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PHCC leader stood out in so many ways

By BILL STEVENS
Published January 30, 2005

Robert Judson arrived for the weekly New Port Richey Rotary Club meeting Jan. 19 still beaming from the big party the night before at Saddlebrook.

It felt like a celebrity farewell tour - important folks eager to grip his hand or slap his back; to wish the president of Pasco-Hernando Community College well in his retirement. They gave him Rotary's highest honor, the Paul Harris Fellowship, and applauded with gusto.

As usual, he was the only black person in the room. As usual, nobody mentioned it.

In all the loving testimonials at the formal party and the Rotary meeting, never was it mentioned that Judson was the first black president in the modern Florida community college system.

He is the most recognized and influential black person in our area, yet he is uncomfortable with that description. He has spent a decade trying not to let his race be an issue, and it is equally true that Judson is among the most influential men ever in our community, period.

In 32 years at the college, as a teacher, counselor, administrator and president, he has earned widespread respect for his ability, intellect and personality. And if this were not among the whitest regions in the nation, his race might never warrant a mention - although, come to think of it, race is always an issue in America.

Our assistant editor in Hernando County, Andrew Skerritt, put it this way when asked for his thoughts about this column: "When I was in Montserrat," he said, "I was a man. When I moved to America, I was a black man."

Having Judson at the helm of a vibrant college has been inspirational for those of us who yearn for richer diversity in this area. Only about 2 percent of the 388,000 people in Pasco are black, 4 percent of the 144,000 in Hernando.

Judson grew so used to being the only black person around, he often didn't even think about it.

"Occasionally, my wife, Ellen, would go with me to functions," Judson said. "On the way home in the car she'd say, "Did you notice we were the only black folks there?' And I'd say, "We were?"'

When Judson would attend the council of college presidents, 27 of 28 were white. He would take business trips to cities like Atlanta and be surrounded by other black executives. Such a contrast from home, and he noticed. How could you not?

At home in Lake Bernadette near Zephyrhills, he and Ellen were the only black residents for the longest time. One day, he spotted a black child catching a school bus. "You notice," he said.

When Judson moved his office from the Dade City campus to New Port Richey some years back, he and Ellen elected to stay put despite his long, slow commute. Ellen loved the house, so that was a huge factor. More important: They were closer to the largest minority community in Pasco and to their church, St. Paul Missionary Baptist in Dade City, where Judson is a longtime deacon.

When the Judsons go to church, they are among 150 other worshipers - all black.

When Judson sought to lead the college, competition was stiff. Race became an issue - mostly through rumor. He was either going to get the job because he was black or not going to get it because he was black. Take your pick.

This upset Judson, who had devoted a career to the college and was clearly qualified.

"Any time race came up, it was not by me," he said. "I would never let black become an issue."

Still, he couldn't help but be affected by what he calls the "black experience." He grew up poor in South Florida. He lived in segregation and witnessed discrimination.

"I put an immense value on human beings and how they are treated," he said. "I wanted to make sure the little person didn't get stepped on."

At PHCC, as long as he was in charge, he would be the only person who could fire an employee. So when one of his administrators recommended disciplinary action, Judson got tough. He grilled. "I wanted to know everything."

The result, he said: PHCC is a good place to work.

It also became a bit more racially diverse under Judson. He had only one black person on his 11-member Cabinet, dean of students Al James. But the number of African-Americans on the faculty has more than doubled in the decade to a dozen out of 100, including math, science and nursing instructors. Some have told Judson they came because of him.

The student body reflects the community, though more and more you see color. Eventually, Judson said, real diversity will come with the kind of jobs that encourage relocation.

In the meantime, praise to the pioneers like Bob Judson.

He stood out in so many ways.

He stood above.

Bill Stevens is the North Suncoast editor for the Times.

[Last modified January 30, 2005, 00:10:19]