Roosevelt was born in 1943 in Rosa, Louisiana, a small rural town, to Elouise Pointer, a homemaker, and Marshall Edwards, a laborer. He came up in the South during hard times, and those times shaped him. As a boy fetching water in the cotton fields, he learned what it meant to move with purpose: a lesson in discipline he would carry for the rest of his life. He grew up in a shotgun house filled with relatives, and the warmth and noise of that upbringing never lelt him. It became the well from which he drew his greatest stories.

In his adolescence, he moved to Kinder, Louisiana, and by the age of seventeen, he determined to find a new horizon, and he joined the military. Instead of finding opportunity, he painfully discovered that segregation followed men even into uniform.

In 1961, Roosevelt arrived in Chicago, connecting first with his Brother James. He found work at a men's clothing store, where the owner-underestimating the young man in front of him-wrote on the application, "dumb but willing."

Unsurprisingly, Roosevelt became one of the best salesmen they had due to his gift for people that no one could teach and no one could take away.

He soon found spiritual community through Reverend Morgan and his family, with whom he lived, singing in the church choir. During this time, Roosevelt pursued his love of music. He took lessons, practiced for hours, and dreamed of a singing career. He admired the greats-Johnny Mathis, Nat King Cole, Marvin Gaye-and served as an opening act for local artists. Throughout his life, he never shied away from an opportunity to sing when the moment called for it.

He later enrolled in college and met Jalela Sharrieff (later Jalela Pointer). They married in 1961, and together they built a family and a life.

Roosevelt often said that meeting Jalela’s  father, Osman Sharrieff, was like "meeting God" because of his transformative teachings. Jalela was his partner through the full arc of his journey, including the most difficult chapters near its end, when she cared for him with grace and unwavering devotion.

Roosevelt's professional life was a testament to ambition and reinvention. He became a Foreman at Illinois Bell Telephone Company, working on the tall utility poles that still line the alleys of Chicago's neighborhoods. He was a union man, proud of his craft and his colleagues.

It was during his time at Illinois Bell that Roosevelt demonstrated the kind of courage that gets a man recognized by a Governor. One evening in 1977, while sitting in the lobby of Illinois Bell's Oakland central office, Roosevelt looked out and saw an armed man accosting a woman across the street.

He didn't hesitate. He alerted the police officers at the central office immediately, and the robber was captured before he could harm her. A police commander put it plainly: we could put 15,000 policemen on the street, but we still need people to get involved, and Roosevelt did that. The Daily Calumet, one of America's Oldest Community Daily Newspapers, covered the story.

In 1980, he opened Job Mart, a staffing agency in downtown Chicago-making him one of the first minority owners of a staffing agency in the city's downtown corridor. It was a milestone he earned.

However, his most enduring entrepreneurial venture was the Economy Glass Block Company he founded with his partner Bill Blancard.

Starting on East 79th Street-where passersby could look through the window and watch the men at work-and later expanding to a larger warehouse and office on East Stony Island, Roosevelt employed young men from the community, giving them not just a paycheck but a skill and a sense of pride. His daughter Jamillah managed the phones and bookkeeping, and his son Jamil learned the craft beside him. That legacy did not stop when Roosevelt did: Jamil runs a window business of his own, carrying his father's legacy forward with every installation.

To know Roosevelt was to know a man who was fully, unapologetically alive. He fished, hunted, and skinned his own catch. He golfed, and eventually became a licensed golf instructor, approaching the fairway with the same patience he brought to his loved ones. He rode motorcycles. He owned boats, despite not being the strongest swimmer, which his family will tell you was very on-brand.

He packed up campers and drove his family into the middle of nowhere. Oh, and he loved the casino, embracing the thrill of the game, sometimes walking away a winner, and sometimes running with a story to tell, but always with a grin that made you wish you'd been there.

And yet, for all the adventure and the thrill of life, Roosevelt's favorite hours may have been the quiet ones. He preferred his mornings to be filled with coffee and quiet moments with nature. Many times, you could find him gazing out the window, observing something beyond what eyes could see.

He did not like to see children suffer. He did not like to see vulnerable people mistreated. When he saw it, he said something. When he could do something, he did. He stood up for his family, for his community, for strangers who needed someone to stand up for them. That was not a trait he talked about. It was simply who he was.

And the stories. Lord, the stories. From the cotton fields of Louisiana to the floors of Chicago's clothing stores, from the church pew to the golf course, from Soul Train he once crossed paths with the legendary Don Cornelius during his Illinois Bell years to the glass block windows of 79th Street. He was a beautiful storyteller. The kind you didn't want to interrupt, even when you had heard it before. 

Roosevelt is survived by his devoted life partner and former wife, Jalela Pointer, whose love and care carried him through the final chapter of his life. From their union came their beloved children, Jamillah Pointer and Jamil Pointer. He is also the proud father of Khareem Pointer, whose mother is Gwendolyn Goldman, and of Rodney Pointer-Jones and Ezra Pointer-Jones from his marriage to Debra Jones, along with stepchildren Larry Willingham, Candice Chambers, and Kimberley Willingham, all of whom he cherished as part of his family.

He is survived by his eldest brother, James Bridgforth (Linda Bridgforth), and by his living siblings Joseph Edwards Sr.(Edra) Calvin Edwards Sr., Carl Lee Edwards, and Morris Edwards. He joins in the afterlife his brothers Robert Pointer (Delores Pointer) and Milton Johnson, as well as his siblings Sylvia Edwards Tanner, Ollie Mae Edwards Ford, Eunice Edwards, Marshal Edwards Ir., and Lester Edwards Sr.

He leaves behind a host of grandchildren, great-grandchildren, aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, & cousins,