By Bill Day
The passing of Frankie Beverly marks the end of an era, but the legacy he built over five decades continues to resonate deeply within Black culture and beyond. Frankie Beverly and Maze, since the 1970s, have been more than just a band. Their music became the heartbeat of a people navigating love, struggle, joy, and resilience. They gave us anthems that brought us closer to one another, uplifted our spirits, and reminded us of the importance of never giving up, no matter the challenge.
I was first introduced to Frankie Beverly and Maze by mistake, as some of the best things in life often are. I was sitting in my father’s truck, fumbling through his 8-track tapes when I stumbled upon one of their songs. What happened next was nothing short of magic. The melodies and messages pulled me in, creating a bridge of understanding between me and my father. We connected over the music in a way that no words could have achieved. That moment became a catalyst for a relationship rooted in shared understanding, a bond that mirrored the power of community – which is what Frankie Beverly’s music always represented.
Everyone has a Maze story. Whether it’s a concert experience across the world or a moment of quiet reflection while listening to their albums at home, Frankie Beverly and Maze gave us memories that are woven into the fabric of who we are. Their music became soundtracks to our most poignant moments, filled with the joy and pain of life, and always uplifting us, even when things felt overwhelming.
One of my earliest memories that really stands out is how three young men from similar backgrounds formed a lifelong bond. This memory can never be duplicated, and it was solidified during the summers that included the Southern Heritage Festival at Fair Park. That’s where I, along with Charlie Abrams and Darryl Washington, formed a friendship that has lasted over 40 years. We were about 15 or 16 when we started attending the Southern Heritage Festival concerts, and it became the highlight of our summers. The festival lineups were legendary, featuring artists like Rick James, Teena Marie, Zapp Band, The Gap Band, SOS Band, and many others. Summers during those years were rich with excitement and fun, and attending those concerts together created memories that we still talk about to this day. The three of us remain best friends, bonded for life, with those summers serving as the foundation for a brotherhood that has only grown stronger over the decades.
One of my fondest memories of Maze happened while I was stationed in San Diego, California. I was in the dorms when I heard Maze playing through the walls. Now, at that time, I thought I was the only one who loved and had Maze music in that space, so naturally, I followed the sound. As I got closer, I came upon Paul Bigham, who was also stationed there. I remember accusing him—half-jokingly—of taking my tape, only for him to pull down his own copy. That sparked an instant connection. Little did I know, Paul would later become my best friend and even stand as the best man at my wedding. That music connected us, and the bond we formed through Maze remains strong to this day.
Another memory that stands out happened when I was stationed in Pascagoula, Mississippi. Paul and I borrowed a friend’s car and decided to drive to Mobile, Alabama, to see Frankie Beverly and Maze in concert. We were excited and ready for a great time. When we arrived, there were two shows scheduled that night. We got there just before the first one started, and I remember jumping out of the car and running to the ticket booth. Unfortunately, there was only one ticket left for that show. Of course, I had to buy it! Paul, being the great friend he is, didn’t mind—he drove around downtown Mobile while I enjoyed the first show. Afterward, I came out to find Paul, and we bought tickets for the second show together. That night, I had the unique experience of attending two Frankie Beverly and Maze concerts back-to-back, and it remains one of the best concert experiences of my life.
But the memory that means the most to me is a road trip I took from Birmingham, Alabama, to San Diego, California. I was driving our family’s Nissan Pulsar to California after picking it up in Birmingham, and it turned into an unforgettable bonding experience with my father. Before I left, my father gave me three things for the journey. First, he handed me a map—this was before the days of Google Maps—plotting the route I should take. Then, he took me to Tarrant City Pistol and Pawn and bought me a .38 revolver, telling me to have something to protect myself on such a long trip. And finally, he gave me the Live in New Orleans Frankie Beverly and Maze concert cassette tape, which I played over and over again throughout that drive. That trip, and the music of Maze, became a cherished memory, a reminder of the bond I had with my father, a memory I’ll hold dear forever.
What makes this memory so special is not just the journey itself, but what it represented. It was during this trip that I truly felt my father’s love, respect, and acknowledgment. In that moment, he didn’t just see me as his son; he saw me as a man ready to face the world. The way he equipped me with the tools for the road ahead—both literal and figurative—made me feel sure, prepared, and deeply valued.
