TRULY THE GREAEST OF ALL TIME

I decided to write this article after I was asked over the weekend by a close friend why Ali was seen as such a great person.  While this person is a few years younger than I am, I was surprised that he had no idea of the impact Ali had on our country and his contributions to civil and religious rights.  While Ali was a great fighter, this article is not about his skills as a boxer, but how I came to respect and admire someone whom I’ve always considered a great humanitarian, and example of strength and class.

When Cassius Clay Beat Sonny Liston for the heavyweight title in February 1964, I was ten years old.  In those day’s fights weren’t on TV, you had to listen to them on the radio and wait for a couple of weeks for them to be shown on Wide World of Sports.  I remember the fight well because my mother was a huge Liston fan, and at ten, although I could be a bit shy, I was starting to develop a bit of a fast mouth myself.  When Cassius Clay came on the scene with his sense of self-confidence, bold predictions and total sense of self awareness, it helped me to better understand who I was and to some degree know what kind of person I wanted to be.  When I started talking about Clay winning the fight most people in the neighborhood dismissed me as a ten-year-old kid who just didn’t know any better.  My mother, to teach me a lesson, even bet me a dollar that Liston would win the fight.  When the fight was over and Clay had won, they all said that both he and I were lucky, but somehow I knew that wasn’t true.  Fact is that I was very happy to earn that dollar, but more important to me was the fact that I was actually right about something, and that he hadn’t let me down by losing to Liston.

Later that year when Clay decided to give up what he called his “Slave Name” and change his name to Muhammed Ali, many in America (including some blacks) got in line to criticize his decision.  I was still too young to understand what it meant to convert to another religion, and besides, if you had a black face in New Jersey in the 1960’s, there was about a 90% chance that you were a Baptist.  What I knew for sure was that no matter his name, Ali was someone that I loved to hear speak and tell people how great he was.  This was a man who spoke with such confidence and he never backed down, and that’s who I wanted to be.  I wanted to be that person who said whatever came to mind with eloquence, the person who when he spoke people listened, the person who stood up for those who couldn’t stand for themselves.  It didn’t matter if people agreed or not, it was just important to have a voice, to inspire people and force them to think about what was going on in the world around them.

In 1966 when Ali refused to be drafted into the military and was eventually stripped of his title, I was pretty disappointed and really didn’t understand what had happened.  Most around me felt that Ali should swallow his pride, forget about his less than main stream religion and serve.  Many said that after all, he would probably be treated in the same way as the Army treated Elvis and they would allow him to serve his time putting on exhibitions.  Unfortunately, given that Ali had already stuck his thumb in the eye of the White Establishment, there wasn’t really much chance of that happening and he would almost certainly wound up in the Vietnam jungle.   Despite his refusal to serve, I was still able to learn from his example.  What you ask?  I learned that every person must have the internal fortitude to stand his ground when he or she is right.  I learned that while money and fame are important, they are no substitute for dignity and standing on principal, and finally, I learned that you should never want anything so much that you sacrifice who you are.  You see, Ali was a fighter, but he was no bully, and he refused to allow the most powerful force on earth at that time to bully him into doing something that his conscience told him was wrong and that’s a lesson everyone should take note of.

When I was around 15 or 16 years old, my parents loaded the whole family in the car and took us to my mother’s birth place in Thomaston, GA to visit family.  I think the year was 1968.  Georgia was a total culture shock for me.  In NJ, I had white, Cuban and Jewish friends but in GA, everyone knew his/her place.  My cousins lived on the “Black side of town” where all of their friends looked like them.  They were not even able to use the front door of restaurants.  I have never been able to forget the day that my brother, cousins and I went to the local diner to get hamburgers.  My cousins insisted that we had to go to the back door to order and wait outside while it was prepared.  When I explained to them that it was our right to go in the front door, and that I wasn’t waiting outside to be served, I thought they would both crap in their pants.  Despite their protest, I decided that it was a good idea to go to the front door.  When I tried to order a burger, I was told that Negros had to go around back to order, and thus I was refused service.  The State Police were called and I was promptly put in the back of a squad car.  I was driven back to my aunt’s house where they proceeded to tell my parents that they might want to get me back to New Jersey sooner rather than later, before I got myself into real trouble.  The next morning we left for home and the entire way I kept thinking that like Ali, I had stood my ground and did what I knew to be right.   Going into that diner probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but I really felt good about what I had done that day.   The next time that I set foot in Georgia again was in 1983 but only because I was passing through the Atlanta airport.   I know that today’s Georgia isn’t 1968’s Georgia, and I have traveled there on several occasions in the last few years without incident.  Georgia is a beautiful state with many beautiful people and I chalk my experience up to the era in which I was born.

In August of 1972, I joined the US Army, something that I knew at the time Ali would have never done, but I saw the military as a means to an end for me.  You see, although I really liked and respected Ali, my parent’s teachings had a greater effect on my view of America than any that Ali could have ever had.  I served this country because I was taught to love it and to believe that most of the people in our country are good people who would give me a fair shake if given the opportunity.   I was taught that I could succeed and be anything that I wanted to be so I have always believed in the promise of America.  Knowing all that I do about our great country, when I look at the current political climate in America, I also realize that what Ali said about America in the 60’s and 70’s is still true to some degree today. 

I saw a Facebook post today where someone showed the photo of a Marine next to a photo of Ali.  Under the Marine’s photo was the word Hero, and under Ali’s were the words Great Boxer followed by the caption “Not the Same Thing”.  I find it sad that I live in a country where only two percent serve in the military yet many of those who don’t even think of serving, somehow think that they know what a real hero is.  There is no way that this country could have achieved its greatness without the sacrifice and dedication of countless people like Mohammed Ali.  You see, the word hero means different things to different people.  Ali fought for most of his life to make this country great, and despite the fact that he didn’t serve in the military, he’s still an American hero to me and many like me.  We live in a country where people plan to vote for a person who requested and was granted five draft deferments during the Vietnam War.  This person goes on racist rants and generally demonstrates no class, and yet many of his supporters condemn a man who gave up countless riches because of his religion.  A person who served humanity most of his life trying to make our country and our world a better place.  The average American doesn’t know that this man dedicated his life to fighting in the ring, He spent many decades fighting for what was right, he fought to make America great, not just for Black people, but for all people. 

Mohammed Ali was not just a great fighter, he was a great American, and an American hero who stood on principal.  We could absolutely use more Americans in public life who stand on principal.

RIP Champ!!!

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