New Haven Independent

McAuley’s passing at age 57 brought together these two worlds as 150 people from all religions and walks of life celebrated him at a janazah, or Muslim funeral service.

Masjid Al-Islam board President Jimmie Jones said that the five-times-a-day prayer discipline of Islam helped McAuley prevail in a struggle with substance abuse.

The funeral service was held on Monday at the Howard K. Hill Funeral Parlor on Chapel Street after McAuley died at Yale-New Haven Hospital as a result of complications during heart surgery.

Although the heart had physically stopped, its spirit was alive and well along Chapel Street midweek.

To merchants for whom he worked, McAuley’s voice, energy, and caring spirit were part of what he brought to taking out the trash or recyclables.

Because of the holiday weekend they had not heard of his death and could not attend the service.

They seemed to have a need to talk about him.

Touched By “Benson”

“He was a lovely guy,” said Steve Kovel (at right in photo), the owner of Hull’s Art Supply and Framing on Chapel, where “Benson,” as everyone called him, cleaned windows and did odd jobs for nearly a decade.

“Ill miss his voice in the store,” said Shawn Szirbik. Szirbik looked forward to Benson’s riding up on his ubiquitous bike every other Thursday to do $30 or $40 worth of work at Hull’s.

Szirbik said Hull’s was one of some 20 places along Chapel and throughout downtown where McAuley did various clean-up, painting, and repair assignments over the years.

Tom Strong rents an office above Hull’s for his graphic design business. He said Benson had an unusually gracious air about him, especially for a guy who appeared at times to be a kind of street person, or struggling to get off the street.

“He was never pushy, always upbeat despite the tribulations in his life,” Strong said.

After Benson took down recyclables or cleaned up the common areas in the office building, Strong said, he occasionally gave Benson some defunct equipment. He’d strap it onto his bike and ride off with it to sell or recycle.

“Once he asked us to do a billhead for his business,” Strong (pictured) recalled.

[Benson] wasn’t sure what to call it. So we came up with ‘Mr. Windows.’ It was the one time we professionals were able to help him, with his graphics.”

“He was a free spirit,” Szirbik added. “Nobody owned him.”

That spirit was entwined with the arts and went back well before Benson became a Muslim in his early 20s, according to his surviving daughters, Shaunda Holloway and Anaya Myers.

At Hillhouse High Benson sang and played piano and congas for an R & B group known as The Meditations. Later in life “if you were an artist and musician, he’d purchase the CD. He had a broad appreciation of the arts,” Holloway said about her father.

The name of that group was a harbinger of things to come, when Benson became a Muslim in 1972. “Islam spoke to his heart,” said Anaya Myers. “His commitment to Islam helped him overcome his troubles. It was the source,” of the overcoming, she added.

Long before he’d appear on Chapel Street at 9 or 10 a.m. to ask if there was any work, he was at the mosque praying.

“Praying five times a day was a central part of Benson’s life,” said Jones of Masjid Al-Islam. In the summertime, McAuley would rise to be at the services by 4, and in the cold weather, 6.

Benson’s cousin and local jazz great Jesse Hameen said he would often call and ask for a ride. “If someone didn’t take him, he’d get on his bike and go, no matter what the weather.”

“He was deeply dedicated,” said Holloway. “It was something to marvel at how consistent and dedicated he was.”

Hameen called McAuley his friend and brother in religion and music.

“Off and on he struggled with alcohol and drugs, but he’s been totally clean since March 7, 2004,” when Benson’s mother died, said Hameen.

Hameen said it was not only the discipline of Islam that helped anchor Benson’s life but also a concept called taqua. It means “you worship knowing that you don’t see God, but God sees you so you conduct your life in a manner not to displease God. Benson was living that life,” Hameen explained.

Hameen said that when he brought Benson with him on music trips — last New Year’s Day they performed together with jazz guitarist Melvin Sparks Hassan — he’d sense any destitute person nearby,

“He’d say, ‘Stop the car a minute.’ [Going up to] a total stranger, no matter how old, young, Caucasian, African American, he could look at the person and read the person [and offer to] give a few dollars.”

Hameen said Benson guessed the person’s predicament right 100 percent of the time.

“He was spiritually very disciplined,” added daughter Holloway. “It seemed he wasn’t sacrificing anything. In other words, he was a true seeker.”

“As we were bringing him into surgery [at Yale-New Haven Hospital], he said to my cousin, ‘See, they have a mosque, a synagogue, a church. All can worship in their own way.’ Who says that before going into major heart surgery?”

Holloway said her father’s love for music and art continues through her own work as a visual artist and a poet and through Myers, a singer. “He was a listener, non-judgmental, forgiving,” Holloway said. “If you needed something, he would move heaven and earth to get it.”

They also loved the way their father smelled, of oil. “He’d give you money and the money always smelled like him,” Holloway said.

“He had that radiant smile and a quiet presence,” recalled Jimmy Jones. “I knew he was gone, but I looked for him in the prayer line,” said Jones.