He had always been there for me, but this experience was different. It was a defining moment in our relationship, where I felt his trust and belief in me. It was as if, in giving me those three items, he was giving me his blessing for the journey ahead, saying, “I believe in you. You’ve got this.”
And then there was the music—the Live in New Orleans album by Frankie Beverly and Maze. It wasn’t just a tape; it was a soundtrack to a pivotal moment in my life. I played that album over and over during the drive, and it became more than just songs. It was a companion on the road, filling the car with melodies that echoed the love and wisdom my father imparted to me. To this day, it remains my favorite album, a body of music that nothing else comes close to touching.
That road trip, with every mile I drove and every note I listened to, solidified a bond between us that words alone could never express. It was more than a journey across states; it was a journey into a deeper understanding of who I was, who my father was, and the love we shared.
Some might ask, what does Frankie Beverly have to do with construction? What connection could his music possibly have to the mission of the Black Contractors Association – Alabama Chapter (BCAAC)? To them, I would say this: Frankie Beverly’s songs are a reminder of who we are as a people. His music is about perseverance, unity, and hope – qualities that are at the core of our mission as Black construction professionals. His song Too Many Games reminds us of the challenges we face in a society that tries to play games with our progress, much like the Ed Blums of the world. Yet, like Frankie Beverly sang, “Time is on Our Side.” We understand that though the race may be long, we will not be denied. We have learned to approach every obstacle with optimism, believing in the value of staying the course and finishing strong.
Frankie Beverly reminded us of the importance of unity in his song We Are One. He taught us that no matter where we see ourselves fitting in this society, we are part of something bigger. This is the attitude we must take in the construction industry. We are not isolated professionals vying for individual success, but a collective striving for inclusion, equity, and representation. We Are One in our efforts to make sure that Black professionals are at the forefront of the economic prosperity that our culture inspires and deserves.
His song Back in Stride resonates particularly deeply. In the construction industry, setbacks can feel like the norm. But, like the lyrics say, “very soon, we’ll be back in stride.” The Black Contractors Association has faced its own share of challenges, but we push forward because we know that every step we take brings us closer to a future where Black men and women are fully included in the commercial construction industry. We will not be Running Away from these challenges – we face them head-on, with the same determination Frankie Beverly embodied in every note he sang.
And while we recognize the Joy and Pain that comes with the pursuit of change, we also know that the joy of seeing a more inclusive and equitable industry will outweigh the struggles. Frankie Beverly’s music teaches us to embrace both aspects of the journey. It’s in those moments of pain that we learn the most about our resilience and our strength.
One of the greatest messages Frankie Beverly gave us was that, through it all, Happy Feelings will return. His music inspired hope, and that same hope drives the mission of the BCAAC. We are working towards a day when inclusion in the construction industry is not just a goal but a reality. And when that day comes, it will be filled with the same happy feelings Frankie sang about – a deep satisfaction in knowing that we have uplifted our communities and made room for future generations to thrive.
As we reflect on Frankie Beverly’s impact, we recognize that his influence stretches far beyond the music itself. His songs are embedded in our culture, a culture that teaches us to support one another, love one another, and never give up. This is the spirit we carry with us in every project we undertake, in every barrier we break down, and in every opportunity we create for Black men and women in construction.
Frankie Beverly also taught us through his song Never Let You Down that true leaders don’t leave their people behind—and the BCAAC takes that to heart. We will never let down the Black construction professionals of Alabama. We will always provide a voice to represent our interests, just as Frankie never let us down. As President of the BCAAC, I stand by this commitment, and I can confidently say that, like Frankie sang, we love you much too much to ever give up on this mission.
The Black Contractors Association extends our heartfelt condolences to the Beverly family. We are deeply saddened by his passing, but we are also incredibly grateful to have been part of his journey. His music has inspired and motivated us, not just as individuals but as a collective working towards a shared vision. His songs will continue to guide us, reminding us that “We Are One,” and that together, we can accomplish anything.
We want to thank Frankie Beverly for being who he was, for giving us the gift of his music, and for taking us so far. His legacy will live on in every heart he touched, and in every project that we, as Black contractors, complete with the same spirit of perseverance and hope that he sang about.
As we move forward, we carry his words with us: Time is on our side, and we will be back in stride. We Are One.
Thank you, Frankie, for being a Lovely Inspiration.
Jarrod Sims
President, Black Contractors Association – Alabama Chapter (BCAAC)
