In Memory of Tommy Pacello

I don’t remember the exact day I found out that Tommy Pacello—the attorney, planner, and prominent community advocate from Memphis—was diagnosed with Stage IV pancreatic cancer, but I remember where I was. And I remember my reaction. I was sitting at my desk, in a room by myself, and I said out loud, “God, no, please. Anyone but him.” Nobody heard the words, but they were shared by more people than I will ever meet.

Of all the unfair things 2020 has dished out, the cancer diagnosis, the aggressive treatment, and the untimely passing of Tommy Pacello is at the top of my list. He died on November 16 leaving behind his wife, Olivia, and his two daughters, Colette (3) and Cecile (1). Tommy was 43.

Measuring Tommy’s life by the shallow metrics we often use to judge success, one might be tempted to argue that, even in life, his time was squandered. He had the degrees and credentials that would have opened any door he wanted. He had effortless charisma of the genuine variety, accented by a warm smile that made him irresistible. As a corporate attorney, he would have had endless clients and money. As a politician, he would have won every election. He could have been rich, powerful, maybe even famous.

But this is all silly, because nobody who knew him would ever measure Tommy’s life on such a superficial scale. Least of all him. If there is one thing I am left with it is that Tommy Pacello lived a life of meaning, one of purpose and deep consequence. His short time here was deeply felt by many, and his powerfully positive gravity will continue to shape things for a long, long time.

We first got in touch over the phone when he called to invite me to come to Memphis, the city he loved. Tommy had a lot of offers and opportunities to go other places, but his heart was in Memphis, and he led with his heart. He saw the struggling city with clear eyes, but also with the most optimistic spirit. I never saw him dwell on missed opportunities, even though they were everywhere.

He made me love Memphis and, even more powerfully, he helped me forgive the failures of my own struggling community and to love it even more.

For Tommy, part of that love was family. The first time I gave a lecture in Memphis his parents, Tom and Elaine, were in the audience. He introduced them to me and I could tell that, among all the dignitaries and influential people in the room, Tommy was most proud that they were there. I spoke with them alone while Tommy tended to something else and found Tommy’s pride exceeded by theirs. I am so sorry for their loss.

I met Olivia only once, and that briefly, but the last time I was in Memphis Tommy and I were able to talk at length about the limitless beauty of being a father of daughters. Like always, he was all smiles. And like always, there was a joy in knowing that the love he had for his wife and daughters was deep and intentional. Even before the cancer diagnosis, he cherished the time, knowing it would be fleeting. There is some solace in the knowledge that he spent his last months building up a reserve instead of making up for lost time.

It is in the neighborhoods of Memphis where Tommy Pacello’s legacy will long be appreciated. From the fire station he renovated to the Tennessee Brewery he helped save, from hanging out in the EDGE to walking Broad Avenue, and of course in the Memphis Medical District where he helped create so much momentum, Tommy showed what can happen when you love a place. Even a tough place, even one that doesn’t always love you back.

Now in death, Memphis is loving Tommy Pacello back. Deep down it always did—he was impossible not to love—but there has been an outpouring of affection for the man who did so much. I once heard Tommy described by an outsider as the “Memphis Jesus.” It was meant to refer to his ability to metaphorically turn civic water into wine, but I think it could more accurately have been a recognition of his way of leading as a humble servant.

And for me, there is the takeaway I want to remember: A humble servant who loves his place, and who loves the people within it—not for what they are or what they can do for him, but just because they are his—that person can transform the world.

Tommy Pacello’s legacy reaches far beyond Memphis and far beyond his short time here with us. May he rest in peace, and may his daughters know him always in the quirky bits of street art he fostered, the calming beauty of the shade trees he planted, and the random smiles of strangers whose lives he touched.

The Pacello Family Educational Trust has been established for the benefit of Colette and Cecile's future educational pursuits. If you wish to contribute to this fund, you can send a check payable to:

Pacello Family Educational Trust
1900 Union Avenue
Memphis, TN 38104

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