Page 2 of Mr. Big Stuff

When she packed her box to leave, Vanessa would have about fifteen bottles of perfume she accumulated with her things, to take with her. Between that and her makeup, she’d have two boxes. However, perfume was the thing that stood out the most because she had them out on her file cabinet like it was a vanity instead of a storage space for records. Every morning the aroma of whatever perfume she chose for the day filled the office until it reached me seated at my desk, and I coughed on it. My mom would say only someone who stank would need that much perfume, but I would never find out because Vanessa and her things would be leaving soon.

“Before you say another word, let me stop you.” She looked so excited I almost felt bad for her. Almost.

I let out another sigh. “When I hired you, it was for your credentials and nothing else. And since that time, I’ve seen your potential …” I nearly shook my head as she smiled with the belief that praise was falling from my lips, “to be a problem. And I was right. I need you to pack up and leave.”

“But …but, Mr. McCullough.”

“Oh, I’m Mr. McCullough now but wasn’t when you came in here five minutes ago. Ms. Jones, we can’t go backwards. It’s clear that you don’t understand my boundaries as a man, but more importantly, as your boss. You have to go now.”

I turned away from the sight of enlightenment reaching her face. The moment she realized she lost at her own game. I heard the loud stomps of her feet leaving my office and turned back to my laptop where I was struggling with an event plan to present to sponsors. I wanted, no needed Mr. Khalil Berry, to become the largest sponsor because what I planned to achieve required a little more oomph aka money, than before. Ms. Jones was, albeit unsuccessfully, helping me get a conversation with the man.

“How was I going to get this shit done now?”

As Mr. Black of Pittsburgh, I was responsible for organizing a Juneteenth event to celebrate the time when enslaved Black people in Texas were finally notified they were free and the physical freedom from bondage my people have experienced since then. Many events took place in Pittsburgh to celebrate Juneteenth and had since I was a kid. Adding to the fray in a meaningful way took work and that meant me giving it everything I had, while managing an already busy business.

To be honest, I would kid myself into believing I loved putting it together when all it did was stress me. That was until the day of the event and seeing my community come out and have a good time together. That was when I felt great about it all, but until then, I wanted to pull tufts of hair out my scalp over the amount of work required in making it all happen without a visible kink. It was all worth it, however. The organization I lead at a chapter level for nearly three years, was embedded in my soul. I was made for the Mr. Black organization and when I was elected at a city level to run the Pittsburgh chapter, I felt like it might have been my greatest accomplishment next to starting my business.

Mr. Black was established in 1965 as a secret organization at the height of the civil rights movement to be a light of hope in Black communities across the nation. In 1973, the organization went public, and Pittsburgh formed it's chapter in 1985 in hopes to deal with an emerging drug problem that was leaving families broken and young men displaced from being who they were meant to be in their homes and communities. If a man couldn’t lead with integrity first, he couldn’t guide his family, therefore the family structure would fall. That was the believe of Rodney Davis, the first president of the Pittsburgh chapter.

My involvement in the Black communities in and surrounding Pittsburgh is what captured the attention of Michael Jones, the previous president. I’d been a part of the organization already and was content to pay my dues, get involved in my free time, but when he approached me at a chapter meeting about him putting me up for nominations, something in my spirit didn’t fight. I’m happy I didn’t. It’s been a gift to be a Black man, making Mr. Black stronger than ever in my city and the events we put on were about more than socializing. They were about impacting real change you could see and feel.

My first year as Mr. Black I held a black-tie gala auction night that the city talked about for over a month and earned me a place in Pittsburgh’s top thirty over thirty and a featured article in the Tribune. That event provided outreach centers with funding that spanned a year and also the renovation of a under-resourced school in the city’s Homewood section where I my office was located.

The second year, I had a bingo night, something the community hadn’t seen on that scale. Families of Black women, granddaughters, cousins, aunties, and good friends came in epic numbers to support their Mr. Black family members. The community was invited in as well and it would be something unforgettable. Winners won vacations, cash, TVs, groceries for a year, and health care visits as well. This year, I wanted to switch it up and pay homage to the old way of Black people gathering and putting on a good time. I was organizing a huge block party in the heart of Homewood, featuring local entertainment, vendors, giveaways, food, culture. Black excellence wrapped in comfort, something so important needed serious effort.

Vanessa had unsuccessfully connected with one of the biggest names in Pittsburgh, Khalil Berry of KIB Enterprises, in my attempt at getting donations from his company. His PR person, Vorhees Mitchell, informed Vanessa that Mr. Berry wanted to hear me pitch, so he knew exactly what would be most beneficial to the community but so far, his schedule hadn’t lined up with mine for a call.

Even if I could get the biggest brain in Pittsburgh to donate something from his multibillion-dollar software company, I still needed a headliner for the music show. I had a couple of local musicians that were just aight but I needed someone that would have this Juneteenth celebration talked about for years to come.

When I left my position as Mr. Black, after next year, I wanted it to be said Raymond McCullough had done all he could do to bring his chapter forward.

Chapter3

Tracey

“Do you need that man? Do you need that job? Or are you just comfortable and too afraid to find out what life would be like if you shake it up a bit? Let’s get into it on Soul Talk. I’m your host, Zola Berry, and twice a month I talk to you about whatever is going to help your soul flourish. So, find a quiet spot to chill out and accept only gentle thoughts during this discussion, because your soul needs it.”

Soulful instrumental music can be heard playing before Zola’s voice returns.

“I know you all missed the banter between my husband and me, so I asked him to drop in to share his thoughts on self-progression as it pertains to Black people. Say ‘hi’, Khalil.”

“Now you know I don’t need an introduction. Your listeners might love me more than they love you, Zola.”

“You can’t be serious right now, Khalil.”

“I’m not. You know I have to mess with you.”

“You have to get on my last nerve. That’s what you have to do.”

“You know it and you love it. But seriously, hey y’all. It’s Khalil and I’m only here because the sooner we wrap up this discussion, the sooner I can get my wife alone. So let’s talk.”

You could hear the dreaminess in Zola’s voice when she admitted she wanted to wrap up early that night too.

A tinge of jealousy from listening to the back and forth between the clearly still in love couple, spread through my gut and settled there until I shook it off and focused on the advice they shared. For over an hour they both discussed how moving outside of their comfort zone brought them together. According to Zola, if she continued to believe she didn’t need love, she would have never given Khalil a chance. He was too smooth and too perfect she said. But she followed her heart, and as uncomfortable as it was at first trusting him, she ended up with her soulmate.

“She gave a brotha a hard time, y’all. But I wore her down.”

The two of them started laughing and I smiled at their play even as I was tempted to end the recording in my app.

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