By Gloria Dulan-Wilson
I've said this again and again, and apparently the ersatz Mayor Bloomberg did not get the message: Do not piss off (or on) NEW YORKERS!
We're a pretty tolerant bunch as it goes. True, we're a mishmosh of people and cultures from all over the world, dedicated to the proposition of living the "good life" in good ole New York City. We got more accents than Carter's got Liver Pills, but we understand each other, and manage to communicate with and interact with and work with each other on a daily basis.
We have more than our share of haves and have nots amongst us; we may be somewhat envious of the "haves", but we "have nots" have managed to live side by side with them in peaceful coexistence. The line of demarcation between us and them is pretty thin. In other words, try as they might, there is no true gated society in New York City. We walk where we please, play where we please. And though we may not have had the monumentally successful financial benefits of Wall Street, we can and do go there and hang in the vicinity on a regular basis. So Zucotti Park is no sacred ground to us. It's part of New York and so are we!!
What's not a part of New York is the gestapo like police department that has been assembled by Mayor Bloomberg and Ray Kelly to oppress righteous New Yorkers who are fed up with Wall Street and that oversize Sacred Cow they have erected in the middle of Broad Street to symbolize their bullishness. It is now bullshit - and has been since Bush, Bloomberg, Madoff (who made off with billions of our dollars), and those members of the Bush Administration - the worst administration ever in the US (even the pre-depression era administration wasn't this bad), have tried to make us think that their money is more important than the lives and well being of WE, THE PEOPLE.
It was WE, THE PEOPLE, who Occupied Wall Street, not some dangerous subversives. WE, THE PEOPLE, finally got fed up with the banks and their bogus bail outs; lenders who try to hold us to a standard of FICO scores, and CREDIT RATINGS, while both their credit and credibility have been in the sewer for at least the last three+ years.
WE, THE PEOPLE are denied access to funds, denied decent housing, are set out on the streets, while the real estate industry, the brainchild of this triumvirate, continues to grind and grind and ever more escalate prices and costs right under our very noses.
As in the old movie "NETWORK", WE THE PEOPLE ARE MAD AS HELL AND AREN'T GOING TO TAKE IT ANY MORE. Short of throwing our TV sets out of the windows, under the threat of even more ignominious behavior from the so called financial powers that be, they determined that it was time to become visible, and to put some faces with the emails. Wall Street was continuing to profit from their misery, so perhaps, if they could see that there were actually real human beings at the bottom lines of those stats, maybe, just maybe, they could sit down together and revamp the way things are done, so they are more inclusive and considerate of the humans who really are the driving force of this economy.
So to the park they went. Perhaps it was originally just a march, a peaceful protest with the hopes that within a few days they would have things resolved, and everything would be back to normal. However, as we all know, that is not what happened. Instead, Mayor Bloomberg, who I have always maintained really hates New York - if he didn't he would not have lied to the citizens, would not have broken his word in reference to term limits, and would not have thrown up those ridiculous barriers in the middle of the street to stop New Yorker's flow -- gets on TV and his first response is that this is "not good for tourism."
President Obama, who has long been an advocate of government of, by, and for WE THE PEOPLE, has early on endorsed the demonstrations. If people don't stand up and make themselves visible to the meanstream press, they just keep grinding out the same old swill. It was WE THE PEOPLE who saw the value and the humanity in his approach and concern for an America that works for everybody. The fat cats, the lobbyists, and certain elected officials and their financial backers have had it too good for long, and don't want to see the Obama Principles applied in the US, especially not in their cash cow Wall Street. They have been systematically pushing New Yorkers out of their homes and jobs for decades (since 9/11). They certainly did not expect New Yorkers to push back.
Well, here we are! While we learned a thing or two from Wisconsin, we were wrestling with some home grown problems, like a mayor who openly flaunts the fact that he really does not care what New Yorkers want, unless they make more money than he does. He will fire teachers, he will change transit routes and costs; he will block programs, he will sit on funds until he gets his way. And he will callously say, through is actions: I got more money than you and I'm not afraid to use it (against you).
Now what mayor in his right mind, or heart, puts tourists before his constituents?? It took two or three days for his advisors to get him to come out with a more conciliatory tone and say they could occupy the park as long as they were peaceful. Really!
In the meantime, I knew, as did everyone else who was fluent in Bloomology, that he was fishing around for an out, for a way to undermine and thwart what the demonstrators were doing. And as OWS type demonstrations cropped up throughout the US, he became more and more determined to get them out. How dare New Yorkers defy him! How dare they challenge the worst thing to happen to New York City since Robert Moses tried to mow us down and riddle us with highways to no where? How many neighborhoods were ground into the dust under the onslaught of Moses? How many of those crass, glass Bloomberg towers are standing where real communities used to exist? - most of them, by the way, over priced and half empty,and won't last nearly as long as the original architecture they replaced. They stand as monuments to greed and disdain for the everyday working New Yorker, and a mockery to good architectural practice (by the way, what's up with the Landmark Commission, are they paying attention to any of this?)
He is the mayor who literally bragged, while the rest of us were coming up empty in our bank accounts, and were losing jobs right and left - to have started with $5 billion dollars as mayor and now have more than $20 billion (or some ridiculous figure). And we all queried then, how did that happen? How did he make so much money while we, who may even be working two or three jobs to make ends meet, are barely going home with enough to cover our overinflated, chopped up, substandard, rental apartments, or our highly mortgaged homes?
Now mind you, I love money and comfort as much as Bloomberg, and those Wall Streeters who have gotten away with big undeserved bonuses. I think it's wonderful to wake up knowing that you have a ton of money in the bank and everything is hunkey-dorey! Wow -give me that! But if I am walking on the backs of people who have lost their homes, their livelihoods, and in some cases their health, to make it happen, then what the hell am I? A Vampire, a blood sucker, Dracula's little sister!! Maybe that's why those TV series about Vampires are so popular. Maybe that's why they try to build their characters so thoroughly; so that the public will have sympathy and acceptance for the very real vampires that are in the government now. They are full of them in the Republican party, and Wall Street likewise has more than its share. If you are worshipping them, it's less likely you're going to go against them when they are trying to undermine you. You can't see the reality for the fantasy.
