Fallen Leaves

Bernard Epps 

My Father Planted a Garden

Our Father kept a garden.

A garden of the heart;

He planted all the good things,

That gave our lives their start.

He turned us to the sunshine,

And encouraged us to dream:

Fostering and nurturing

The seeds of self-esteem.

And when the winds and rain came,

He protected us enough;

But not too much because he knew 

We would stand up strong and tough.

His constant good example,

Always taught us right from wrong;

Markers for our pathway that will last

a lifetime long.

We are our Fathers garden,

We are his legacy.

Thank you Dad, we love you.

- Unknown

C. Roy Epps, Jr.

Think about this for a moment: a young man from the Bronx, who is not especially or extraordinarily tall, is vicious on the basketball court. The eldest of his father’s children and fourth in line of his mother’s, Roy was strong, focused, and damn smart. Fascinated by plants, he left home to study biology and chemistry in college, until the Army drafted him. How dare they! I’m sure he wasn’t too happy about that, but he served his time, then launched a career as a chemist. He soon found that lab work wasn’t his thing, so he pursued a more fulfilling career in Urban Development with the Urban League of Greater New Brunswick, where he worked for 57 years. Whoa! Roy had found his calling.

Despite his Bronx roots, he and his two younger brothers took all their kids camping every summer. No cabins, no toilets, no TVs; just tents, trees, and mosquitoes. Eeeeek! It was the best!!!

Roy worked hard at the League and, with his hands, rebuilt dilapidated buildings. He lived fully, beat the odds, traveled widely, and loved deeply. He had a strong, quiet presence, was well respected, admired, and deeply loved.

Roy, that young man from the Bronx, was a leader, mentor, patriarch, and an incredible father and grandfather who left an incomparable legacy behind. He had four children, Leah, Nalik (Roy III), Leslye, and Camara. May we each carry on his legacy in our own way. 

We love you, Daddy, GP/Grandpa. Rest easy, now.

- Written by Leslye R. Lopez