Across Central Florida, legions of heroes dedicate their intelligence, their compassion and their hard work to make their communities a better place to live. Most have no expectation of recognition or reward. But people around them notice what they do.
When we asked our readers to help us choose the 2022 Central Floridian of the Year, many were eager to tell us about those heroes — people they looked up to, who were making a difference. Reading those nominations was inspiring, as it is every year. We had difficult choices to make. There were so many who would have been excellent choices.
This is an annual award, however, meant to honor the bright lights who helped Central Florida navigate 2021’s turbulent 12 months.
We were looking for more than just the right people. We sought the right people, at the right time. Our five finalists couldn’t be more different — but each one stepped up when they were needed.
Those finalists are:
Eric Camarillo
Camarillo looked beyond the daunting statistics of this area’s growing homeless population and saw people struggling without bare necessities that many of us take for granted — a hot shower, or somewhere to wash clothes. Having endured a period of homelessness himself, the UCF student understood the isolation and humiliation they faced every day. So Camarillo decided to take necessary services into the streets where they lived. To accomplish that goal, he founded SALT Outreach with a handful of volunteers.
That was 10 years ago. Now SALT Outreach has hundreds of volunteers and a $1 million budget. Last year it played a critical role as COVID ravaged the homeless population.
“When everyone else was closing down and staying home, Eric and his team were the ones that ran toward the problem,” Lisa Portelli, senior advisor to Orlando Mayor Buddy Dyer on homelessness, told the Sentinel’s Jennifer Marcial Ocasio.
Camarillo treats his accomplishments with great modesty. But this organization helps make life better for hundreds of local residents just trying to survive – and is spreading its mission as far away as Daytona Beach and Tampa. It’s a success story that is just beginning.
Mae Hazelton
For Hazelton, who successfully led the charge to keep Lake County from accepting and displaying a bronze statue of a Confederate general that once stood in the U.S. Capitol, this past year has given her the chance to savor victory. The statue she rallied against was transported to Tallahassee this year, months after and the glorious new marble likeness of famed Daytona Beach educator and civil-rights leader Mary McLeod Bethune was unveiled on its way to the nation’s Statuary Hall.
It was a sweet coda for Hazelton, who first learned of secretive plans to display the statue of Confederate General Kirby Smith in the Tavares courthouse in 2018. She was furious: Having grown up in Lake County, she knew this was the same courthouse where one of Florida’s most notorious race-driven episodes played out, the sham trial of innocent men known as the Groveland Four. Channeling her anger into action, she achieved something remarkable: A consensus that Lake County officials had made a mistake and a resolve that Lake County wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of the past.
Steven Meyer
Like Hazelton, Maitland attorney Meyer was first drawn into battle by something that turned his stomach — the 2015 state-sanctioned hunt that resulted in the deaths of hundreds of Florida bears. He contacted those protesting the bear hunt and then filed suit,, arguing that state wildlife officials didn’t have the authority to allow the hunt. Just like that, he had picked up a new, part-time and unpaid job: He’d become the lawyer for Central Florida’s raccoons, wood storks, indigo snake; its marshes, rivers and streams.
In 2020, Meyer was instrumental in drafting the Orange County charter amendment meant to preserve the rights of the water bodies that support wildlife — a way to push back against pollution and over-development. The Legislature struck before voters could even weigh in, passing a law outlawing local “rights of nature” amendments. (A few months later, voters approved it by a whopping 89 percent anyway.)
Once again, Meyers did what lawyers do: In May 2021, he filed suit last year to block a massive planned development in East Orange County — and named several local water bodies as his clients. His suit also strikes back against the Legislature, asking a judge to declare that lawmakers are illegally nullifying local governments’ rights. This is the first lawsuit of its kind in Florida, and perhaps in the nation — but if he loses this time, Meyers says, he’ll keep coming back.
Richard Lapchick
Richard Lapchick, the son of a legendary NBA coach who broke the league’s racial barriers and received death threats as a result, gained a thirst for racial justice at a young age. He was just a teenager when he started fighting himself, stepping in to defend a Black player at a basketball camp. That player, then called Lew Alcindor, is now known as NBA hall of famer Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, and is still a friend.
That episode helped set Lapchick on the path to a lifelong career fighting racial and gender injustice — focusing on the intersection of bigotry and sports. He’s been brutally beaten and his family threatened. That didn’t stop him — or dull his growing reputation as a trusted advisor to world leaders and legendary sports figures.
In 2002, he came to the University of Central Florida to lead the DeVos Sport Business Management Graduate Program — and soon founded The Institute for Diversity and Ethics in Sport (TIDES) which issues closely watched report cards tracking patterns of under-representation and exclusion. In late 2021, he announced he’s stepping down from his academic role, he plans to continue his activism. That’s good: The world
needs him.
Marucci Guzman
Guzman described herself to the Sentinel’s Jennifer Marcial Ocasio as a “professional beggar.” A better title might be one-woman whirlwind. As Central Florida’s Hispanic population grows — and grows and grows — she has seen more people separated from services they need by a language barrier. And she’s determined to fix that.
She’s currently head of three organizations: Latino Leadership, which serves the Central Florida Latino community; Clínica Mi Salud, a clinic that provides mental health and medical services to non-English speakers and a center for families of autistic children.
We wouldn’t be surprised to see her taking on additional causes — and drawing more people to her cause. As many local officials have learned, she can be a fiercely effective advocate who is quick to spring into action in the face of a crisis, such as the 2017 hurricane that devastated Puerto Rico.
Guzman’s parents left Puerto Rico for Florida when she was three, which makes many of these fights local for her – and that happened again in 2021. When her mother was hospitalized with COVID, she stepped up her lobbying for additional informational resources for non-English speakers.
Who knows what she’ll tackle next? But one thing is clear: She intends to push until she sees progress. It’s the kind of advocacy Central Florida needs.
Coming Wednesday: Our pick
As you can see, each of the finalists merits recognition and acclaim. Over the past year, and more, they have seen problems and found innovative ways to address them. They took on tough fights because they couldn’t bear to stand on the sidelines. And they were relentless in their advocacy, inspiring others to rally.
Wednesday we’ll honor each of them — and name one as Central Floridian of the Year. We hope readers find their stories inspirational, and a reminder that this area is home to extraordinary people, doing extraordinary things, every day. (Limited tickets remain; if you’d like to attend, email Opinion editor Krys Fluker at kfluker@orlandosentinel.com or visit https://www.eventbrite.com/e/central-floridian-of-the-year-awards-breakfast-tickets-224022917577?aff=ebdssbdestsearch)
The Orlando Sentinel Editorial Board consists of Opinion Editor Krys Fluker, Jennifer A. Marcial Ocasio, Jay Reddick and Editor-in-Chief Julie Anderson. Contact us at insight@orlandosentinel.com.