But digress: Had Wall Street simply resolved to return 40% of its illgotten gains back into the New York Community via community based organizations (don't give it to the Bloombergers, we may never see it), people would have taken a less dim view of their actions. Had they worked out a way for people to have truly affordable homes, in this maisma of foreclosures; we would have at least thought they had a heart.
But, predictably, Bloomberg kept searching until he found a judge he could buy, and then through a carefully scripted scenario, had him decree the OWS could stay in the park, but could have no comforts. With that the panzer movement was on, and with gestapo like precision that would make any German occupation look like amateur hour (and make Hitler very proud indeed), our New York's Finest became New York's most despicable. They moved in on unarmed, American Citizens - New Yorkers, WE THE PEOPLE! And then tried to do it under the cover of darkness. And tried to keep the media from witnessing their guilt - from showing that they had degenerated into something that no longer "serves and protects", but those who attacks and ejects, and apparently, rather liked what they were doing!
The meanstream Post (owned by Murdock, one of Bloomberg's cronies) called WE THE PEOPLE "bums" - so I do wonder why New Yorkers are even continuing to purchase a paper that looks down on US in such a hostile manner. The Daily News was more sympathetic; the New York Times was fairly objective. But the world, having witnessed this debacle from New York, one of the most liberal cities in the US, was shocked and dismayed.
As for we New Yorkers, WE THE PEOPLE, and those who have and continue to OCCUPY WALL STREET, as well as those who have set up encampments in their own cities to return the government into the hands of the people, quite frankly, we're P.O'd, and are even more determined to return our local and national governments to the people, not some bureaucratic, megalomaniac who thinks his "s-t" don't stink; not some one who thinks money is more important than people.
A friend of mine recently sent me this link to a YouTube broadcast of Keith Olbermann's Special Comment On Michael Bloomberg, that even further emphasises where I am coming from. The link in below. Check it out for yourselves. Mr. Olbermann no doubt expresses what many have been saying under their breaths for quite some time -so you may want to play it several times to get your angst out. Then, after that, it's time to get down to the real serious business of making sure that New York City never again has the kind of martinet, or megalomaniacal, or off kilter leadership (and I use the word advisedly, because what we've really had is a lack of real leaders), ever again.
CHECK OUT THE LINK. IF IT DOES NOT OPEN UP, PASTE IT IN YOUR BROWSER, OR JUST GO TO YOUTUBE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1iNmMPVP49I&feature=share
There is nothing more compelling than an Idea that has reached it's primacy. And the idea is that there is nothing, and no one, too big to fail; nothing bigger thanWE, THE PEOPLE, and WE THE PEOPLE COME FIRST, THINGS COME SECOND.
With that said, we are also saying: Watch Out Bloomie, New Yorkers are really mad as hell and aren't taking it any more. New York City belongs to US, not you and your cronies. You don't have enough dollars to buy all the judges, or buy off all of we the people - oh, wait a minute, maybe you do. There are 8 million people in New York City; you've got how much now - $16 billion? Hmmmmmm???? Nah! Not enough.
Oh, well, as Olbermann says in his clip, keep on being the overbearing martinet you are, because it only fuels our resolve even more - and those clones you have in other states as well will learn the hard lesson that WE, THE PEOPLE, really do stand for each other together, and we're taking New York City back.
This is not a threat it's a PROMISE!!
To all my fellow New Yorkers
STAY BLESSED &
HAVE A GREAT THANKSGIVING
WE'VE GOT A LOT TO DO
Gloria Dulan-Wilson
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Thursday, November 17, 2011
DON'T LOSE YOUR HOME: NACA IS IN NYC AND NEW JERSEY FOR 5 DAYS NOV. 17 THROUGH 21
By Gloria Dulan-Wilson
If this seems to be coming at the last minute, it is. But it can't be helped, because that's when I got this information and I'm dispatching it out to you as quickly and efficiently as I can.
For those of you who still have overly high mortgages, whose property values are under water, who are facing foreclosure even as we speak and are thinking about walking away, or filing bankruptcy, help is not only on the way it is here: NACA IS IN NEW YORK CITY NOVEMBER 17 THROUGH 21 AT 7 EAST 34TH STREET on the llth floor.
Those of you who missed out on their marathon home save back in December of 2009, and still need help, don't miss this; those of you who have been lead a merry chase by the lenders, investors, bankers, loan sharks and other charlatans of the real estate gotcha game, get your paperwork together and get over there.
Not only is this epochmaking, but, Bruce Marks, founder and CEO of NACA decided that it might be too difficult for New Yorkers to make it to the Home Save in Edison, New Jersey, at the Edison Convention Center (which also kicks off on the 17th). He wanted the Apple to be able to take full advantage of the program, and the opportunity to save their homes, so he and his staff moved "heaven and earth" practically to find a centralized location, close to transportation, easily reached, regardless of which borough or community you come from.
So this has been put together specifically and especially for New Yorkers - don't miss out and wait until the last minute, like so many did in 2009. You can walk in at any time between 8:00AM to 8;00PM - bring all your doc, including pay stubs, W-2's, loan docs, communication with the lender, if any.
Past recipients have received reductions of between $200 and $1500 in monthly payments, and interest rates reduced to as low as 2%. Bankers will be there to make instant decisions; and your mortgage will be RESTRUCTURED, as opposed to just a temporary "modification."
If this does not apply to or interest you, please pass it on to someone who needs it - don't sit on it - we are the village, we have to keep each other informed, updated, and safe. And what better way than to make sure than none of us lose our homes, and maintain the integrity of our communities.
Per Bruce Marks, "I'm a New Yorker, and it's important to me that my fellow New Yorkers have affordable, decent homes to live in."
NACA is HUD certified, and in the past three years have saved over two hundred fifty thousand homes (250,000+), nationally.
If you need additional info, check out www.naca.com.
Stay Blessed &
ECLECTICALLY BLACK
Gloria Dulan-Wilson
If this seems to be coming at the last minute, it is. But it can't be helped, because that's when I got this information and I'm dispatching it out to you as quickly and efficiently as I can.
