Rapper’s upbeat spirit recalled

Stepping out of a long, white limousine, the young widow of Jason “Jam Master Jay” Mizell and her three young sons wore wide-brimmed black fedoras and black leather jackets as they marched somberly into an overflowing church. The boys also wore white Adidas sneakers -- the signature attire of their slain father, who pioneered not only the thumping, scratching music of rap but much of the culture around it.

Mizell, DJ of the seminal rap group Run-DMC, was memorialized at a funeral service in this New York borough Tuesday as a hero, a man who revolutionized a nascent hip-hop culture in the early 1980s and served as its role model for the generations to come.

“He might not have lived long,” said the Rev. Floyd H. Flake, leader of the Allen A.M.E. Cathedral, where the service was held, “but he lived well by contributions to his community.”

Mizell, 37, was slain a week ago by a masked gunman who put a single bullet in his head while he played video games with friends in the lounge of his Queens recording studio. Police are investigating several theories about who might have taken the life of a man whose group eschewed violence in its popular rap lyrics. So far, there are no suspects, according to police.

Surrounded by funeral wreaths in vibrant colors, some shaped like turntables and musical notes, Mizell’s bandmates Joseph “Run” Simmons and Darryl “DMC” McDaniel remembered their friend as upbeat and fun-loving, a partyer, fashion innovator and devoted family man.

“Let’s not ask why Jason is gone; Jason did what he was supposed to do,” Simmons said, looking at an audience not only of family and neighbors but also the elite of the East Coast rap industry, including Simmons’ brother Russell Simmons, an entertainment entrepreneur and hip-hop activist, LL Cool J, Chuck D and Professor Griff of Public Enemy, Foxy Brown, Jermaine Dupri, the members of A Tribe Called Quest including Q Tip, and many others.

The turnout was no surprise to police, who were out in force, nor to hundreds of young kids off from school because of election day. They waited hours in the streets around the church to ogle the funeral procession.

“Whoa, there’s Foxy,” said Milton Jackson, a 20-year-old junior at St. John’s University who strained to see the rap celebrities as they got out of their SUVs and black sedans and headed into church. “She’s even prettier than I thought.”

Run-DMC was the most significant group to shape hip-hop, these youngsters insisted, explaining that the three members were the first rappers with a full-length album, first with a gold album, first with a platinum album, first with a multi-platinum album, first on MTV, first on the cover of Rolling Stone.

But in recent years, as Run-DMC’s popularity waned and edgier groups surpassed them, each member went on to other careers. Mizell, his wife, Terri, and their children lived in a middle-class neighborhood in Queens, and the DJ shifted from performing to acting mostly as a scout for new talent. He also founded the Scratch D.J. Academy in Manhattan, where students learned his techniques.

Inside the church, Simmons, who became a minister and also settled in Queens with his wife and five children, told the burgeoning crowd that the thousands of mourners illustrated how loved Mizell remained: “This is his latest hit and the one we’ll all remember.”

Later, McDaniel, his voice breaking, said “Jam Master Jay was not a thug. Jam Master Jay was not a gangster. Jay was a creative individual ... he was the personification, the embodiment of hip-hop.” Then, with his arm around Simmons and a fist in the air, he did a rap from the group’s hit “Jam Master Jay,” that ended with everyone in the church shouting out his name.

Rev. Flake alluded to how the death was a tragedy on many levels -- a family lost its father, a culture lost its icon, and despite an upbeat message and a campaign against thuggery, Mizell still lost his life when someone aimed a gun at his temple.

Flake asked the 2,400 people in the church to stand and vow “not to participate in acts of violence.” In unison, the crowd recited, “I make a vow that I will value life.”

In addition to eulogies by friends and family, including a cousin who is a minister in North Carolina who told funny stories about Mizell’s relentless enthusiasm and loyalty to his family, the funeral included much traditional music. Gospel star Donnie McClurkin sang several standards, and a local artist named Sparkle sang a rendition of “Amazing Grace” that brought tears to the eyes of even the archest young rappers in their black leather suits, heavy gold chains and unlaced sneakers.