Alfred “Zack” Straghn | Your Delray Boca

Kerry Koen was more than a fire chief, he was a leader, teacher, mentor and role model.

This time of year, I always think about the events of February/March 2005 when Jerrod Miller, a Delray Beach teenager was shot and killed outside the Delray Full Service Center by an off-duty police officer working security at a school dance.

I was mayor at the time.

I have a file of emails I received around this time—the good, the bad and the ugly.

Last week, I opened an old email from Kerry Koen, my friend who passed away last year. Kerry was fire chief at the time. He was a wonderful chief and an even better man. I miss him terribly.

We were still sifting through the wreckage of the shooting—the anger, grief, shock etc. when Kerry took the time to send me a short but kind and thoughtful email. He was that kind of guy; sensitive, smart, a man with a big heart and an unquenching desire to learn and share his thoughts. I loved that about him. I miss our phone calls and meet ups where he would share what he learned with me. Those calls and get togethers continued decades after we stopped working together. They continued until hours before his death. He was a teacher and he taught me and others right up until his last breath.

In the email, Kerry told me had attended a graveside service at the Delray Beach Cemetery to support two of his fire department employees who lost a family member. Kerry was always there for his people, his door and his heart were always open.

Delray was still raw a few weeks after the Jerrod Miller shooting. It was a fraught time.

Kerry had a special relationship with Zack Straghn, a local leader, civil rights icon and businessman.

They met frequently at Donnie’s on 5^th Avenue for coffee and conversation.

When Zack passed away, Kerry was grief stricken. Although struggling with his own health issues, Kerry championed a plaque at the beach to honor Zack.

Mr. Straghn fought for and achieved access for people of color at our municipal beach. It was a fitting tribute. Kerry organized a committee, raised money and oversaw the design and wording of the tribute. I urge you to visit it near the pavilion. It’s beautiful.

In the email, Kerry shared that he had run into Zack at the cemetery. Two old friends. Two people who loved and respected each other.

But as I mentioned, it was a tense time. The death of Jerrod Miller exposed old issues that have bedeviled Delray Beach and frankly our nation since our founding.

And the wounds were fresh…we were still struggling to make sense of what happened, still struggling to find a way forward.

Kerry noted that he was at the funeral not as chief, but as a friend as a “little part of a big Delray family.”

I was struck by Kerry’s use of the word family. It resonated with me. It speaks to what we all long for when we seek belonging, when we seek community.

I don’t think it’s a betrayal of Kerry’s memory to share his thoughts. In fact, we talked about it toward the end of his life. Kerry supported my writing and he was a muse of mine. He knew that and I think he liked being one. He often pitched me topics to write and think about.

Also, as a teacher, I know he wouldn’t mind me sharing what he learned and so generously shared with me as a young mayor at the time struggling mightily with the pain the city’s family was feeling in the wake of losing a teenager with his whole life ahead of him. Here’s what he wrote.

“After the service, Zack and I were standing about 50-60 feet away from the crowd. We sorta grabbed each other and both seemed to want to say something to the other. Zack said all that needed to be said… “I know what we have been through, but I’ll tell everyone I know the same thing ….”Delray isn’t a bad town… it just isn’t” …… We both seemed satisfied…. knowing this whole thing will be worked through because of the sprit and love in the hearts of individual Delray folks and the greater, community family.

I deeply believe that in the final analysis, Delray people will step up to the plate and deal with Delray’s issues….because Delray is that kind of place, and “it isn’t a bad town…it just isn’t”.

This is the definition of community. People connecting with each other over the long haul, through the ups and downs, in triumph and in tragedy, through our differences which are many and inevitable we find common ground. We connect, we sometimes disagree and if we keep an open heart we can come together again because we have built a reservoir of good will.

At this funeral, Zack and Kerry reconnected in the wake of Jerrod Miller’s death. Just two old friends, with lots of respect for each other, wanting to reach across the divide and just be people.

