Bernie Mac was one of my favorite comedians. He grew up on the south side of Chicago, financially poor but determined to rise above his tough beginnings.
“I didn’t have to prove we were poor. All you had to do was look in the refrigerator,” he once said.
His mother passed away when Bernie was a sophomore in high school, and a year to the day later, his brother died. Bernie married at 19, and shortly after, the father he’d only recently met, died.
Despite his sorrow and hardships, his brilliance was a light that could not be concealed.
The thing with Bernie was that he hated to see people hurting; he especially hated seeing the people he loved cry. His humor was always spot on, but he didn’t tear anyone down to build himself up. He saw that his true calling was to make people laugh.
Mac died in April of 2008 from complications of pneumonia—at least that was the official report; the truth is he suffered from sarcoidosis and couldn’t fight the infection in his lungs.
I was personally saddened when I learned of his death, because it had always felt like he was a member of my family. I admired his values, I admired his over-the-top brilliance, and yes, he made me laugh.
One of his most popular projects was “The Bernie Mac Show.” In it, he would break “the fourth estate,” look directly into the camera, and say: “AMERICA, I ask you…”
The only other comedian who touched my life in such a way was George Carlin.
Mac was awarded the Humanitas Prize for television writing that promoted human dignity— and deservedly so.
After his death, the Bernie Mac Foundation was created to help advance research in the field of sarcoidosis, and I know Bernie would be proud to have his name on the door.
