By Atlanta Tribune
(Source: Atlanta Tribune)
Leonard Corbin was a man of a thousand stories, but few words. It didn’t matter whether it was about iconic Detroit high school athletes from half a century ago, civil rights protests in the 1980s, or obscure music facts from one-hit wonders, he knew at least a little bit about a lot of things and could always add to a conversation with the wisdom and insights he had gained throughout his life.
His life experiences had taken him on countless journeys. Growing up in Detroit in the 1960s and 1970s, attending the University of Michigan and Michigan State University in the 1970s and 1980s, his leisurely travels across the globe, and working as a sales and marketing professional, Corbin – affectionately known as “LC” – saw so much in his 64 years of life.
Unfortunately, he also saw firsthand what it was like to fight cancer, too. LC took his final breath last week after succumbing to complications after a months-long battle with cancer. He was 64 years old.
Despite the debilitating nature of his medical condition, LC remained optimistic through it all. He would show up to the Michigan Chronicle’s office after blood transfusions, chemotherapy, and doctor’s appointments, where he would lead the Real Times Media sales team in Detroit. For years, LC’s job with the Michigan Chronicle was helping businesses in Southeast Michigan connect with our readers in unique, authentic ways. He helped them tell stories in ways that he knew would resonate with Black people, because for years he had been doing the same personally and professionally, and he knew how to add value – whether it was to a conversation amongst friends or to a company looking to market a product or service.
He graduated from the University of Michigan in 1985 with a degree in Marketing Communications before attending Michigan State University’s College of Law. But he really laid down roots as a kid in Detroit. Small in stature, but big in heart, LC ran track in high school at the University of Detroit Jesuit High School and Academy.
LC shared a memory of his high school days when Minnesota Attorney General Keith Ellison, LC’s childhood neighbor, stopped by Michigan Chronicle’s office for an interview in 2024.
“This cat was running in tennis shoes on a dirt track and would dust anybody who lined up next to him,” Ellison said of Corbin, as the two shared a laugh and a hug.
Shortly after his track and field days ended in high school, LC was a student at the University of Michigan, where he turned his passion to fighting for Black people’s rights. He quickly became engulfed in student life as a member of the Black Student Union at U-M. He helped organize seminars at the university about the liberation of South Africa, the state of Black students and Black people around the country, and celebrations of triumph for things like the Black Action Movement’s 1970 protest on campus.
Later in life, LC was twice married, and he had one daughter, Camryn, whom he affectionately called his “Baby Girl.” Every chance he got, he would proudly talk about her and her accomplishments with an ear-to-ear smile. He talked about taking her to a football game against Northwestern University at his alma mater earlier this season, bringing up that memory even when it wasn’t on topicc.
He loved playing golf, relaxing on a beach, and attending comedy shows, old-school R&B concerts, or any event that called for him to throw on a nice outfit. He was also passionate about his work at Michigan Chronicle and the Real Times Media mission: to authentically connect business and brands with the Black experience. He was pushed professionally to evolve and to be creative, and he built bridges with countless organizations and people in the area because of his passion for the work. Leonard was always in the room during Michigan Chronicle’s Pancakes & Politics and our celebrations of Black excellence, shaking hands with partners and congratulating award recipients. In the newsroom, he was a Detroit historian, always giving reporters tips and background information about the stories being written. He would often overhear a conversation and start to chime in with, “I’m not ear-hustling or anything, but…” before following up with some enlightening words.
It was the LC way – never the center of attention, but always making his presence felt. Never boastful, but always proud.
We’ll miss you, LC, for both the memories we made with you and the stories shared from memories you made before we knew you. Rest easy, LC.
With Love,
Your Michigan Chronicle and Real Times Media family
