Rick Robinson: Wendell Ford, statesman whose word was bond, ‘greatest Jaycee of all’

When my wife Linda and I first started dating, it is safe to say she was apolitical. Opposites attract, I suppose. She humored me as I drug her around the state to campaign fundraisers and various civic events. To my fault, only a political geek would consider a trip to Fancy Farm as a date.

In those days, my membership in the Kentucky Jaycees was central to my civic involvement. In 1956, Wendell Ford served as President of the United States Jaycees (known then as the Junior Chamber of Commerce). He was likely the most successful president ever of the organization. One statewide meeting we attended, Ford addressed the membership.

In speeches, Ford had a way of picking out two or three people in a crowd and seemingly delivered his the entire speech to those select folks. It many ways it was subtle. He didn’t ignore the rest of the audience, but he made direct eye contact with those few and, in the process, served up all his best lines to them.

The day Ford spoke to the Kentucky Jaycees, Ford picked out the pretty blond sitting next to the geek from Ludlow as the person to whom he would speak. Ford made Linda feel like every word of his speech was just for her. The jokes – the calls to action – were all delivered with Ford looking right at her.

Linda was smitten – and not with me. At the end of Ford’s speech, my apolitical girlfriend was inspired and wanted to meet the speaker.

And that was the essence of Wendell Ford.

Coming from a generation of public servants who actually looked people in the eye when they shook their hand and didn’t look around you to see who else was there, you couldn’t help but genuinely like Wendell Ford. Political ideology aside, Ford was a Kentucky statesman whose word was his bond.

Ford liked to tell people his political gravitas evolved via his involvement with the Jaycees. To Kentuckians, Wendell Ford was a successful politician. To a generation of Jaycees, he was a deity – a larger than life figure who lived the words of the Creed that professed faith, brotherhood, rules of law and service to humanity.

As the eternal Jaycee, Ford gave young people a foundation to believe they could change the world.

Jaycees around the nation shed a tear this week as our greatest leader passed into the Hands of the Father. Like our fallen brother, we still believe “faith in God gives meaning and purpose to human life.”

If you don’t understand the reference, ask a Jaycee.

The last time I saw Senator Ford, we sat next to each other on a plane. We chatted about the lessons we learned from our respective days in the organization. He was still wearing the Jaycee crest ring he was given to commemorate his year as national president.

And he told me to give his regards to that pretty blond.

Rick Robinson is a Northern Kentucky lawyer and author of political thrillers which can be purchased on Amazon and at book stores everywhere. His novel, Manifest Destiny, has won seven writing awards, including Best Fiction at the Paris Book Festival. His latest novel is Alligator Alley. This column first appeared on Rare and is reprinted with permission.