Jack McCray: The definition of cool

Wade Spees/Staff

Jack McCray worked at The Post and Courier from 1985 to 2008. After his retirement he became a freelance jazz columnist for Charleston Scene.

Editor's Note: Marcus Amaker, former editor of Charleston Scene, has written a special guest column to pay tribute to Jack McCray, a Charleston Scene music columnist and former staffer at The Post and Courier who died unexpectedly last week.

In 2008, I asked Jack McCray to do a jazz column. I was just named editor of what was then called Preview and was looking to add freshness to a publication.

By that time, Jack was already a Charleston institution. He had a deep history with many of the best events around town and was connected to all of the jazz artists in the area.

We met at Kudu Coffee, and talked for a couple of hours about jazz and the music culture of the city. To Jack, jazz was more than just a form of music. As he put it, "Jazz is a verb."

In 2008, the jazz scene was blooming, and Jack had a huge hand in making it grow. We went forward with the weekly column, and I started getting feedback about the column from people in random areas: the laundromat, coffeeshop, concerts and grocery stores.

The conversation usually went like this:

Random person on the street: "Are you Marcus Amaker, with The Post and Courier?"

Me: "Yep, that's me!"

Person: "Man, I love that Jack McCray column. It's nice to have that voice in the paper."

Me: "Right on."

It was the smartest thing I ever did as an editor.

After the column debuted, my friendship with Jack got stronger. I frequently saw him at Charleston Grill (his favorite hangout), Kudu, jazz shows and lunch on Upper King.

We got lunch at Basil in September. Every time I hung out with Jack, I was taking mental notes on his style. I truly believe he was the definition of cool.

At that lunch, he was wearing one of his many hats, and knew more than half of the people in the restaurant.

We reminisced about The Post and Courier, talked about Charleston and got caught up on each other's lives. He was happy and was excited to move forward with new ventures with the Jazz Artists of Charleston.

Jack McCray was always on the move.

Every time I started to think I was cool, I'd take a look at Jack in any social situation and realize I had a long way to go. Jack was always talking to the prettiest women in the room and always had a funny story to tell.

He also knew so much about music. Jazz sounded different to me after our conversations. Thelonious Monk's "Straight No

Chaser" is one of the most beautiful pieces of music I've ever heard. I have Jack to thank for opening me up to that world.

The news of his recent and unexpected passing shifted the energy of the Lowcountry. I sat in the JAC offices last week as emails, Facebook posts, tweets, phone calls and text messages poured in from the public.

I watched as Leah Suarez, president of the Jazz Artists of Charleston, fought back tears as we shared memories. I hugged Jack's son and saw his family's strength shine bright. I overheard conversations about Jack from strangers in the street. He was loved by so many people.

I also kept repeating one of my mantras, "I can see peace instead of this." It is a prayer that puts the power of will proactive instead of focusing on the negative. He is in a better place. I know this to be true.

Jack lived a jazzy life. He was so much more than just a columnist. He was a friend, a brother, a mentor, a fantastic writer and a teacher. It is impossible to put into words what he taught me in the eight years that we were friends. I will miss his laugh, his smile and his knowledge.

God bless you, brother.