A friend passes
I learned today my long-time friend Albert "Bud" Sessoms, formerly of North Charleston, S.C., died on October 10, 2002, in North Carolina, after being admitted to a hospital. He had been in a nursing home where it is believed by some members of his family he was given incorrect medicine for his emphysema. At the hospital, a reaction set in and he passed within two days. My e-mails to him of recent date had been returned.

I contacted one of his sons, Eugene, who is on staff at the College of Charleston, and he told me what he knew of his father's passing. Bud was a good friend, had some strange ways and was always waiting for the next big deal to come down the pike. He was interviewed for a head waiter's job one day and the interviewer asked, "You do have a tux, I hope?" Bud replied, "Certainly, doesn't everyone." He told me later he rushed out and rented one immediately after the interview.

Bud and I frequently met to talk and discuss world events (we solved many a problem, but no one listened) over a few beers and to eat one of those big, delicious hamburgers at Harold's on Dorchester Road, North Charleston. On occasion we would also shoot a little pool there.

I hired him as a counselor when I was director of the South Carolina Commission for Farmworkers. He had a bad set of tires on his car and an African-American on staff took him to a place to get new tires on credit. Bud said he was embarrassed to have a black man vouching for him (remember this was 1966) and left without the tires. In later years he would not have thought twice about a black man doing him a favor. Bud was not a racist. One Christmas, to teach his four sons the true meaning of Christmas he had them gather up all their unopened presents and the family took them to the John C. Calhoun homes and distributed them to poor black children who otherwise would have had nothing for Christmas.

Bud was what we would call a character. There are not many like him who have passed this way.

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