At Geraldine Chapman Talley's funeral, speakers remember her caring nature, call for Buffalo to 'stand united against hate'

She always offered to bake cakes and other treats for family and friends, showing off her cooking skills for their weddings, baby showers and work events. She constantly called her brothers and sisters, keeping up to date with her many nieces and nephews and all of their birthdays. 

She and her son, Mark Talley Jr., spoke every couple of days. 

"She constantly made sure that she let me know that she loved me," said Mark, who texted with his mother for the last time on Mother's Day. "She always wanted to know what I'm doing, what I'm up to, if I'm OK. And do I need anything that she can cook."

The Rev. James A. Lewis III, the service's presiding officiant, told the more than 100 people who arrived in the rain Friday morning to Mount Aaron Missionary Baptist Church in Buffalo to think of the last thing Talley baked for them that made them happy, using those feelings to celebrate her life and honor her legacy. Talley, 62, was one of 10 people killed May 14 in a racist mass shooting at Tops supermarket on Jefferson Avenue, where she and her fiancé, Gregory Allen, were shopping for a few quick items after spending time earlier that day along the water at Foot of Ferry. 

Allen, who met and fell in love with Talley in 2015, was in another aisle to get iced tea when the shooting occurred. He was able to survive by climbing into a cooler.

On Friday at the church, only a mile from Tops, tissue boxes circulated as those gathered heard memories of Talley, in between powerful singing performances and impassioned speeches from pastors as far away as Chicago who flew in for the funeral.

The service was, first and foremost, a celebration of her life, but also a call to action by speakers such as the Rev. Al Sharpton, a civil rights leader and founder and president of the National Action Network.

Sharpton said the community will be judged by what it does in the aftermath of the worst racist massacre in the country since 2015 when a white supremacist killed nine parishioners in a Charleston, S.C., church. It's up to the community to rebuild Buffalo in the name of the 10 people killed, he said, into a place where stores and resources are as plentiful on the East Side of the city as any neighborhood in the region.

"We will go forward and turn this Tops disaster into a resurrection of raising children where there won't be one grocery store on our side of town," Sharpton said.

National civil rights attorney Benjamin L. Crump promised justice for Talley and the other victims, seeking to go to "the root of the hate" and also go after the gun manufacturers, retailers and distributors.

"What we saw on that video was evil, and we cannot condone evil," he said. "We must protest evil. We must protest inhumanity. We must protest hatred. We must protest sin that killed the Buffalo 10 and Geraldine Talley. So I say to you in this plea for justice, we will only get justice if we stand united against hate."

Sharpton and Crump echoed that it will be on the family and the community to carry on and define Talley's legacy.

In tributes and letters read aloud Friday, they gave a glimpse of who she was. 

A tribute from a niece recalled Talley surprising her in third grade with "the most gorgeous and whimsical cake" she had ever seen, making her proud to have such a talented and generous aunt. Another niece lamented never again being able to hear Talley say, "I love you, my Niecy Pooh." 

Her son, Mark, remembered the uniquely funny moments they shared as mother and son. He would comment on her lottery tickets and her desire to play slot machines. She would joke about how old her 32-year-old son was getting when his knees would crack.

He also knew his mother loved talking about him, remembering how proud and happy she was when he graduated from Canisius High School and later SUNY Buffalo State College. 

"She constantly encouraged me to keep doing more than what you think you can do," said Mark, who now works at Erie County Medical Center as he pursues his master's degree in public health.

At the end of the service Friday, Mark walked up to the front of the church, where his mother's red urn was surrounded by red flowers – her favorite color.

He then, joined with the pastors, carried his mother's urn down the aisle and out of the church, where the morning's rain had become early afternoon sunshine.