Jorge,
When we met at Murillo & Associate in 1991, you were a clinical psychologist counseling adult sex offenders on probation. I was a clinical social worker working with juvenile offenders on probation. Later, you hired me to work for you at the Juvenile Probation.
We were from different worlds, me from Nigeria, and you, from Panama.
You were an unequaled mentor, who later became a good friend. In you, I found a kindred spirit. In the 14 years that I worked with you, I learned many things. Among them;
How playing soccer will be beneficial to my daughters; that not only is it good for their coordination, it might also lead to a college scholarship .You persuaded me by citing your children as examples!. Because of you, one of my three girls did play soccer. And although she chose another sport before college, she still talks about how much she enjoyed her time at her Soccer club. And yes, she testified that it helped her coordination!
I learned about you and your beautiful family; that you were always striving to be a better husband, a better father and of course, a better story teller! You talked with a father’s pride about your children, their accomplishments and struggles, their passion and compassion for the less fortunate. You talked about how you cherished Jeannie, your wife. From you, I learned how to be a good husband and father.
I learned about the benefits of struggles and perseverance. You shared about your long trek in the snow in Baltimore while in High school and college. You shared the sacrifice others made for you to get your medical and educational needs met.
You shared how your perseverance and not giving up helped you get the girl of your dream!
I learned how it is important to treat our clients with compassion, respect and dignity because “you never knew what their future holds. Besides, someday, it might be their turn to give you the same treatment that you gave them, good or bad”.
You recounted the story of how the inmate in the State Institution where you worked in New York rioted against staff. In the ensuing chaos, some staff were hurt, some held hostage. But you were spared. You were spared because you were nice to them and treated them with dignity and respect. You advocated for them. You defended them when no one else would. They remembered your compassion for them.
In Juvenile Probation, you taught me how to be a better person, a better counselor. We often had lunch together. One lesson I learned from our lunchbreaks was that I’m more successful when I listened to you than when I tried to interrupt you with questions when telling your many stories. It was difficult to get you to stop once you are on the roll. I learned about the Carnival in Panama, the many days of festivities in which the whole town participates. The cultural and traditional masks, the feasting, the colorful attires and of course, the dancers and their dancing. Always excited when talking about the yearly carnival. You told those stories so well, as only you could.
I often called you, Dr. O.., sometimes, Jorge. I remember that you always made sure people know how to pronounce your name: Jorge Ordonez, correctly. You were successful, most of the time, in getting us to say your name the right way.
I did not have such luck. As much as I tried, I was unsuccessful in teaching you to say my name correctly: because, you still call me “See” instead of “Zee”. You say my name as if the first letter starts with S instead of Z. I finally gave up and accepted the fact that to you, I will always be “See”.
When you retired in 2005, you left a vacuum in Psychological and Social Services, and the whole of Harris County Juvenile Probation. That vacuum was not filled 11years later when I left the department. Everyone knew about the passion and compassion of “Doc”, “Dr. O” or “Jorge” we affectionately called you. You were a passionate advocate for the juvenile offenders whom we served, no matter their alleged offense, their race or skin color. Although we are responsible for serving all youths in the detention center, you always reminded us to pay special attention to non-English speaking youths, youths with disabilities, younger youths, minority youths, as per the culture of juvenile detention center, “at risk” youths who could not articulate their needs and concerns, powerless youths who were vulnerable to abuse, bullying and exploitations in the hands of staff and other youths.
You were well known by all at the Harris County Juvenile Probation Department in Houston, Texas: Judges, probation officers, teachers, psychiatrists, psychologists and other colleagues in the mental health profession with whom we worked. Lawyers sought you out to testify on behalf of their juvenile clients, knowing you always emphasize the “hidden” good in those children, rather than harping on how bad they were. Yes, you were sorely missed!
Although we exchanged occasional phone calls and holiday greetings, I never saw you again until last year, 2016. After years of extended invitation to my family, we finally visited. Like a long-lost family member, you and your wife, Jeannie, welcomed us with open arms. Your daughters and one of your sons came to welcome us. We also had the chance to meet your beautiful grandchildren. We enjoyed our time together at your beach home, on the beach, the city tour and the meals that we had together, again, after so many years. Our visit with you in San Diego, the last leg of our California vacation, was one of the highlights of the year!
As it now turned out it was also the last time we would see you. Now, I’m thankful for the chance to see you again since you left Houston in 2005. My family also thank you.
Thank you for being my mentor, my boss, my lunch partner and my dear friend. Now that you have entered your eternal rest, farewell dear friend, until that day when we will meet again, and hopefully, if God wills, resume our friendship.
Zee Oduola