It is August and the moment we’ve all been dreading: John Jackson’s retirement from the Tobin Community Center. I’ve learned so much more than I can express through things John has said to me over the last 15 years, but I’ve learned far more by observing the way he shows up in the world. I could have written all of this in my journal or in a letter to John, but I think what makes him most special is that much of what I’ve been reflecting on, has been a collective experience- he means so much to so many and for a lot of the same reasons.
I first met John while I was at Wentworth through our work with the Mission Hill Youth Collaborative—the birthplace of Halloween on the Hill. What began as one collaboration turned into countless others over the years: Halloween, the Senior Prom, Showcase of the Stars, the Backyard Garden, and so many community projects that brought people together. Wherever there is an opportunity to build community, John has been there.
I always feel the most inspired by John during our chats when I show up unannounced to his office (always been amazed that he just leaves his door open like that) or when we are cutting up swapping memories of past Haunted Hallways or senior events; times he is probably least aware that he is leaving a lasting impression. The pride he has for the people he knows, has mentored, coached, etc spills over whenever he talks about them and is contagious. Whether he is showing me Chuck Turner’s intro video to the Hall of Fame on Youtube (for the third time), or talking about March Madness and which of “our guys” are playing or about how impressive the Chess program and its players are. He has taught me so much about Mission Hill as a neighborhood through stories of his upbringing here and how many ways the neighborhood has changed while reflecting on ways it has room yet to go. I will miss being in meetings and rooms with John and hearing “Don’t do it Court!” referring to making eye contact when we are trying not to laugh about something happening around us. Laughing adds years to your life and I am thankful for all the ones we have shared together.
John has always been the kind of leader who walks into a room with energy and conviction. He’s fearless, direct, and never afraid to say exactly what he thinks. He has encouraged me to approach life the same and has never let me play small. “Nah, Court, don’t do that—you’ve got to say how you feel,” or “if you’re doing the work, who cares?!” Sometimes it was advice, sometimes it was a challenge, but it was always rooted in his belief that people should show up as their real selves. Beneath that boldness is someone deeply committed to people. He doesn’t just connect organizations—he connects neighbors, generations, ideas, and opportunities. He has an uncanny ability to make space for everyone at the table while helping each person see where they belong.
John is the keeper of contacts (if you want to talk to Diane, you’ve gotta go through him) the person who seemed to know everyone and, more importantly, knew how to bring the right people together. He understands that strong communities aren’t built by programs alone—they’re built through relationships. When I reflect on my own relationship with John and how multifaceted and dynamic it has been, I remember that he brings the same depth to his relationships with hundreds if not thousands of other people as well- a quality that will be his legacy and a trademark to his brand of success- a person and leader who is truly transformational.
Thank you, John, for believing in people before they believed in themselves, for challenging us to think bigger, and for showing us that the best leaders don’t just lead—they lift others up along the way. To say you will be missed is such an understatement that it goes without saying and doesn’t feel like it even scratches the surface. Congratulations on the most well deserved retirement, we love you!
No easy transitions in this month’s article.. but on to business..
While it is summer and foot traffic is down across the district, entrepreneurial spirit is certainly up outside of Lily’s Pasta. If you’ve been lucky enough to catch Ethan, Dylan and Genesis at their lemonade stand- you know what I’m talking about. With my office nearby, I’ve tried at least 6 different concoctions at this point, and they’ve all been amazing (not even gassing them up, I mean that wholeheartedly). When I pressed them for a schedule, they reminded me that they are kids and it is summer, so it is more of an adhoc stand at the moment. I’d advise you all to keep $1 bills handy and stay on the lookout for their next pop-up, you won’t be disappointed.
Other business updates:
-Empire Fruit Co at 1536 Tremont St. has received their temporary certificate of occupancy and will be opening their doors very soon (possibly by the time you’re reading this on)! Congratulations to Diego, a MH resident running the business.
-Nachlo has new(ish) owners, Omar and Anas, who are revamping the menu offerings to reflect their Moroccan roots, along with other Middle Eastern and Mediterranean style foods- check out @nachloeats or visit them in person to see more. They are looking to hire also, with a need for Arabic and English speakers.
-Chase Bank is open as of Tuesday- I’ve let their new manager Johnny know how appreciative we are for the newly installed windows that add some visual appeal to the former Santander bank space- welcome to the neighborhood!
Mission Hill Main Streets is deeply saddened by the loss of Louisa Gag, who was struck and killed while commuting to her job as a transportation planner at City Hall earlier this month. Some people change a city by designing its streets. Others change it by the way they move through it—with purpose, kindness, and a deep belief that every neighborhood deserves to be connected, safe, and welcoming. By all accounts, Louisa did both. As a transportation planner, Louisa understood that transportation is about more than roads, buses, or bike lanes. It is about people. It is about creating opportunities, connecting communities, and ensuring that everyone can move through the city with dignity and independence. Her work reflected a quiet but unwavering commitment to making Boston a better place for all who call it home.
There is a heartbreaking irony that someone who dedicated her career to improving street safety and chose to bike to work each day lost her life doing what she believed in. Those who knew Louisa, as reflected in the many notes left at her memorial on Tremont St and through the countless tributes already given, remember her intelligence, compassion, and generosity. She listened carefully, collaborated openly, and approached every challenge with humility and determination. The city will continue to evolve because of people like Louisa. Every safer intersection, every improved transit connection, every cyclist who feels more secure on the road, and every resident who can more easily reach work, school, or loved ones carries forward a piece of her vision. Her passing is a profound loss—not only to her family, friends, and colleagues, but to everyone who believes cities can be safer, more equitable, and more inclusive. May we honor Louisa not only with words, but with action. As the MA Vision Zero Coalition justly pointed out “inaction and needless delays have consequences”.