Written by Emanuel ‘Dupree’ Jackson.
Some people walk into your life and quietly change the course of it forever. Gerald B. “Jerry” Hildebrand was one of those people.
I met Jerry in May of 2021, thanks to a thoughtful introduction from my friend Mark Cassini, founder of Community Greening. Mark had recently moved his organization’s office into the Lynn University Social Impact Lab, an innovation hub founded and led by Jerry. After hearing about the EJS Project and what we were building, Jerry was eager to meet.
That’s who he was a natural connector. He wasn’t just someone who supported causes; he sought out people. He looked for grit and passion. He recognized talent not just by what was on paper, but by the fire in someone’s eyes, by the conviction in their voice when they talked about making change. And after our very first conversation, he saw something in me.
He followed up almost immediately with information about applying for a Watson Institute internship to support our work at EJS. I was honored and a little surprised. But Jerry had this way of making you feel seen, not just for what you’d done but for what you could become. He gave me a gentle nudge to get the application in. I listened.
We didn’t know that would be our only real interaction. Jerry passed away just a few months later in October of 2021.
It hit me harder than I expected. Even though I had only known him a short while, I felt a real sense of loss. I was hungry for more time, more conversations, more stories, more insight into the mind of a man who had already done so much good in the world. Jerry was one of those rare people you meet and immediately want to learn from. He was incredibly well-traveled, deeply compassionate, and believed with all his heart in the power of individuals to create a better society. He embodied what it meant to live in service to others.
What I came to learn later was that Jerry’s life had been full of extraordinary acts of service and innovation. From his early days as a Peace Corps volunteer working with the Aymara people on the shores of Lake Titicaca in Peru, to his decades-long leadership in international development and microfinance, Jerry’s career spanned continents and transformed lives. He directed the first rural Economic Development Corporation in the U.S. in Appalachia. He helped pioneer microcredit programs in Central America, creating financial opportunities for hundreds of thousands, particularly women with repayment rates that defied expectations.
Jerry was also one of the original Robert F. Kennedy Fellows and even spent a summer caring for Kennedy’s children. His life was full of bold choices and unwavering commitment to those often left behind. He built programs, launched organizations, and mentored changemakers long before the term “social entrepreneur” was in the mainstream.
That’s what made the Social Impact Lab at Lynn University such a powerful reflection of his legacy. It wasn’t just a co-working space or classroom. It was a living, breathing ecosystem for students and young professionals passionate about solving real-world problems. Under Jerry’s leadership, it became a launchpad for global service experiences like the Ambassador Corps, and a bridge between passionate young minds and the organizations that needed them most. The Lab represented what Jerry had always believed—that education, when combined with purpose, can be a radical force for good.
And Jerry’s belief in that idea didn’t end with his passing.
In January 2022, I received a phone call from a young man named Aarif Khan, a student at Watson Institute. Aarif had heard about the EJS Project through Jerry, who had recommended us as a potential placement for his internship. Even in his absence, Jerry was still connecting the dots, still shaping futures.
Aarif joined our team in February, and I quickly realized just how spot-on Jerry’s instincts were. At just 19 years old, Aarif carried himself with grace, humility, and clarity of purpose well beyond his years. He didn’t just support the work; he elevated it. Our programs became sharper, our operations more thoughtful, our vision more expansive. It felt like Jerry had gifted us a piece of himself.
In Aarif, I found the kind of relationship I had hoped to build with Jerry, one rooted in mutual respect, curiosity, and a shared belief in the power of people. And in a beautifully ironic way, I found myself stepping into Jerry’s shoes in that dynamic. Guiding, encouraging, and learning right alongside someone younger with a fierce drive to make the world better.
Jerry may have only appeared briefly in my story, but his impact was anything but small. He was a living example of how one person, armed with empathy and conviction, can touch lives far beyond their own reach. He multiplied good. He believed in people. And he left the world better than he found it, sometimes through big, global initiatives, and sometimes through a single phone call that sparked a lifelong connection.
As I continue building the EJS Project, I carry Jerry’s legacy with me. I remain intentional about how I show up for people, about the way I use my time, my platform, and my voice. Because life is precious.
And while we’re here, we should, like Jerry, leave footprints on people’s hearts. Rest well, Jerry. You are not forgotten. Your legacy lives on in Aarif, in the EJS Project, and in me.