‘He raised a generation’: Loved ones celebrate the life of Randolph Bracy Jr.

In the darkened auditorium of First Baptist Orlando, hundreds of people rose to their feet and cheered in reaction to a clip of Rev. Randolph Bracy Jr. preaching.

As Bracy shouted in his baritone voice, the crowd gripped onto his every word. They held tightly on his suspenseful pauses and joined him in his rapturous roars. Some waved white handkerchiefs, which Bracy was known for using on stage to keep sweat from his eyes and to emphasize points in his sermons.

This was early in the four-hour marathon celebration-of-life service on Saturday for Bracy, who died on Father’s Day, June 18. He was 78.

Bracy was the president of the Orange County NAACP branch from 2007 to 2010. In that position, he championed an aggressive agenda that, for example, fought for work and training programs for Black residents to be included in plans for Amway Center, which was under construction at the time, and the Citrus Bowl, which was being renovated.

He and his wife of 48 years, LaVon Bracy, founded New Covenant Baptist Church in 1992. And in the 30 years since it was created, the church has grown to have more than 2,000 members. In 2012, the two retired from the church.

Beginning in 2013 and up until his death, Bracy served as the founding dean of the religious studies school at Bethune-Cookman University, where he earned his bachelor’s degree in 1967. At the time, it was called Bethune-Cookman College.

Bracy and LaVon have two children: state Rep. LaVon Bracy Davis and former state Sen. Randolph Bracy IIl.

“What do you say about a man who is larger than life? A man who can capture a room, capture your heart, capture your mind, capture your soul?” asked the younger Bracy near the beginning of the service. “I struggled with what to say about my dad … he’s indescribable.”

Speakers who had known the elder Bracy throughout the decades shared stories and preached equally in mourning and in celebration of his life and legacy.

To some, he was a lifelong friend. One who would often call to check in and always ended conversations with a prayer. One who, at a moment’s notice, would be there if his friends were sick or in financial trouble or just needed someone to talk with. To others, Bracy was a mentor who handed them opportunities, even when they themselves didn’t believe they were ready.

Khalfani Drummer, a pastor in Washington D.C., first met Bracy in Philadelphia over 30 years ago.

At the time, Drummer was beginning to preach and he said Bracy pushed him to go to seminary for some much-needed theological training. Before long, Bracy put Drummer in charge of the 8 a.m. service. Drummer, who at that point had only twice preached in public, was nervous. But after some time, he succeeded Bracy, who left for Orlando with his family in 1991.

“He pushed me, he prepared me, he positioned me to do the best that I could in ministry,” Drummer said. “I was just happy to be near Pastor Bracy, receiving the drops of sweat from his forehead so that I might get some nuggets of wisdom.”

In 2018, Chris Newcomb got a call asking him to meet with Bracy on the campus of Bethune-Cookman. Bracy told Newcomb the school of religion was in need of a chairperson and he wanted to know if Newcomb would consider taking the job.

“After a moment, I could only think to say, ‘Why me?'” Newcomb said on Saturday. “[Bracy’s] immediate response: ‘Why not you?'”

Newcomb took the position the next day because Bracy “believed in me,” he said. In the years that followed, he has employed Bracy’s words and asked his own students, “Why not you?”

Bracy grew up in Jacksonville. He was the child of a barber and beautician, neither of whom graduated high school. Their only son, Bracy, went on to earn four college degrees.

In his office, he had a map with marks that indicated the places he had been. There were many, as he had been all over the country as well as every continent except Antarctica.

He’s also rubbed shoulders with the famous and influential. A video montage at the service showed pictures of Bracy with Johnnie Cochran, Bill Clinton, Muhammad Ali, Barack Obama and Coretta Scott King among many others.

After his death, many local, state and federal officials, including President Joe Biden and Vice President Kamala Harris, sent messages of condolence to the family and praised Bracy for his public service.

During the celebration of life, many spoke about Bracy’s command of the English language. Many quoted Bracy’s coined words and phrases how someone would reference the writing of their favorite author. Some lines mentioned Saturday include, “Let me put my kickstand down,” “Bring the camera a little closer,” and “If life got any better, I couldn’t stand it.”

“Every single day that I had a conversation with Dr. Bracy — he didn’t know this — but I would go back to my computer and research the words that he had spoken to me,” said Marvin Jackson, who Bracy hired as a pastor for New Covenant Baptist Church. “He was literally a walking dictionary.”

His daughter, LaVon Bracy Davis, said from an early age she had to learn to share her father with others who saw him as a parental figure and called on him when they needed help.

“While I have not always wanted to share him, I am happy I did,” she said, “because this world is better because we all got to experience this great father.”

She rejects reports that say her father raised a political dynasty, referring to her and her brother. She said, rather, her father raised a generation.

“He raised a generation who would speak up for the poor, the disenfranchised, disadvantaged,” she said before using one of her father’s favorite lines: “Work is the rent we pay for the space we occupy.”

Looking out to the crowd, she said the commonality through all her father’s work, accomplishments, devotions and relationships has been service for good.

“So we must do as my daddy has done: take out our handkerchiefs, wipe the sweat off of our faces, blot the tears from our eyes and keep working, keep fighting, keep speaking truth to power,” she said. “Because although [my father’s] work is done, the work is not finished.”

ccann@orlandosentinel.com