For those of you who still have overly high mortgages, whose property values are under water, who are facing foreclosure even as we speak and are thinking about walking away, or filing bankruptcy, help is not only on the way it is here: NACA IS IN NEW YORK CITY NOVEMBER 17 THROUGH 21 AT 7 EAST 34TH STREET on the llth floor.
Those of you who missed out on their marathon home save back in December of 2009, and still need help, don't miss this; those of you who have been lead a merry chase by the lenders, investors, bankers, loan sharks and other charlatans of the real estate gotcha game, get your paperwork together and get over there.
Not only is this epochmaking, but, Bruce Marks, founder and CEO of NACA decided that it might be too difficult for New Yorkers to make it to the Home Save in Edison, New Jersey, at the Edison Convention Center (which also kicks off on the 17th). He wanted the Apple to be able to take full advantage of the program, and the opportunity to save their homes, so he and his staff moved "heaven and earth" practically to find a centralized location, close to transportation, easily reached, regardless of which borough or community you come from.
So this has been put together specifically and especially for New Yorkers - don't miss out and wait until the last minute, like so many did in 2009. You can walk in at any time between 8:00AM to 8;00PM - bring all your doc, including pay stubs, W-2's, loan docs, communication with the lender, if any.
Past recipients have received reductions of between $200 and $1500 in monthly payments, and interest rates reduced to as low as 2%. Bankers will be there to make instant decisions; and your mortgage will be RESTRUCTURED, as opposed to just a temporary "modification."
If this does not apply to or interest you, please pass it on to someone who needs it - don't sit on it - we are the village, we have to keep each other informed, updated, and safe. And what better way than to make sure than none of us lose our homes, and maintain the integrity of our communities.
Per Bruce Marks, "I'm a New Yorker, and it's important to me that my fellow New Yorkers have affordable, decent homes to live in."
NACA is HUD certified, and in the past three years have saved over two hundred fifty thousand homes (250,000+), nationally.
If you need additional info, check out www.naca.com.
Stay Blessed &
ECLECTICALLY BLACK
Gloria Dulan-Wilson
Friday, November 11, 2011
Love and God and Redemption: A Love Story
by Gloria Dulan-Wilson
I just had the most remarkable conversation with a childhood friend. He's someone I have not seen since I graduated from high school and went on to college. I'll call him "The Kid"(I must admit that I had some not very complimentary names for him when we were teens - then he was the Brat, the Pain, you know the drift when you have a younger brother or sister and you're trying to be "cool").
His sister was my very best friend from the fifth grade through high school; however she also is someone I had not seen since graduating (I'll call her "Sis"). We used to practice the latest dances in her mom's living room; listen to all the latest records, and learn ALL the lyrics; scout boyfriends; swap gossip, participate in social events -- NAACP Youth Council, Fidi Amici Clubs, Y-Teens and other organizations. She used to cut through our yard to get to the Black owned mom and pop store that was then across the alley in the other block. She was the last one my mom would send home after we had completely exhausted every topic we could think of. She was my best friend.
Our little close knit community in Oklahoma City makes it impossible not to know each and every little secret, or scandal, that goes on; so I was peripherally aware that both The Kid and Sis had undergone some serious drug addiction challenges in their adult lives; especially after their mother, whom I affectionately called "Momma P", had passed. She was the guiding light of the family, and as special to me as she was to them.
Like most Black Oklahomans, we were Black and Indian (Cherokee). "Momma P", and the family had deep roots in a little town called Claremore, Oklahoma. Her father was first cousin on her mother's side to the great Goodwill Ambassador, Will Rogers, whose mother was Cherokee as well. I had the privilege, when I was a kid, of visiting her family on brief trips to take gifts to their maternal grandfather, Poppa Bill (who lived to be 101).
However, as adults, those ties of youth appeared to be broken forever. It was at least 17 years before I even returned home to Oklahoma City. It really was cost prohibitive, and cost nearly $1000 to fly from NYC to OKC, while I could go to the Caribbean for less than $200 - and that included hotel accommodations! So,needless to say, during that time I had traveled a great deal in and out of the country.
Over the next 20 years or so, I had been in and out of love/marriage twice; had three children, a couple of "failed" careers, and was returning to New York City forever, after a mutual agreement with the state of California that we would not bother each other any more. They could stay on the west side, and I was (and am) perfectly content to stay on the East Coast - New York City, more specifically.
I had by that time missed several high school reunions, and was not totally apprised of how dire things were with my two friends, who used to live in one of the most beautiful, custom designed homes directly across the street from me. (I mention the home because "Momma P" designed it and had it built when we were still babies. It was a gorgeous split level home with a huge living room, master quarters, children quarters, swimming pool, guest house - the works! Unique and way ahead of most designs of the day. I went to many a party there!)
But fast forward 40 years, and at our Douglass Senior High School reunion, I learn that things are truly not well with them. The Kid was in California, after having several near brushes with death; and my former best friend, "Sis", who has not been seen or heard from at all, was actually somewhere here in New York City!
But where? No one seemed to know! My classmates implored me to find her, and I pledged to do so; but haven't a clue as to where or how to start.
In the interim, we elect Barack Obama president of the USA; and like the rest of the world, I was going through the repercussions of a miscreant's (Bush) taking the economy down the toilet, literally. So my focus turns away from the search for "Sis", to the more mundane, and oh so important issues of money, food, job, place to live, health, etc. I.e. I had to go into survival mode big time, and searching for long lost friends had to wait in line behind searching for just a basic job.
But here we are now in November 2011, and I though I'm still trying to get that elusive job, I suddenly remember that my friend's birthday happens to fall on 11/11/11!! So, I again began to wonder where she is, and whether she's celebrating this awesomely unique occasion. So I put a call through to OKC to the only relative I still have communication with, her sister-in-law, "T", who was married to her elder brother (he was 20 years older than we were). She's 81 now and is just as energetic and actively involved as she was when we were kids (Aries - you just can't keep us down, you know). She stated that had not heard from my friend, but she had some startling news for me, which is why I'm writing this piece in the first place:
"The Kid" had moved back to Oklahoma City from California, and - wonder of wonders - had gotten married!
Of, course, I couldn't believe my ears, and had to have "T" repeat that a couple of times.
