it and you did well and it seemingly that the rest of your life will be involved in education that is where I've been for many many years education is the key and for many years to come about it I think at that time I I met Ricky he was 33 or 34 years old had done very great done things but I liked about what he said he's gonna beat my butt see he looked at me in the eye just staring at me I I don't come here wanting anything from you I thank you for the genes I thank you for the genes I'm looking at this guy he sounded so much like me standing there you know and looking right at me and I like the way he was looking me in the eye and he was just he's let he was letting me have it you know I said good that's good and it was it was a good feeling and I said and it was when that and we were able to grow as a result uh his his life has been very very very very his life and my life added a lot uh when uh I was in Declan they called it in the Radio Hall of Fame yeah he said what you said me son you said it's about time what do you say about that it was long overdue yeah why long overdue it's it's why was that well I think it was long overdue because of what we talked about in the last episode if people have a sense of history they understand what that communication platform can do for black folk and did do for black folk but it wasn't used the same way by everybody and I I think that you were very very committed whether you use the term civil rights human rights freedom movement it's all the same thing you were very committed to black human dignity and the way that you lived your own life individually and what you tried to give to the community you don't encounter that a lot um so that's that's something I was very happy for you on but I'm very proud of you um for for what you've done as a human being and how you've been committed to our people because a lot of people have not done that. A lot of folks I'm not proud of you because you made money you know that I'm I'm fundamentally I'm not a capitalist. I mean I work to make money to support myself to support my child because we we're in a capitalist society but I think people worry about money way way too much and don't worry about how much folk are pouring into the forward progress of humanity. And so I think that was um so that's why I think it was long overdue. And I I think it's largely because we live in a country where things like that really are not fully appreciated. And so that's important.

SPEAKER_03: 23:42

That was important to me I find that uh I'm told now which I never paid any attention they said do you realize you were never syndicated but you were in so many markets and I never gave it a thought I said oh my God I was but I was in many markets they said well he was never syndicated and at that time negroes blacks didn't have the opportunity to be syndicated in American media but what they did what I had to do I made a deal with the white owners in various markets because of my powers within the community that they wanted me to come into their community in their stations and and be there during rating periods and all the rating sets season and I went to three Louisiana stay there for six weeks contract Jackson Mississippi stay there six weeks uh KTZ in uh St.

SPEAKER_02: 24:50

Louis Missouri six weeks I got Atlanta for a year I know Georgia for a year so I went to all these places because I couldn't get a syndication about relationships uh in these communities in every all all these states I left the mark of unity of people and went in those communities and that's where it was more than just about the music it was about passing the message of education you know and that's what's key right because a lot of people I think will pay attention to you because of the professional achievements the the radio um certainly money they'll pay attention to me for the same things or you went to these you know ended up going to these elite schools Naval Academy Morehouse you know flagship institution in Kentucky professor at 28 department child that none of that really matters you know uh at the end of the day the the important thing for me in this story two core things one forgiveness which is really really important um my grandmother told me we are all too much in need of forgiveness not to give it to others if they ask for it. So you can get I could have gotten stuck in a certain place and and just never forgave you know and and never really knew anything been open to forgiveness at all. But also important in the story for me is the incredible importance of fatherhood. That is a central thing for me because unfortunately for for me and my father even though we're a lot alike he didn't get to pass things to me as a child and guide me as a child and an adolescent in effect his story is one of struggle pain and tragedy but then the the clock got reset it started over you know nothing was passed so mine was you know starting that same level of struggle and and you know I I didn't want that for Jordan I I I wanted Jordan to be able to achieve things in life both emotionally psychologically athletically academically socially because of her environment and the things that are poured into her as a child not in spite of and so I think that's a really important story um important lesson to learn and certainly important as people talk about these these rifts between parents children and certainly black fathers and their sons that you can start off bad for one reason or another but you can end beautifully and if if anybody can take anything away from that to help them along I would hope that's what they take away from from from our story mark we've had a great time today uh I know that you're crying I put it on you not as much as you guys I I I put it on you man you he has no desire no reason to to do that but I know I stuck it to you but it needed to be done well you did a great job you were great mark I was listening to that and I was like wow I wrote that this guy sounds great yeah you did a remarkable job the story's out there and I hope that the country the world benefit from this episode of the Academy of Common Sense Dell's Plumline we have much more to say Ricky from time to time would you come back and chat with us look oh man anytime I mean I I enjoy I think the conversations that we've had in private over the years people would benefit from them both about family um about pain and recovery and also about you know politics and the future of our of our people um that's that's very important that we can pass that that stuff along because we none of us know how long we have here so we we we need to you know as as they used to say put it on wax they ain't putting it on wax anymore but we need to record these things for posterity I think and um so I love you man um more than you know always rooting for you and and I'm blessed that you know you passed this way and and I'm blessed that God brought us together.

SPEAKER_03: 29:10

Yes Buck what do you think about that young man on the other side over there I can't wait to talk to him some more yes well uh he'll see you by the way next month or so all right looking forward to that looking forward and I'll talk to you later on but you're making me cry now I know Jordan back there listening she's sneaking and listening to go and she's crying possibly too she's fan like a baby anyway there's your side there's my side and somewhere in the middle there is the truth Phoenix we're a man at my house he's so big and strong he goes to work each day and he stays all day long he comes home each night looking time he sits down at the dinner table and has a bite episode of Shelly's Plumb Line was written, produced and edited by Drelly Stuart at the Arkham it was produced by Stuart Production at the Plumb Line Studios in Derek Elemental.

SPEAKER_00: 30:43

If you are a fan of Shelly's Plumb Line and you like what we are doing here please remember to subscribe on your podcast platform of choice to give us a review and share this podcast with other follow us and continue the conversation on Facebook, Instagram and LinkedIn this is March analysis I will stay in that week to turn a lot