by Debbie Grubb
On Monday, February 21, B.H. Newman suffered a heart attack and a few hours later had a stroke in his brain stem. He never regained consciousness and he died on Monday, February 28 at the age of 72. The death of this man, unfortunately, is not unique. Fortunately for all of us, his life was and the fruit of that life will live on every Tennessee morning when a vendor opens his/her place of business, when a newly blind individual keeps that first appointment with a rehab counselor who works in the division’s Unit for the Blind, when the newspaper is read with that first cup of coffee by picking up the phone and when life’s possibilities take their place on the wings of hope.
B.H. Newman was a true Southern gentleman with that mix of charm, blarney and rock-solid friendliness that all who knew him were warmed and enriched by. When I came to Nashville, B.H. immediately introduced himself to me and gave to me the precious gift of his friendship. Almost the first words out of his mouth were, “Debbie, I want to take you up to the Legislative Plaza and introduce you around. I’m glad you’re here.”
Although B.H. was not feeling particularly well, he made plans to attend this year’s ACB legislative seminar. Carol, his wife, worried about his going; but she knew that this sort of event held a supreme place in her husband’s heart and mind.
Charlie Hodge, a member of ACB’s board of publications and a leader of long standing in the organization, said of him, “I have known B.H. for many years through our meetings and mutual legislative interests at ACB national conventions and legislative seminars. B.H. was a former blind vending stand operator who had an abiding interest in the Randolph-Sheppard Act and program. B.H. regularly stalked the halls of the Tennessee legislature in Nashville. Dogged and indefatigable are the adjectives to describe B.H.’s advocacy style. He was like the pit bulldog who once gets something in its teeth and just won’t give up or relinquish it until the task at hand is accomplished. No matter what the issue, B.H. never gave up and his boundless determination was usually rewarded with a successful conclusion to his advocacy efforts on behalf of blind Tennesseeans. He will be greatly missed.”
Terry Smith, Director of Blind Services in Tennessee, paid this tribute to him.
“B.H. Newman was the best known blind person in the Tennessee legislature. Whenever I was lobbying for a particular bill, I was always asked, ‘How does B. H. feel about this issue?’ B.H. was always able to get crucial legislation introduced and resolutions passed. One such resolution established a separate program unit for the blind within the department and gave the director of the program the responsibility of supervising field counselors working with individuals who are blind. B.H. worked to procure funding for the newspaper reading service, and funding to bring descriptive video to Tennessee Public Television. B.H. Newman enriched the lives of blind people in Tennessee.”
Penny Pennington, past president of the Tennessee Council of the Blind, told me that B.H. worked tirelessly to keep the teaching of braille in the curriculum at the Tennessee School for the Blind. She explained that in 1996, when Coca-Cola attempted to take over the state college campus vending machines, B.H. used his advocacy skills and convinced the right people to protect the integrity of the Randolph-Sheppard Act. Tennessee vendors honored him with their Tennessee Business Enterprise Award.
ACB President Paul Edwards said of him, “B.H. was a wonderful man who gave far more than he ever asked and I will miss him. Many of us will feel lessened without that bear of a voice roaring with enthusiasm and without that hand always out to help and always up to volunteer.”
Carol Newman has requested that anyone who wishes to remember B.H. do so via a donation to the American Council of the Blind. And so those of us who are left to carry on must be ever mindful of the life of B.H. Newman and his commitment to the cause to which he dedicated that life.