Me: "Wow! What happened? How did that happen? The last time we spoke, he was so glad to hear from me he cried. But he sounded like he was really not very well. What brought about the turn around?" I was totally incredulous.
T: "I'll give you his number and let him tell you himself. All I know is that this young lady went to California to see about him. They got married out there and she brought him back to Oklahoma City."
After obtaining the number, I couldn't wait to call "The Kid" and see what the story was. Mind you, not having seen him since I was a kid, and not knowing his new wife, I hesitated for a moment. This could be an imposition. What if he doesn't want to hear from me? What if she's "hostile"? Nah! This is Oklahoma City. We have a permanent open door policy for family and friends. So it is a little late, it's 11:00PM, New York Time, 10:00 Central Standard Time. But I place the call, anyway. Of course, on first try, there was no answer. So, being the New Yorker that I am, I try again. And this time I meet with success.
Me: "Hey Kid!"
The Kid: "Hi, who's this!"
Me: "It's Gloria Dulan-Wilson!"
The Kid: "Wow! Gloria! How are you? Man it's good to hear from you! Where are you, in New York?"
Me: "Yep! Still here. Just spoke with "T" and heard you had a wedding and congratulations are in order."
The Kid: "No. Didn't have a wedding. I just got married last year, that's all!"
Me: "Nevertheless, congratulations are in order! Wow! That's fantastic!"
The Kid: "You know, Gloria, it's even more fantastic because my wife is a wonderful person. Not just because she married me, but because she cared about me enough to come see about me when I was at my lowest."
Me: "Really?"
The Rest of This is The Kid:
"I was a basket case. I was in a nursing home. I had had two operations because of problems with my spine. They had had to go in and refuse my spine from both the back and the front. I died on the operating table twice! The first time for 31 seconds, the second time for 41 seconds. And both times God kept bringing me back. When they finished the surgery, they put me in a nursing home for 10 months.
"I had reached out to a friend of mine that I had grown up with in Oklahoma City, and was kind of telling him what I had been through. While I was talking, his sister overheard the conversation. She got on the phone and said she was sorry to hear that I had gone through so much, and that she would come out to see about me. So, I said, thanks for the concern.
"In the back of my head I was thinking, "yea right" she's just being sympathetic and polite. The next thing I knew, she was in California. The next thing was that she spent time boosting my morale. I couldn't belive it! Then she checked me out of the home. We got married and she brought me back to Oklahoma City. Now things have been wonderful between us. We don't have a lot of money, but I have someone in my life who loves and cares for me, and that has made all the difference for me. I don't know where I would be had she not cared for me.
"But what was even more important was how God just kept showing up in my life and bringing me back when I thought I was gone forever. When I thought there was no hope whatsoever. He not only brought me back, but he brought me love. I don't know how to tell you how special that is.
"I have been invited by local groups to talk about the evils of doing drugs, and what a long journey it is back to health. And I'm glad to do it. I've also decided to go back to college and finish my degree. I know that God has something for me to do, which is why I am still here, so I'm going to be about doing it. I'm just following His lead now.
As for "Sis", she's in New York. I'll give you her number. I had thought it was her calling when I saw the area code. She will be so glad to hear from you."
I had really wanted to speak with this wonderful sister, but she had already gone to bed. When you hear of a story like this, you kind of want to reach out and touch the person and have some of that miracle rub off on you. It was like watching a beautiful movie unfold. I could see the script for this one right now. And I'm such a romanticist when it comes to love stories for and about us. (We get a lot of the low life crap, you know where all they know how to do is show cleavage and knock boots. That's not love, that's just sex.)
No, this is for Black people who know and believe that we can, and do, still really have love, affection, respect, caring and tenderness for each other (despite what the world tries to do to undermine it). This is about God, love, redemption, transformation, happiness and fulfillment! And this has the makings of a true monumental, inspirational, tear jerker - at least six Kleenex - perhaps the whole box!! (Calling Tyler Perry!)
Truly, though, I was totally blown away by "The Kid's" wonderful story and had to take the time to relate it here in my blog. For those of us who believe in miracles - and I'm one of them - this is truly a monumental one! What an absolute blessing! And how really wonderful to be able to share this with you, rather than the run of statistics we usually regale each other with about how bad things are, how dire things are, who shot who, who hates who, who hit who, etc.
This is the kind of "happily ever after" I'm talking about. And "The Kid" is already paying it forward by talking to youth, adults and peers about the horrors of drugs and how they can take a chunk of living out of your life. He could be called one of the "lucky" ones. But I prefer to call him "blessed" because The Infinite, God The Living Spirit Almighty, really did reach in and pull him through to give him a fresh start and a greater understanding of Who really is in charge.
I told him to stop by and say hello to my mother, who will be so happy to see him. We still live in our same home, directly across the street from where he grew up. He was happy to learn that my mom, 88 years young, was still living, and promised to pop in on her soon.
Joel Osteen said, in one of his many inspirational sermons, when we think things are totally over, and the problems are insurmountable, when we are going around beating ourselves up over things we could, would, or should have done; or when we and the rest of the world thinks we're not worthy, God is a God of "Suddenlies," and he can (and did) suddenly turn things around and put you up on top. It's not how big our challenges or problems are, it's how big our God Is. My friend, "The Kid" has suddenly been blessed and his life has been transformed.
I'm saying this to all of us. My friend, PR Diva, Terrie Williams, wrote a book entitled "BLACK PAIN", that details how we look great on the outside, while we're dying on the inside, and some of the things we do to mask that very real angst. We think we're enduring, coping, handling it. But what we're really doing is allowing it to eat us up alive. For those of us who really do need a message of hope, of promises fulfilled, of really staying in faith - I am sharing this with you. It is definitely never too late, and things can, and do, and have turned around on a dime.
So, get your faith up, and stand for the fact that we all are deserving of God's great good, love, redemption, happiness, abundance, health and joy in our lives###
PS SOME NEWS: I am currently a part time rental agent at ALOTTA APTS in Brooklyn, if you either want to list or rent an apartment, or know someone who does, email me at nynjaalady@yahoo.com. See my listings on CraigsList.
