Our thoughts turn to Earl Lloyd, the Virginia native who, in October 1950, became the first African-American to play in the NBA.

Mr. Lloyd died last week at age 86.

Growing up in Alexandria, he played basketball in the run-down facilities of a segregated high school that had no gymnasium. Basketball was played in the auditorium. In college at West Virginia State, he played in the CIAA, helping his team to championships in 1948 and 1949.

His skills, however, shined through any obstacles. The Washington Capitols drafted him in 1950, making him one of three African-Americans to integrate the NBA beginning that year. By virtue of the schedules, he was the first of the three to play.

The team played in towns where racial segregation in public restaurants prevented him from eating with his teammates.

Mr. Lloyd, a quiet hero, didn’t get bitter. He got better.

He helped the Syracuse Nationals win the 1955 NBA title, joining teammate Jim Tucker as the first African-American players to play on a championship team. He later became the first African-American assistant coach with the Detroit Pistons in 1968, and became the Pistons’ head coach in 1971.

Today, 76 percent of all NBA players are African-American, according to 2013 stats. And 43 percent of all head coaches in the NBA are African-American.

It’s because of people like Earl Lloyd — the steady workers — that progress is made. We are surrounded by quiet heroes — parents, grandparents, cousins, aunts and uncles — who have a story to tell. Their lives lived steadily and quietly have forged inroads so others who come after can benefit.

Another quiet hero: Katherine Johnson of Hampton, a 1937 alumna of West Virginia State.

Now 96, Mrs. Johnson was a research mathematician and scientist at NASA’s Langley Research Center who calculated trajectories for America’s first space flight with Alan B. Shepard in May 1961. Her work, done during an era before computers, helped put the first man on the moon in July 1969.

She started with NASA’s forerunner in 1953, when there were few women and even fewer African-Americans. She worked in a pool of mathematicians who were segregated by race and gender. Her 33 years with NASA, which began before the Mercury project and ended with the initial phase of the space shuttle, opened the doors for others.

Because of Mr. Lloyd and Mrs. Johnson, we enjoy progress today on numerous fronts.

So how do we honor them?

By striving for excellence in our own work and lives. By holding the course when the road gets rough. By learning and understanding our history. By encouraging people of all ages. By holding the ladder so others can climb, too. By not being a silent witness to injustice in any form. By understanding that a pure heart has no color and “friends” come in all shades. By opening the doors of opportunity wide, so others can go through for years to come.

Rest in peace, Earl Lloyd.