James Hawkins was loved by so many of his students because he was always willing to spend time with them. Which makes it fitting James Hawkins died about to do the one thing he was known for doing throughout his career — visit with a student.
Hawkins spent 35 years on the journalism faculty at Florida A&M University. The last eight years of his career were as dean of School of Journalism and Graphic Communication. He was the embodiment of “the college of love and charity.”
News of his passing hit me harder than any similar announcement in my life. It was a sucker punch to the solar plexuses that I wanted to believe was a rumor—the type of rumor Dr. Hawkins and other professors would have told us to investigate, but ignore.
The rumors were devastatingly true. Students, graduates, professors and so many others were stunned by the fact a man with such a huge heart was killed by a heart attack. Emotions reverberated around the J-School family faster than breaking news around Orr Drive because everyone had a story about how James Hawkins’ lessons touched them.
For a three semester period my grades plummeted. At other schools I would have been discarded, or ushered aside. At Florida A&M there were conversations with Dr. Hawkins and other professors to try and figure out the cause of my uncharacteristic academic performance.
When it came down to it, I graduated — barely.
Receiving my degree from Dr. Hawkins remains one of the happiest moments of my life.
Years after I graduated I would stroll into his office to shoot the breeze and see what was going on. Every time I did, Dr. Hawkins was always happy to see me and hear about how my life progressed.
He would ask about my girlfriend, who eventually became my wife; how my job was going; how I was doing. He was always eager to hear what I had to say, even if he had students waiting outside his door.
A move to Texas eliminated those infrequent visits. It had been a couple years since my last visit to Hawkins’ office.
The last time I went to the J-School, in January, Hawkins was retired. There was someone new in the corner office of the fourth floor of the still-to-be-named journalism building. Our conversation was cordial, but it wasn’t the same.
Trying to recreate what was so natural with the Dean— I was only at FAMU for a semester when Dean Robert Ruggles retired so Dr. Hawkins will always be “the Dean” to me — was not going to come easy. As the months went by, I once again realized just what a gem we had in Dr. Hawkins.
The first time I gave money back to the university that conferred a degree on me, and my father before me, was when I was told a scholarship was being endowed in Hawkins’ name. The minimum donation was $100. I gave a little more than that. It was the least I could do — give more in honor of a man who did that until his dying breath.
The official announcement came on Facebook, from an alumna who is now a Senior Producer at CBS News.
“He was traveling back from Atlanta this afternoon and decided to stop and have an early dinner with a former student in Macon, Georgia. We all know that is just one of the reasons we loved Doc. He kept in touch with all of us and made us feel special. He texted the former student at 3:18 to say he had arrived, but when he had not come inside the restaurant by 3:30, she went outside to look for him and found him unresponsive in his car.”
As the swift and heartfelt reactions came in from classmates, friends and former Rattlers, I wound up liking the status of every person I knew who posted a tribute on social media. It was cheesy, but one of the few ways I knew to show them I was mourning with them.
In lieu of flowers, the Dean’s wife asked people to send donations to the James E. Hawkins Endowed Scholarship Fund. A donation would be a fitting way to continue the legacy of a man who gave everything for his students.
Laughs and liveliness,
-Wb