We’ve lost some of that in our society, but it’s there, waiting to be tapped if we want it. It’s still there. And if we need reminding we can just go to the well and find it again.

Kerry mentioned in the email the family’s faith that “someday ….in the fullness of G-d’s time, they know they will all be united again.”

Amen. We’re counting on that.

Alfred “Zack” Straghn was a leader, mentor and inspiration.

A civic giant.

When the history of Delray Beach is written, the name Alfred “Zack” Straghn is going to loom large.

He was a giant.

We lost Mr. Zack this week. He was 92 and still active, still vibrant, still finding what John Lewis called “good trouble.”

People were drawn to Zack Straghn because he told great stories, was enormously charismatic and possessed a hard-earned wisdom that came from a lifetime of living and working in Delray Beach.

He was born in Delray and told those of us who knew and loved him that the best decision he ever made was to never leave the city—even though at times he said it felt like a prison.

I’ve long believed that Delray is America in 16 square miles, but if you were African American in the 1950s and beyond the city was four square miles because you were not welcome east of Swinton and you couldn’t go to the beach.

Zack helped to desegregate our beach—it took eight years of protests to get it done. But it got done on April 29, 1962. Prior to that date, the city’s answer was to send Black people to an area of beach five miles away. That didn’t sit well with Zack and others and they decided to speak up.

“They sent us to another city to swim with a man with a shotgun watching us while we swam,” he told Channel 5 last year. “We are going to swim in the three miles of beach here and nobody is going to stop us because this belongs to us, we pay tax in this city and this is where we are going to swim,” he said.

I heard Zack tell that same story to a group of “young” lions a little while back at Donnie’s Golden Spoon restaurant on Northwest 5^th Avenue. The young men sat and listened to every word. Zack and others held court at “Elders” breakfasts that I’ve been privileged to have been invited too on occasion over the years. It’s always an honor to be included; over eggs and bacon you are also served wisdom, history and spirited conversation about the future.

These tables and conversations are few and far between, but they are important. It’s where knowledge is shared, experience is relayed and subjects are debated with love, passion, wit and wisdom.

Alfred “Zack” Straghn saw it all in his 92 years in Delray. He saw heartache and discrimination. He saw births and as a funeral home owner he was there to usher people into “glory.”

He also saw progress in fits and starts. The beach he couldn’t visit until 1962 became a favorite place for him to reflect.

He would walk often with former City Commissioner David Randolph. I saw them a few times and I always wondered what they talked about on those early morning walks around town. So one day I asked Zack and in his distinctive voice—a voice so special and unique that once you heard it you never forgot it—he said they talked about everything: city politics, national politics, family, religion and life itself.

The great icons in our community were great because they share themselves.

They are visible.

They are available.

They teach. And if we are wise—we will listen.

If we want to succeed and build a better future we need to listen to those who came before us.

Zack is an icon and because he never went away and because he invested in the next generation of lions and lionesses he will be forever remembered and honored by those who will step forward to lead us in the future.

He was active in civil rights organizations, served briefly on the CRA, was a long time businessman, fed the needy on Thanksgiving, was involved in the Downtown Master Plan, counseled scores of elected officials and saw his children grow up to serve Delray too. One son, Randy, served with distinction with our Fire Department.

He was a voice, a steady presence, a leader and an inspiration.

When I was a rookie on the City Commission, Mr. Zack was presented with a key to the city by Mayor David Schmidt.

The headline that ran with the story in the Sun-Sentinel was “Activist Gets Key to The City He Unlocked.”
I thought that said it all. It was brilliant.

Over the summer, Zack was interviewed by a student for an initiative called the “Front Porch Project” sponsored by the nonprofit EJS Project.

In that interview, Mr. Straghn said “the best decision I ever made was to stay in Delray.”

Indeed.

It was a decision that paid dividends for all of us blessed to have known that fine man. He will be deeply missed.

Rest in Peace, Mr. Zack, your hometown is so grateful.

The Art of Community

Remembering A Lion: Alfred “Zack” Straghn