Opinion: What we can learn from the legacy of Jerry Springer
If your experience is like mine, the three questions you get most as a Cincinnatian while traveling are, in some order: "Is your airport really in Kentucky? Do you eat chili over pasta? Was Jerry Springer really the mayor?"
It's understandable that millions of people across the world knew Jerry for his talk show. But to us in his adopted home, he was so much more. Jerry was a man of seemingly limitless passion for our city and his beliefs with equal parts compassion for fellow man. He was a man determined not to be defined by his worst moment, while knowing that he could never outrun it. He earned the respect of so many, despite spending years offering commentary that he often called "bleeding-heart liberal" to an audience that very rarely agreed. He held his head high, he cared deeply, and he loved not only this city, but the people who call it home.
More: Jerry Springer: From the mayor's office to tabloid TV, he led a showman's life
Defining Jerry's rich and complicated legacy is best left to those who knew him for years, and it surely will be in the coming days and weeks. I came to know Jerry only in the last decade of his life, by which point he had already left his indelible mark on our city. The man I came to know had a wisdom and thoughtfulness that bordered on being soft-spoken. But that surface belied the passion and compassion that never diminished. Born to a Jewish family in England during World War II, he cared deeply about the Jewish community in Cincinnati and quietly supported it for decades. Before Democrats were ascendant in Hamilton County, he helped keep the local party afloat.
For a man known for showmanship, his biggest contributions to our community were often quiet by design, meant to not draw attention. For me, Jerry responded to every call, text, or email I pestered him with. We routinely had hour-long phone calls where he would give me advice as a young political strategist while weaving in stories from his time on council or in show business. Every year, he would make sure to be in Cincinnati and speak to my course teaching undergraduate students at UC (the week he came was always the highest attended each semester).
That was part of what made Jerry so special: He could make anyone feel like they mattered, because he truly believed everyone did matter. He never tried to be anything other than himself. He was unapologetically himself. We will still be feeling Jerry's impact on our city for generations to come. And despite being 50 years his junior, I will feel the impact he had on me for the rest of my life.
So when you feel inclined to roll your eyes when asked about CVG or Skyline, maybe answer the question about Jerry with pride; he'll always be one of ours. In the meantime, may we all strive to act as he hoped: to take care of ourselves and each other. And, as we say in Judaism, zichrono livracha, may his memory be for a blessing. Good night, Jerry.
Jared Kamrass is a Democratic strategist based in Blue Ash.
This article originally appeared on Cincinnati Enquirer: Opinion: Jerry Springer was unapologetically himself