PPS: If you're facing Foreclosure or are behind in your mortgage, NACA is holding an exclusive 5 day nonstop workshop in New York City, beginning November 17, 2011 and running through November 21, 2011. It's free and open to the public. I will be posting the information on my next Blog, or you can log on to www.naca.com, and get the details there. Tell them you heard it from Gloria Dulan-Wilson
Stay blessed &
ECLECTICALLY BLACK
Gloria Dulan-Wilson
I just had the most remarkable conversation with a childhood friend. He's someone I have not seen since I graduated from high school and went on to college. I'll call him "The Kid"(I must admit that I had some not very complimentary names for him when we were teens - then he was the Brat, the Pain, you know the drift when you have a younger brother or sister and you're trying to be "cool").
His sister was my very best friend from the fifth grade through high school; however she also is someone I had not seen since graduating (I'll call her "Sis"). We used to practice the latest dances in her mom's living room; listen to all the latest records, and learn ALL the lyrics; scout boyfriends; swap gossip, participate in social events -- NAACP Youth Council, Fidi Amici Clubs, Y-Teens and other organizations. She used to cut through our yard to get to the Black owned mom and pop store that was then across the alley in the other block. She was the last one my mom would send home after we had completely exhausted every topic we could think of. She was my best friend.
Our little close knit community in Oklahoma City makes it impossible not to know each and every little secret, or scandal, that goes on; so I was peripherally aware that both The Kid and Sis had undergone some serious drug addiction challenges in their adult lives; especially after their mother, whom I affectionately called "Momma P", had passed. She was the guiding light of the family, and as special to me as she was to them.
Like most Black Oklahomans, we were Black and Indian (Cherokee). "Momma P", and the family had deep roots in a little town called Claremore, Oklahoma. Her father was first cousin on her mother's side to the great Goodwill Ambassador, Will Rogers, whose mother was Cherokee as well. I had the privilege, when I was a kid, of visiting her family on brief trips to take gifts to their maternal grandfather, Poppa Bill (who lived to be 101).
However, as adults, those ties of youth appeared to be broken forever. It was at least 17 years before I even returned home to Oklahoma City. It really was cost prohibitive, and cost nearly $1000 to fly from NYC to OKC, while I could go to the Caribbean for less than $200 - and that included hotel accommodations! So,needless to say, during that time I had traveled a great deal in and out of the country.
Over the next 20 years or so, I had been in and out of love/marriage twice; had three children, a couple of "failed" careers, and was returning to New York City forever, after a mutual agreement with the state of California that we would not bother each other any more. They could stay on the west side, and I was (and am) perfectly content to stay on the East Coast - New York City, more specifically.
I had by that time missed several high school reunions, and was not totally apprised of how dire things were with my two friends, who used to live in one of the most beautiful, custom designed homes directly across the street from me. (I mention the home because "Momma P" designed it and had it built when we were still babies. It was a gorgeous split level home with a huge living room, master quarters, children quarters, swimming pool, guest house - the works! Unique and way ahead of most designs of the day. I went to many a party there!)
But fast forward 40 years, and at our Douglass Senior High School reunion, I learn that things are truly not well with them. The Kid was in California, after having several near brushes with death; and my former best friend, "Sis", who has not been seen or heard from at all, was actually somewhere here in New York City!
But where? No one seemed to know! My classmates implored me to find her, and I pledged to do so; but haven't a clue as to where or how to start.
In the interim, we elect Barack Obama president of the USA; and like the rest of the world, I was going through the repercussions of a miscreant's (Bush) taking the economy down the toilet, literally. So my focus turns away from the search for "Sis", to the more mundane, and oh so important issues of money, food, job, place to live, health, etc. I.e. I had to go into survival mode big time, and searching for long lost friends had to wait in line behind searching for just a basic job.
But here we are now in November 2011, and I though I'm still trying to get that elusive job, I suddenly remember that my friend's birthday happens to fall on 11/11/11!! So, I again began to wonder where she is, and whether she's celebrating this awesomely unique occasion. So I put a call through to OKC to the only relative I still have communication with, her sister-in-law, "T", who was married to her elder brother (he was 20 years older than we were). She's 81 now and is just as energetic and actively involved as she was when we were kids (Aries - you just can't keep us down, you know). She stated that had not heard from my friend, but she had some startling news for me, which is why I'm writing this piece in the first place:
"The Kid" had moved back to Oklahoma City from California, and - wonder of wonders - had gotten married!
Of, course, I couldn't believe my ears, and had to have "T" repeat that a couple of times.
Me: "Wow! What happened? How did that happen? The last time we spoke, he was so glad to hear from me he cried. But he sounded like he was really not very well. What brought about the turn around?" I was totally incredulous.
T: "I'll give you his number and let him tell you himself. All I know is that this young lady went to California to see about him. They got married out there and she brought him back to Oklahoma City."
After obtaining the number, I couldn't wait to call "The Kid" and see what the story was. Mind you, not having seen him since I was a kid, and not knowing his new wife, I hesitated for a moment. This could be an imposition. What if he doesn't want to hear from me? What if she's "hostile"? Nah! This is Oklahoma City. We have a permanent open door policy for family and friends. So it is a little late, it's 11:00PM, New York Time, 10:00 Central Standard Time. But I place the call, anyway. Of course, on first try, there was no answer. So, being the New Yorker that I am, I try again. And this time I meet with success.
Me: "Hey Kid!"
The Kid: "Hi, who's this!"
Me: "It's Gloria Dulan-Wilson!"
The Kid: "Wow! Gloria! How are you? Man it's good to hear from you! Where are you, in New York?"
Me: "Yep! Still here. Just spoke with "T" and heard you had a wedding and congratulations are in order."
The Kid: "No. Didn't have a wedding. I just got married last year, that's all!"
Me: "Nevertheless, congratulations are in order! Wow! That's fantastic!"
The Kid: "You know, Gloria, it's even more fantastic because my wife is a wonderful person. Not just because she married me, but because she cared about me enough to come see about me when I was at my lowest."
Me: "Really?"
The Rest of This is The Kid:
"I was a basket case. I was in a nursing home. I had had two operations because of problems with my spine. They had had to go in and refuse my spine from both the back and the front. I died on the operating table twice! The first time for 31 seconds, the second time for 41 seconds. And both times God kept bringing me back. When they finished the surgery, they put me in a nursing home for 10 months.
