Residents call him loving, a class act, and a mentor. He left a lasting impression.

The San Quentin community remembers the man behind the hugs, by expressing their appreciation for his service.

Marcus “Wali” Henderson mentored, befriended, and inspired people regardless of their circumstances. He often reached out to the youth to help them understand their true identity.

“Wali mentored me from the first week I arrived at San Quentin until he went home. He cared for me and loved me like I was his son,” said resident Eric Allen. “He always wanted the best for me and every time he saw me, Wali embraced me with open arms, with what I call a Wali hug.”

Henderson also impacted teenage boys at a Miami juvenile-detention center, under the guidance of Henry Unger, who teaches journalism at the Florida facility.

According to Unger, Henderson helped him organize and maintain a letter-writing exchange program between San Quentin residents and the youth at the center.

“Shortly before his death, the boys were able to talk with him [Henderson] on Zoom about many different topics,” Unger said. “Wali was a class act all the way and will be sincerely missed.”

Tyrone “Luqman” Jones said that Henderson left behind an ironclad legacy of footprints throughout the prison system.

Jones often reminisces about the hug Henderson gave him after Jones gave him his final haircut before he paroled.

“The last thing he told me was, ‘Let this be your last stop. A cage is no place for a bird; get out and spread your wings.’ Truer words were never spoken. From Allah (God) we come, to him we shall return,” Jones said.

Resident Deandre Brumfield describes Henderson as an un-apologetic Black man.

Brumfield said that Henderson gave him a chance when others would not, teaching him that that media wasn’t just for show, but to give incarcerated people a voice, in order to tell their own stories.

“It hurts me more than I want to admit that he’s gone. I wish we had some more time in society to make the same impact he had on me,” Brumfield said. “I will continue to carry him with me, and pay forward his impact in hopes that his work continues. He will be missed but not forgotten.”

Steven “Rhashiyd” Zinnamon said that Henderson was one of his closest friends and that when he was on the verge of a meltdown Henderson knew exactly what to say.

“I told him, ‘I will hug you every day until one of us leaves, or moves on.’ The brother gave the most sincere hugs. He literally wanted for others what he wanted for himself,” Zinnamon said. “I will miss you Akhi [brother].”

Resident Michael “Mik’ael” Walker II said he has ascertained a lot by observing Henderson’s conduct among our Islamic community and the incarcerated people.

Walker added that he is appreciative of the private and collective dialogue between him and Henderson, about efforts to build up men, especially the youth who are struggling with their identity.

“Patience is said to be a virtue and you embodied such a virtue. I am humbled by your display of being patient,” Walker II said. “To Allah [God] we belong and to him is our return, Habeeb.”

George “Mesro” Coles-EL said that Henderson always had a smile and a kind word, even when it was the harsh truth.

“I miss his hugs, which were full of love. I still remember him sitting in front of the Media Center, his toes out in the sun while drinking coffee and having a snack,” Coles-El said. “Wali, I love you brother. May Allah [God] forgive your sins and grant you paradise. Your memory is a blessing!”

Journalism Guild writer Terrell J. Marshall says because of Henderson’s authenticity in wanting to help others, he has great admiration, respect, and a special place in his heart for him.

“It seems more poignant now remembering Wali. He wanted to teach us as much as he could before he paroled,” Marshall said. “I will always remember his big smile, his big hugs, and the precious time he took in helping us learn our craft.”

Sports Editor Anthony M. Caravalho said that Henderson mentored him whenever he made mistakes as a student in the Journalism Guild.

“A foreshadow of his mentorship was the essence of his leadership. He took me to his wood shed; it wasn’t done punitively or diminutively, but as a lesson on learning to heal,” Caravalho said.

Sammy Nichols, a Bridging the Gap participant, said that Henderson created a safe place for people to be vulnerable and to live in their truth, so they could heal and learn how to really be there for humanity.

“When I think of the Islamic saying ‘Want for your brother what you want for yourself,’ Wali embodied that. Thank you for keeping it one-hundred, big bro. I love you,” Nichols said.

Kojo Damani Clutchette said Henderson is forever etched into the fabric of the SQ community. Ever since Clutchette first met him, he never saw any discrepancy in his walk staying true to his faith.

“You [Henderson] introduced that our understanding is found in unity, [and] our beauty is so pronounced because we are not monolithic [monumental],” Clutchette said. “The next generation heard your call to service and showed up to ‘Bridging the Gap’ every Friday. I learned a lot through you and vow to carry the torch. Standing salute.’”

SQ community elder Amir Shabazz said he met Henderson in 2014, as soon he arrived at the prison, and he was off and running by assisting in self-help groups.

Shabazz said Henderson told the Muslim community he was going to be a “prominent” member.

“We were in the self-help group Alliance for Change, and I found out we shared the same cultural and historical interests, religious and moral beliefs,” Shabazz said.

Spanish Journalism Guild Chair Edwin E. Chavez worked with Henderson for more than five years. Chavez said Henderson never gave up on equality and social justice.

“Marcus [Henderson] was not only for the Muslim community, he was for everyone,” Chavez said. “I personally lost someone who taught me the true meaning of inclusivity by giving a voice to the voiceless in breaking language barriers.”

Journalism Guild writer Harry C. Goodall Jr. said he found it difficult to say goodbye. Henderson was more than a mentor, but known for his hugs because in prison hugging is not common.

“Wali reminded me not to let go of my humanity, even when I don’t see it,” Goodall Jr. said. “He gave me a reason to pick my head up, walk without of self-pity, and get a hold on my depression. I love and miss you, dear brother, until we meet again.”