His name was Jimmy, the only child of Archie and Ruth Addison. He had asthma as a baby and wasn’t given long to live. He was carefully monitored with this condition and treated gently by his parents. At an early age, he earned enough money for his first bike. He did it by taking his father’s paint and going door to door painting everyone’s porch steps, even to those who didn’t ask for them to be painted. I heard he got in a lot of trouble for that one. Through all of his trying times, he was strong within. He was everybody’s friend and when Jimmy entered the room, the party would begin.

He was always interested in working on cars and learning the mechanics of engines and how they operated. He found his niche in life as a superior mechanic. He worked hard at whatever he did and took pride in his accomplishments in a humble way.
Jim, as I called him, married my twin sister Gloria and they had two children, Dawn and Michael. He ran the Sunoco gas station on Woodward Avenue with owner Ted Spehar. They were both working with the Chrysler Corporation at the time. Jim was fairly active in the Detroit street-racing scene and his tuning skills were evident. Chrysler liked Jim’s work so much that they placed a 1967 Plymouth GTX in his hands. The GTX was painted silver and known as “The Silver Bullet” claiming to be the fastest street car in the Michigan. Jim took pride in being King of the Street and in his car. People from all around loved to see it on display and watch him take the lead over and over in races on Woodward Avenue and throughout Michigan.

Gloria and Jim divorced several years later and Jim married a close friend, Donna who also supported his efforts in the street racing scene. They proudly displayed the Chrysler “Silver Bullet” each year at Woodward Cruise. Jim had t-shirts and posters made up of him and the Silver Bullet.

His children, Dawn and Michael are very proud of their dad for the accomplishments he made throughout his lifetime. And though Jim wasn’t tall in stature, he was thought of as a giant of a man.

When I talked to Dawn recently, she sobbed as she told me, “My dad was bigger than life.” She told me how noble and honest a person he was, how admirable and chivalrous and of how much he had the respect of everyone that knew him. She remembered how he would sometimes call just to talk to her for a while and would always tell her he loved her. Still sobbing, she asked me how long the grieving goes on. It was hurting her heart so much. It was unbearable. I told her that each of us in our own way grieves differently. There is no right or wrong way and no limit on the time it takes when we lose someone we love.

I also talked with Michael and he said he’d cried so much that he couldn’t cry any more. He said that his dad would tell him that it was time to go on with life. He told me that since his dad died, he now feels a part of Jim carried over on to him. He feels more responsible and that he is more of a man now.

Michael wrote a poem about his dad and I’ll share it with you.

My Hero

“My dad the hero, not part of any bureau. He taught me the meaning of being a man. It was not a complicated plan. Know your responsibility of respect, politeness and many more. He taught me to hold the door for a woman, the elderly and even the poor. I watched him work hard for years and years. While his kids were blind from the ignorance when babble filled their ears.

Through all the pain and suffering, I learned many things of my hero. I had seen him sick, battered and bruised. And keep working, so his family would not have the blues. Some things he taught me he never spoke a word. I heard with my ears and eyes and thought it was absurd. But wisdom always knows more than youth about life in the universe. Then one day that same youth will be able to converse.

Every child should have a hero! In this life to learn so you will know what to do when it’s your turn. Thank God for the heroes here on earth. For the wisdom they teach with every birth.

Jimmy was the driver and the Silver Bullet was the car. No one ever beat him. He’s a legend in motor racing and in Detroit by far.”

I recall the last time I saw Jim. It was at a family birthday gathering this past summer. Gloria and I walked into the informal dining room area of Dawn’s house. Jim and Donna were there sitting at the table. The four of us talked and shared so much that day. We never left that area. We watched out the huge bay window as the children had fun breaking open the piñata and playing their games. I felt a “cocoon of love” with the four of us that day. No one wanted to leave the security of it. We all felt connected. I recall the twinkle in Jim’s eyes and his laughter as we talked and laughed. Emphysema severely compounded Jim’s asthma. Eventually, Jim’s health deteriorated and he passed away just two week ago.

That night, I dreamed of him. His eyes were smiling and twinkling and he was laughing like the last time I’d seen him. It was so clear. So real.

Several days later, on the way to Jim’s funeral, my daughter, Theresa, commented to me, “I wonder what people will think of me when I die?” I thought about her comment and wondered what people would think of her. I wondered what people would think of me when I’m gone. What will people think of you when you are gone? I wonder. What legacy will you leave behind? It’s something to ponder.

Jim was a hero to the many lives he touched. His memory continues on, bigger than life. He may be gone, but is not forgotten. If you are fortunate enough to see the Silver Bullet, look inside the trunk and you’ll see the signature of Jimmy Addison.

Jim, you became a legend

in your own time

a hero in the footlights!

Farewell, with love, my dear friend

and brother in law.

Gerri Magee is director of advertising and public relations and assistant to the editor of phenomeNEWS. She continues to share her thoughts “On The Path” in this column. You can write her at gerri@phenomenews.com.