Mourning Felicia Hudson By Sunset
The death of Felicia Hudson shattered the Santa Monica College (SMC) community.
An evening after her passing, faculty and friends in mourning congregated on the Main Campus in vigil. Tissues and candles were quickly distributed, dressing the guests in uniform. A noted physicality emerged as attendees embraced one another.
Twilight dimmed and guests approached a pulpit donned in roses, candles, and a rainbow flag. Their somber orbit was marked by silence. Everyone guarded their flames with their hands. Hudson’s photograph, enlarged in lieu of her presence, also joined the stage, and alerted onlookers to her bright, knowing smile.
The appearance of her beam affected the audience. “There are all kinds of smiles,” shared the first speaker, SMC’s Vice President of Business and Administration Chris Bonvenuto. “But certain people, they have that special one. Hopefully, you know the one I’m talking about, the one that when you see it lights up a room and makes you feel good when you saw it. That was the smile our friend Felicia had.”
“I remember the first time I saw her,” said Bonvenuto. “Years ago, working at a county department, I see someone standing there waiting for help, I hadn’t met ‘em yet, so I said, ‘Hi, I’m Chris, how can I help you?’ Then she hit the smile. And immediately I said, even though they’re an Atlanta fan, ‘cause you know she was wearing her Atlanta hat, this is my type of person.”
“If you needed anything, Felicia was there. Didn’t matter if it was work time or not, she was there; that was Felicia. But as much as she loved this place, I will say one thing: she loved you more. I hope you know that, Pat.”
Patrick Buckley, the only child of the deceased, approached the mic gravely. “I want everybody to remember my mother for all the beautiful things she offered in life. All her smile, her jokes, she was a very fun, silly person. …My mom was a beautiful soul, and I practically mirror her. She’s my twin. I love that lady to death and I’m gonna carry on her legacy.”
Hudson’s mother, Kathy Hudson, maintained a consoled exterior at first. “I’m so hurt,” she said. The sobs broke. “When it’s your first born, that is your child, and you have never lost one, you don’t know the pain. Felicia got her strongness from me but right now, I’m vulnerable.”
The families’ impromptu speeches nevertheless summoned wells of emotion from the lineup of grievers.
Several grieving friends remarked on Felicia Hudson’s ascendency from custodian to supervisor to manager, including Dr. Tre’Shawn Hall-Baker, Dean of Human Resources. “Felicia was big on lifting as she climbed. (Her) journey is a testament to the power of preservation, kindness, and quiet strength. She may have started out in a role where she cleaned up after others, but by the end, she was building them up.”
Dennis Biddle and Emily Raby, co-stars in many of the night’s shared anecdotes, appeared behind the mic in dazes. In the freshness of her passing, many focused on Felicia’s personhood without narrowing into examples. Some, however, like Biddle, Director of Facilities Operations, were stilled by small anecdotes that demoed her character.
“If you know something about Felicia, Felicia would write her words in a card for you. I opened my birthday card, and my birthday card read, Thank you for being a friend. I’ve traveled down the road and back again. And in all caps, the part that meant the most to me said Your heart is true. You’re a pal and a confidant.” He broke. “So, Felicia, thank you for being our friend.”
Raby, custodian, affirmed the deceased’s complexity: “Felicia had a real tough exterior. A real tough exterior. But she was so soft and kind those that know her really know her, and the type of woman she was. I’m just happy to have that. ‘Cause I know I can’t wait to see her again.”
“That’s what we all need to remember about her, the type of person she was. She was a calm person. She was a gentle person,” chimed in Felicia’s friend Candy. “To be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord. At this time, there’s no more suffering for Feli.”
“She was humbling. She was the sweetest person that you could know. And her spirit - if you was around her and you were angry about something, she had a calming spirit.”
“My mother took ill years ago, and Feli - a few years before my mother passed, on her birthday, there would be flowers at my door. …She always remembered my mother’s birthday. At my mother’s funeral, she was there, she was there for me. She was that kinda friend.”
“Felicia was my world dawg… She didn’t allow a lot of people to get close to her like that but I think I was privy to being close to her,” said another coworker. “In 2020, right behind us, she was giving out food to all the students every Wednesday. We was here from seven to seven, on our feet; she never complained. This hurt more than yall know. I’m never gonna meet a person like her again.”
“She was a quiet storm, and she gave herself unselfishly,” said Dr. Jermaine Junius, communications professor and president of the Pan-African Alliance. Jocelyn Winn, Student Services Specialist, recounted an example of this behavior.
“The job that obviously all custodial staff and ground staff do is thankless work. It’s the kind of work that people don’t notice until it’s not done. The day after the first Black graduation, which is the first cultural graduation that we had at SMC… before I showed up to do the clean-up work after the graduations, it was gonna be me. I thought it was just gonna be me. Felicia called me and said, ‘hey, are you here yet?’ …And we took down everything that had to do with Black graduation by ourselves. She never asked for anything. All she did was text me after it was all over, when I said ‘thank you’ for the help. She said, ‘as an older staff at SMC, I just wanted to see this happen.’ She was thanking us. And she was doing the work.”
Jocelyn Alex, administrative assistant, smiled tearily and shared that Felicia was a rare person she was able to connect with, who was extraordinarily reliable. Lisa Ortega, custodian, reflected on their shared pasts, a long-term friendship characterized by Hudson’s nurturing abilities.
Others acknowledged her exuberance.
With acceptance, Felicia’s friend Red shared “I’m glad that I was able to spend time with Felicia, laugh, dance… I’m glad that I was able to pass through her heart and her soul.”
Sherri Lee-Lewis, Vice President of Human Resources, remembered dancing with Felicia and “telling (her), ‘I should’ve known you back in the day, ‘cause we could’ve partied together.’ And we danced all night.”
“She had a radiant smile and a lot of parties. We partied. We had a great time and we drank it down,” said longtime friend Artavia. “Felicia was suave. And all yall know that,”
“She didn’t just light up a room, Felicia had a way of letting everyone know how much they loved them,” said the last speaker. “I saw her two weeks ago. We only had a 30-second conversation because she was busy and had to run immediately and the conversation ended, ‘you know I love you.’ ‘I love you too.’ And that was the last conversation we had. It hurts so much to have her gone.”
In the newfound quiet, nightfall and grief engulfed the audience. Sherri Bradford, Black Collegians program leader and counselor, re-corralled them swiftly.
“We will rejoice and we will celebrate her amazing life and all of the love that she has given to everyone. We’re going to put that back into the universe and to each other,” she said.
“Thank you all. Love on each other. Tomorrow is not promised.”