CARLTON FLETCHER: John I. and Ms. Iris Davis ‘raised their sons right’

“And when I die, And when I’m gone, There’ll be once child born in this world to carry on.”

— Blood Sweat and Tears

Death, as we’ve painfully learned, is a part of life. Unfortunately, it’s the end part.

Each of us most likely has had someone we love pass away after a long period of being unwell, their death by no means sneaking up on the ones who love them. But when we lose someone unexpectedly — whether by sudden means or a lost period of non-communication — it comes as one of life’s biggest shocks.

That’s what I felt this week when I learned John I. Davis had passed away. I’ll say from the get-go that I loved this man, loved his wife, Ms. Iris, and especially loved the five exceptional young men John I. and Ms. Iris raised. And I join them in mourning the sometimes larger-than-life patriarch of this beautiful family.

I first met John I. Davis when I came to Albany to work at this newspaper and attend Albany State University. John I. — I, like many who knew him, always called him that, not John, Coach Davis or any other name … none seemed to fit — was coaching ASU’s women’s basketball team at the time. And that team was one of the greatest, most entertaining, and best-coached I ever watched play. (And, yes, this was a women’s team.) In fact, I’d put then-Lady Ram point guard Brenda Candies alongside Dontonio Wingfield, Chris Cameron, Antonio Smith and all the other young basketball players I’ve seen up close over my years here.

John I. took that magical team to an undefeated season and the school’s first trip to the NCAA national tournament. Watching the Lady Rams play in Miami in the first round of the national tournament was doubly meaningful for me, because in covering that game for the Herald, I had the opportunity to experience flying for the first time (something I avoid now with the admission that, yeah, it scares me silly).

When I graduated Albany State, John I. and I kind of went our separate ways, but I called on him often to ask him about some bit of coaching strategy or just to talk.

In those years after I finished my academic career at Albany State, though, I had the opportunity to meet and coach three of John I’s five offspring: Stan, Vincent and Stephen, aka “Red.” Patrick was older, so I only heard stories about him. “Little John” came along later, so I also got most of my info about him via word of mouth.

Here’s what I heard about Patrick and Little John, from classmates, teachers, church members, and employers: That they were just as good a young men as their siblings. And like their parents before them, the Davis brothers forged successful careers, two in business and three in education.

We all, as parents, say we’re going to “raise our children right,” teach them things like respect, honor, loyalty and kindness. Truth is, though, we often fall slack on our commitment — there’s too much work to be done … I’m tired … I just want to get away for some me time — and allow others, including the streets, to raise our children. The Davis brothers, though, were raised right.

I’m sure Ms. Iris was driven partly mad by all that testosterone running loose in her house, but she had just as firm a grip on those sons as their strong-willed dad. And together, John I. and Ms. Iris raised some of the finest young men I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. I know I’ve gotten some add looks when I’ve seen one of the Davis brothers out in the community and have hugged them with the kind of bear hugs I reserve for my own son. Truth be told, though, I love these young men — and am as proud of them and what each has accomplished — as I am my own children. That’s just the kind of men they are.

There’s a hole in the world, a void, left with the passing of John I. Davis. But he left perhaps the greatest legacy a man could: Five fine young men who have carved out their own places in society using well the things their father taught them.