On Friday an overflow crowd filled the AME Shorter church in East Denver for a memorial service in remembrance of Regis F. Groff. For two deeply moving hours the former Senate Democratic Minority Leader was honored for his qualities as leader, pioneer, mentor, teacher, parent and role model. Nearly overlooked were his mischievous temperament, infectious humor and visceral enthusiasm, which he carried into both his political and personal life. Groff was far more than the conscience of the Colorado Senate; he was also a genuinely happy warrior. When Regis entered a room, you immediately realized you were going to have a lot more fun than you would have had otherwise. To say he could brighten an event is to understate his impact. Senator Groff usually arrived laughing and, before long, everyone found they were laughing along with him.

The affection which he earned was clearly visible when Pastor James Peters asked those who had been personally touched by Groff’s gentle counsel or personal help to stand, and fully half the mourners rose. Evidence that he served in a more civil political era were the six rows of colleagues, including former Republican Senators Norma Anderson, Bill Schroeder, Sam Zakhem and Mike Kopp, who all took time out to honor the man who was a friend to each of them. His enduring political reach was reflected in the attendance of African-American legislators from California, Georgia, Tennessee and Oklahoma who extolled the leadership he provided when creating the National Black Caucus of State Legislators. The Caucus was formed in the 1970s when there were just 14 members. Today the caucus includes 672 African-American legislators from throughout the nation. There was no doubt at this celebration of his life that this very different country was partially the result of Groff’s labors over 30 years.

Denver Mayor Michael Hancock recalled both the senator and the East High School history instructor whose inspiration as a teacher and political leader continued right into his final conversations. The Mayor’s wife, Mary Louise Lee, sang “Best Thing That Ever Happened To Me” with a power and emotion that should carry her well past the first round of this winter’s national talent competition. Then Norm Early, former Denver District Attorney and unsuccessful candidate for mayor, offered perhaps the most touching recollections, summarizing his impact as “…our pioneer, our visionary, our fighter.” Denver City Auditor Dennis Gallagher, no mean speaker himself, pointed to the “perfect eloquence” and easy fluency that Regis carried with him to the podium each time he spoke before the Colorado Senate. The mere rumor that Groff planned to deliver remarks on important legislation would fill the Senate galleries with admirers. At the same time, he was also remembered as a steel-willed adversary who never surrendered, never backed down and never seemed discouraged.

It required him ten years to win the votes necessary to designate a Martin Luther King holiday in Colorado. He waited 30 years to see his son, Peter, elected president of the Senate. Yet Regis Groff was evidently the kind of man who knew in his heart all these things would eventually transpire. This persistent optimism allowed Regis to appreciate the humor abiding in the world around us. He loved to dance, golf, exchange political rumors and watch the Colorado Rockies. He will be sorely missed along the third base line at Coors Field where he frequently observed that his childhood allegiance to the Chicago Cubs provided just the right training for becoming a Rockies fan.

Born April 8, 1935 in Monmouth, Illinois, he had endured a lifetime replete with minor disappointments on the ball field. Groff also attributed his abiding commitment to the political process as an expression of the African-American understanding that, “Voting is our choice of hope (over despair)!” Senator Groff often intrigued with AME Pastor James Peters, co-founder of Denver’s Inter-faith Ministerial Alliance, to ensure these votes were cast in unison. He once described to me their communal search for consensus as follows: “Behind closed doors bones may be broken. You may hear sharp voices — perhaps glimpse a little blood on the floor, but we will always unite behind a single candidate.” Reliably delivering this solid bloc vote proved smart politics at the time. In today’s wired world, where no one seems willing to suffer their disappointments in silence, a similar unity is likely more difficult to achieve.

Regis asked his daughter-in-law, Dr. Regina Groff, to prepare and deliver his eulogy. With this request he knew exactly what he was doing. A pastor who leads her own congregation in Chantilly, Virginia, Dr. Groff offered a sermon that grew in power until it became emotionally overwhelming. Turning to the Book of Timothy, she built upon the Biblical passages, “I have fought the good fight. I have finished the race. I’ve kept the faith.” Noting that triumphs cannot be won without a struggle, she extolled Groff’s qualities as a man who knew when “the fight” was required — and stood fully ready and willing to engage in that fight. She called out the many injustices in the litany of American apartheid, concluding that she would still be sitting in the balcony “…if there had not been any fighters.” She admonished her audience that her father-in-law’s work remained unfinished — that each of us bears a responsibility to “remain on that battlefield” — to fight for the interests of the taxpayer. “Rest well, Senator. Rest well,” she closed, echoing an earlier sentiment expressed by long serving Georgia legislator Calvin Smyre: “Job well done — faithful servant.”

As for myself, I will sorely miss the distinctive chuckle that served as an early warning when Regis was about to say something very, very funny and you needed to prepare yourself to laugh along with him.

— mnhwriter@msn.com