Mo Bailey never quit on life, veterans

I had been in the Valley for a couple months when I first met Maurice Bailey. Between the near constant calls and e-mails trying to poke and prod the newspaper’s newest editorial staff addition whether he had pro- or anti-MEA leanings, one note nearly was lost in the shuffle.

Among other pieces of advice, it said I needed to meet Mo Bailey. At the time, I didn’t know why, so when I saw his name pop up again as a participant at a local event for veterans, I introduced myself. I’ve since chewed a lot of ground covering the Mat-Su and count what developed into a genuine professional friendship among the best experiences I’ve had in my nearly 20 years as a journalist.

I, along with many others, was profoundly saddened to learn of Bailey’s death on Tuesday. He was a true champion for veterans and carried himself with a humility that belied his gregarious spirit. He never said a bad word about anybody and always had a smile and a laugh.

I was even more impressed in 2007 when he was recognized for his efforts as co-founder of Veterans Aviation Outreach as a recipient of the Governor’s Veterans Advocacy Award. He dedicated the last years of his life to bringing life-saving and life-changing help to veterans in Alaska’s Bush, even while his own life was slowly ebbing.

Two years ago, he was diagnosed with acute myeloid leukemia (AML) and given an outside chance to live 12 more months. During that time, I’d seen Bailey all over the Valley continuing to do what he loved — working behind the scenes for veterans. Each time we’d chat and he was always realistic about his disease. It was fatal and he knew it.

“It’s always a good day to be with veterans,” he always said whenever I’d ask how he was holding up.

Last November, Bailey had already outlived his prognosis by four months and I caught up with him for a final interview. I have to admit, it wasn’t much like any other interview I’ve done. It was a chat, a discussion between friends. He was open, candid and displayed the same indomitable spirit he carried throughout his battle with AML.

He treated his disease holistically, not wanting to waste away painfully while undergoing harsh chemotherapy treatments.

Doctors kept “hammering on me about going on chemo, but I say chemo will kill you,” he said. “I started eating right and I’ll be around here for awhile. … I feel great, but I’m not in denial. I know I have leukemia. I know I’m going in once a month for blood transfusions.”

When asked if he ever had low points in his struggle where he just wanted to give up, Bailey perked up even more.

“There is no quit,” he said, as many true soldiers would. “I’m never going to prepare myself to die. Never.”

I recall thinking at the time how much his emphatic will to never quit reminded me of Jim Valvano’s famous speech at the 1993 ESPY Awards. He was on the tail end of a year-long battle with bone cancer.

“Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up,” Valvano said. “Cancer can take away all of my physical abilities. It cannot touch my mind, it cannot touch my heart and it cannot touch my soul. And those three things are going to carry on forever.”

Valvano died two months after delivering this speech.

Mo Bailey is proof of those sentiments. His leukemia never touched his mind, heart and soul. But his gentle generosity will always touch our hearts and souls, and I hope to carry Mo Bailey with me forever. No greater tribute can be paid to this Valley patriot than by continuing his work, in whatever small or large way we can, for veterans.

Rest in peace, Mo. You’ll be missed.

Greg Johnson is a reporter for the Mat-Su Valley Frontiersman.