"I had reached out to a friend of mine that I had grown up with in Oklahoma City, and was kind of telling him what I had been through. While I was talking, his sister overheard the conversation. She got on the phone and said she was sorry to hear that I had gone through so much, and that she would come out to see about me. So, I said, thanks for the concern.
"In the back of my head I was thinking, "yea right" she's just being sympathetic and polite. The next thing I knew, she was in California. The next thing was that she spent time boosting my morale. I couldn't belive it! Then she checked me out of the home. We got married and she brought me back to Oklahoma City. Now things have been wonderful between us. We don't have a lot of money, but I have someone in my life who loves and cares for me, and that has made all the difference for me. I don't know where I would be had she not cared for me.
"But what was even more important was how God just kept showing up in my life and bringing me back when I thought I was gone forever. When I thought there was no hope whatsoever. He not only brought me back, but he brought me love. I don't know how to tell you how special that is.
"I have been invited by local groups to talk about the evils of doing drugs, and what a long journey it is back to health. And I'm glad to do it. I've also decided to go back to college and finish my degree. I know that God has something for me to do, which is why I am still here, so I'm going to be about doing it. I'm just following His lead now.
As for "Sis", she's in New York. I'll give you her number. I had thought it was her calling when I saw the area code. She will be so glad to hear from you."
I had really wanted to speak with this wonderful sister, but she had already gone to bed. When you hear of a story like this, you kind of want to reach out and touch the person and have some of that miracle rub off on you. It was like watching a beautiful movie unfold. I could see the script for this one right now. And I'm such a romanticist when it comes to love stories for and about us. (We get a lot of the low life crap, you know where all they know how to do is show cleavage and knock boots. That's not love, that's just sex.)
No, this is for Black people who know and believe that we can, and do, still really have love, affection, respect, caring and tenderness for each other (despite what the world tries to do to undermine it). This is about God, love, redemption, transformation, happiness and fulfillment! And this has the makings of a true monumental, inspirational, tear jerker - at least six Kleenex - perhaps the whole box!! (Calling Tyler Perry!)
Truly, though, I was totally blown away by "The Kid's" wonderful story and had to take the time to relate it here in my blog. For those of us who believe in miracles - and I'm one of them - this is truly a monumental one! What an absolute blessing! And how really wonderful to be able to share this with you, rather than the run of statistics we usually regale each other with about how bad things are, how dire things are, who shot who, who hates who, who hit who, etc.
This is the kind of "happily ever after" I'm talking about. And "The Kid" is already paying it forward by talking to youth, adults and peers about the horrors of drugs and how they can take a chunk of living out of your life. He could be called one of the "lucky" ones. But I prefer to call him "blessed" because The Infinite, God The Living Spirit Almighty, really did reach in and pull him through to give him a fresh start and a greater understanding of Who really is in charge.
I told him to stop by and say hello to my mother, who will be so happy to see him. We still live in our same home, directly across the street from where he grew up. He was happy to learn that my mom, 88 years young, was still living, and promised to pop in on her soon.
Joel Osteen said, in one of his many inspirational sermons, when we think things are totally over, and the problems are insurmountable, when we are going around beating ourselves up over things we could, would, or should have done; or when we and the rest of the world thinks we're not worthy, God is a God of "Suddenlies," and he can (and did) suddenly turn things around and put you up on top. It's not how big our challenges or problems are, it's how big our God Is. My friend, "The Kid" has suddenly been blessed and his life has been transformed.
I'm saying this to all of us. My friend, PR Diva, Terrie Williams, wrote a book entitled "BLACK PAIN", that details how we look great on the outside, while we're dying on the inside, and some of the things we do to mask that very real angst. We think we're enduring, coping, handling it. But what we're really doing is allowing it to eat us up alive. For those of us who really do need a message of hope, of promises fulfilled, of really staying in faith - I am sharing this with you. It is definitely never too late, and things can, and do, and have turned around on a dime.
So, get your faith up, and stand for the fact that we all are deserving of God's great good, love, redemption, happiness, abundance, health and joy in our lives###
PS SOME NEWS: I am currently a part time rental agent at ALOTTA APTS in Brooklyn, if you either want to list or rent an apartment, or know someone who does, email me at nynjaalady@yahoo.com. See my listings on CraigsList.
PPS: If you're facing Foreclosure or are behind in your mortgage, NACA is holding an exclusive 5 day nonstop workshop in New York City, beginning November 17, 2011 and running through November 21, 2011. It's free and open to the public. I will be posting the information on my next Blog, or you can log on to www.naca.com, and get the details there. Tell them you heard it from Gloria Dulan-Wilson
Stay blessed &
ECLECTICALLY BLACK
Gloria Dulan-Wilson
Tuesday, November 8, 2011
Smokin' Joe Frazier Has Gone to that Great Boxing Ring In the Sky
By Gloria Dulan-Wilson
Wow! I just had such a sad, surreal moment, as the headlines flashed across my computer screen that former Heavyweight Boxing Champion, Smokin' Joe Frazier has died. I couldn't process it for a moment - it seemed so wrong on so many levels.
First of all, a friend of mine had just learned that Joe Frazier was a relative of hers (and that was yesterday, Sunday, November 6, folks!) Don't even know what brought up the subject or his name, unless somehow his spirit was reaching out to hers. I jokingly said she should look him up the next time she's in Philly.
This evening, I am now looking in retrospect at how many times Joe Frazier and I have crossed paths - literally and figuratively. He was not a friend or an idol of mine in any sense of the word, particularly since, back in the day, I was (and am) a die-heard Muhammad Ali fan and devotee -always will be. And Frazier was considered by many of us revolutionaries a "sell out" of sorts.
The City of Philadelphia had decided to embrace him as their native son, particularly after Cassius Clay became Muhammad Ali, and tried to get those of us who were working for the city, including yours truly, to take some publicity shots to show that we were all solidly behind him and against Ali. They paraded him through the then office of the Deputy City Manager, where I worked as a Career Advisor for Hard Core Unemployed African Americans. To their shock and dismay, we let it be known that we were Ali friends, and would neither be bought off or threatened for our stand. An embarrassing moment for Frazier, but, then we were newly minted militants, and would not deviate from our stance.
