John Hawthorne Made Sarasota’s Newtown His Home
By Lori Benton
I met John Hawthorne in 2003 at the City of Sarasota’s Newtown Redevelopment Office. When he later called me into his office, he asked two simple words:
“You ready?”
“Yes, sir,” I answered. “Let’s make it happen.”
And that is exactly what John did.
When John came to Sarasota, he understood the weight of the responsibility entrusted to him. Newtown was not simply another redevelopment project or a line on a city planning map. It was—and remains—a historic African American community shaped by generations of families, businesses, churches, challenges, triumphs, and dreams.
John respected that.
He did not simply work in Newtown. He became part of the community. He listened to its residents, learned from its history, and made Sarasota his second home. Over the years, he became one of the people helping shape Newtown’s redevelopment—pushing the community toward the future it deserved while never losing sight of the people who called it home.
That balance mattered.
Newtown’s history is central to Sarasota’s story. Its legacy reflects the contributions, resilience, and determination of African American residents who helped build the city while creating a community of their own. As redevelopment moved forward, John understood that progress had to honor that history—not erase it.
But John’s legacy cannot be measured only in plans, projects, or redevelopment initiatives. It lives in people.
He carried himself with honor and grace. He mentored, encouraged, challenged, and believed in us. He could sit in a meeting discussing the future of a community and then remind you that behind every plan were real people whose lives mattered.
And, for the record, the man could make a mean honey bun cake.
For 23 years, I was blessed to know John—not simply as a colleague and mentor, but as my Baba.
Newtown was blessed to have John Hawthorne. Sarasota was blessed to have him. And those of us who were fortunate enough to be loved, taught, and challenged by him are better because he was here.
Rest easy, Baba.
You made it happen.
Now it is our responsibility to keep making it happen.
