On Lawrence and Pum

Ten years ago, Lawrence, “my little brother,” and I used to play chicken with the cars on Connecticut Avenue in Washington, DC during rush hour. Imagine zigzagging through moving traffic with three lanes in each direction. One mistake and one knows the outcome.

One evening, Lawrence chased a bicycle thief down Connecticut Avenue after we exited Four Provinces in Cleveland Park. He ran so fast and almost caught the bandit who furiously rode away on the stolen merchandise.

However, emotional strength – not physical strength – is what propels the athlete, the artist, the musician, or the scientist for that matter.

After an ice storm during the winter of 1998, at 8:30 PM, I ran sprints on my favorite field adjacent to Howard Law School. The night sky was black without stars, and I ran for 45 minutes after the ice had coagulated on the grass. I’m sure if anyone had seen me slip on a concrete walkway en route to the field, they would surely think me crazy especially when I laughed after falling on my back. But, the experience was cathartic. In fact, when I stop smoking, I’ll do it again.

Lawrence and I used to silently sit for hours at a time. Then, one of us turned to the other to share a thought or conclusion. There may have been an exchange of two-to-four sentences at times. Lawrence said often: “I’m writing a book in my head. Everyone has a valid perspective, and every perspective should be regarded.” As a result, I've become a collector of perspectives, which means that you have to talk to a lot of people openly and honestly.