I was so stunned by the news that I called my best friend in Philly, Annie G, woke her up and told her the news. She was one of the militants, along with myself and a brother named Giles Wright, who felt it necessary to make it known that we were too"Black and Proud" to stand with Frazier Black in the day. It was slightly before midnight. She had already gone to bed and had not heard - stunned as I was, I needed to speak with someone who had been part of those early days.
The second time I met him was several years later after the Thrilla in Manilla - there was no political axe to grind then, just the fact that Ali had avenged his title was enough for me. I remember being polite but still somewhat distant. Just in case Ali or one of his fans was watching - I didn't want to send the wrong signal. Now, how silly was that? We did tend to take ourselves waaaaay to seriously back in the day, though, didn't we?
But the last two times I met the champ was in Harlem at what was then a favorite haunt of us in-crowd Blacks - PERKS on 123rd and Manhattan Ave. Those of us who were Perk's Regulars remember well the times Smokin' Joe would stop in and hang out. Perk had photos of him all over the place. Now retired, we could kick it and talk about the good old, bad old days, and the fact that boxing wasn't like it used to be.
He was energetic, friendly and a total gentleman. He always seemed to enjoy being around where people were enjoying life - and if you couldn't enjoy life at Perks, you might as well have just rolled the ground over on you and given up.
He and Hank Perkins the former owner and founder, used to mock fight and crack jokes. Meeting him under those circumstances, kind of secretly regretted taking such a harsh stance against him. He was down to earth and positive.
We spoke of Ali and his bout with Parkinson's disease; Don King and the white promoter's jealousy of his success, and a lot of other things. And of course, the brother could, and did dance.
The last time I saw him, on TV, was when he tried to get his son, Joe Frazier Jr., to follow in his footsteps in the ring. I remember thinking how sad it was, because it was clear that the kid couldn't take the punch his dad did, and wasn't really interested in pursuing a boxing career.
I guess over time, if you really look back in retrospect, everything balances out, doesn't it. Both Frazier and Ali have made great contributions to our histories. They were catalysts for other youth who were looking to get into the arena and make names for themselves.
The Bio On Joe Frazier that flashed across my computer appeared just a scant 21 minutes after his demise, which meant someone was aware of and anticipated his passing. I share it below for those of you who were not familiar with him:
"Joe Frazier Dies After Fight With Cancer
—He beat Muhammad Ali in the Fight of the Century, battled him nearly to the death in the Thrilla in Manila. Then Joe Frazier spent the rest of his life trying to fight his way out of Ali’s shadow.
That was one fight Frazier could never win.
He was once a heavyweight champion, and a great one at that. Ali would say as much after Frazier knocked him down in the 15th round en route to becoming the first man to beat Ali at Madison Square Garden in March 1971.
But he bore the burden of being Ali’s foil, and he paid the price. Bitter for years about the taunts his former nemesis once threw his way, Frazier only in recent times came to terms with what happened in the past and said he had forgiven Ali for everything he said.
Frazier, who died Monday night after a brief battle with liver cancer at the age of 67, will forever be linked to Ali. But no one in boxing would ever dream of anointing Ali as The Greatest unless he, too, was linked to Smokin’ Joe.
“You can’t mention Ali without mentioning Joe Frazier,” said former AP boxing writer Ed Schuyler Jr. “He beat Ali, don’t forget that.”
They fought three times, twice in the heart of New York City and once in the morning in a steamy arena in the Philippines. They went 41 rounds together, with neither giving an inch and both giving it their all.
In their last fight in Manila in 1975, they traded punches with a fervor that seemed unimaginable among heavyweights. Frazier gave almost as good as he got for 14 rounds, then had to be held back by trainer Eddie Futch as he tried to go out for the final round, unable to see.
“Closest thing to dying that I know of,” Ali said afterward.
Ali was as merciless with Frazier out of the ring as he was inside it. He called him a gorilla, and mocked him as an Uncle Tom. But he respected him as a fighter, especially after Frazier won a decision to defend his heavyweight title against the then-unbeaten Ali in a fight that was so big Frank Sinatra was shooting pictures at ringside and both fighters earned an astonishing $2.5 million.
The night at the Garden 40 years ago remained fresh in Frazier’s mind as he talked about his life, career and relationship with Ali a few months before he died.
“I can’t go nowhere where it’s not mentioned,” he told The Associated Press. “That was the greatest thing that ever happened in my life.”
Though slowed in his later years and his speech slurred by the toll of punches taken in the ring, Frazier was still active on the autograph circuit in the months before he died. In September he went to Las Vegas, where he signed autographs in the lobby of the MGM Grand hotel-casino shortly before Floyd Mayweather Jr.’s fight against Victor Ortiz.
An old friend, Gene Kilroy, visited with him and watched Frazier work the crowd.
“He was so nice to everybody,” Kilroy said. “He would say to each of them, `Joe Frazier, sharp as a razor, what’s your name?”’
Frazier was small for a heavyweight, weighing just 205 pounds when he won the title by stopping Jimmy Ellis in the fifth round of their 1970 fight at Madison Square Garden. But he fought every minute of every round going forward behind a vicious left hook, and there were few fighters who could withstand his constant pressure.
His reign as heavyweight champion lasted only four fights - including the win over Ali - before he ran into an even more fearsome slugger than himself. George Foreman responded to Frazier’s constant attack by dropping him three times in the first round and three more in the second before their 1973 fight in Jamaica was waved to a close and the world had a new heavyweight champion.
Two fights later, he met Ali in a rematch of their first fight, only this time the outcome was different. Ali won a 12-round decision, and later that year stopped George Foreman in the Rumble in the Jungle in Zaire.
There had to be a third fight, though, and what a fight it was. With Ali’s heavyweight title at stake, the two met in Manila in a fight that will long be seared in boxing history.
Frazier went after Ali round after round, landing his left hook with regularity as he made Ali backpedal around the ring. But Ali responded with left jabs and right hands that found their mark again and again. Even the intense heat inside the arena couldn’t stop the two as they fought every minute of every round with neither willing to concede the other one second of the round.
“They told me Joe Frazier was through,” Ali told Frazier at one point during the fight.
“They lied,” Frazier said, before hitting Ali with a left hook.
Finally, though, Frazier simply couldn’t see and Futch would not let him go out for the 15th round. Ali won the fight while on his stool, exhausted and contemplating himself whether to go on.
It was one of the greatest fights ever, but it took a toll. Frazier would fight only two more times, getting knocked out in a rematch with Foreman eight months later before coming back in 1981 for an ill advised fight with Jumbo Cummings.
“They should have both retired after the Manila fight,” Schuyler said. “They left every bit of talent they had in the ring that day.”
Born in Beaufort, S.C., on Jan 12, 1944, Frazier took up boxing early after watching weekly fights on the black and white television on his family’s small farm. He was a top amateur for several years, and became the only American fighter to win a gold medal in the 1964 Olympics in Tokyo despite fighting in the final bout with an injured left thumb.
After turning pro in 1965, Frazier quickly became known for his punching power, stopping his first 11 opponents. Within three years he was fighting world-class opposition and, in 1970, beat Ellis to win the heavyweight title that he would hold for more than two years.
It was his fights with Ali, though, that would define Frazier. Though Ali was gracious in defeat in the first fight, he was as vicious with his words as he was with his punches in promoting all three fights - and he never missed a chance to get a jab in at Frazier.
Frazier, who in his later years would have financial trouble and end up running a gym in his adopted hometown of Philadelphia, took the jabs personally. He felt Ali made fun of him by calling him names and said things that were not true just to get under his skin. Those feelings were only magnified as Ali went from being an icon in the ring to one of the most beloved people in the world.
After a trembling Ali it the Olympic torch in 1996 in Atlanta, Frazier was asked by a reporter what he thought about it.
“They should have thrown him in,” Frazier responded.
He mellowed, though, in recent years, preferring to remember the good from his fights with Ali rather than the bad. Just before the 40th anniversary of his win over Ali earlier this year - a day Frazier celebrated with parties in New York - he said he no longer felt any bitterness toward Ali.
“I forgive him,” Frazier said. “He’s in a bad way.”
As I'm writing this, I'm wondering what Muhammad Ali's and Don King's responses will be upon hearing of his passing. My condolences go out to his family, friends, and all the fight fans across the world, regardless of whose corner you were in, because he was truly one of the great ones.
Smokin' Joe Frazier has now made his transition to that Great Arena In The Sky, where he will always be a champion.
Wow! I just had such a sad, surreal moment, as the headlines flashed across my computer screen that former Heavyweight Boxing Champion, Smokin' Joe Frazier has died. I couldn't process it for a moment - it seemed so wrong on so many levels.
First of all, a friend of mine had just learned that Joe Frazier was a relative of hers (and that was yesterday, Sunday, November 6, folks!) Don't even know what brought up the subject or his name, unless somehow his spirit was reaching out to hers. I jokingly said she should look him up the next time she's in Philly.
This evening, I am now looking in retrospect at how many times Joe Frazier and I have crossed paths - literally and figuratively. He was not a friend or an idol of mine in any sense of the word, particularly since, back in the day, I was (and am) a die-heard Muhammad Ali fan and devotee -always will be. And Frazier was considered by many of us revolutionaries a "sell out" of sorts.
The City of Philadelphia had decided to embrace him as their native son, particularly after Cassius Clay became Muhammad Ali, and tried to get those of us who were working for the city, including yours truly, to take some publicity shots to show that we were all solidly behind him and against Ali. They paraded him through the then office of the Deputy City Manager, where I worked as a Career Advisor for Hard Core Unemployed African Americans. To their shock and dismay, we let it be known that we were Ali friends, and would neither be bought off or threatened for our stand. An embarrassing moment for Frazier, but, then we were newly minted militants, and would not deviate from our stance.
I was so stunned by the news that I called my best friend in Philly, Annie G, woke her up and told her the news. She was one of the militants, along with myself and a brother named Giles Wright, who felt it necessary to make it known that we were too"Black and Proud" to stand with Frazier Black in the day. It was slightly before midnight. She had already gone to bed and had not heard - stunned as I was, I needed to speak with someone who had been part of those early days.
The second time I met him was several years later after the Thrilla in Manilla - there was no political axe to grind then, just the fact that Ali had avenged his title was enough for me. I remember being polite but still somewhat distant. Just in case Ali or one of his fans was watching - I didn't want to send the wrong signal. Now, how silly was that? We did tend to take ourselves waaaaay to seriously back in the day, though, didn't we?
But the last two times I met the champ was in Harlem at what was then a favorite haunt of us in-crowd Blacks - PERKS on 123rd and Manhattan Ave. Those of us who were Perk's Regulars remember well the times Smokin' Joe would stop in and hang out. Perk had photos of him all over the place. Now retired, we could kick it and talk about the good old, bad old days, and the fact that boxing wasn't like it used to be.
He was energetic, friendly and a total gentleman. He always seemed to enjoy being around where people were enjoying life - and if you couldn't enjoy life at Perks, you might as well have just rolled the ground over on you and given up.
He and Hank Perkins the former owner and founder, used to mock fight and crack jokes. Meeting him under those circumstances, kind of secretly regretted taking such a harsh stance against him. He was down to earth and positive.
We spoke of Ali and his bout with Parkinson's disease; Don King and the white promoter's jealousy of his success, and a lot of other things. And of course, the brother could, and did dance.
The last time I saw him, on TV, was when he tried to get his son, Joe Frazier Jr., to follow in his footsteps in the ring. I remember thinking how sad it was, because it was clear that the kid couldn't take the punch his dad did, and wasn't really interested in pursuing a boxing career.
I guess over time, if you really look back in retrospect, everything balances out, doesn't it. Both Frazier and Ali have made great contributions to our histories. They were catalysts for other youth who were looking to get into the arena and make names for themselves.
The Bio On Joe Frazier that flashed across my computer appeared just a scant 21 minutes after his demise, which meant someone was aware of and anticipated his passing. I share it below for those of you who were not familiar with him:
"Joe Frazier Dies After Fight With Cancer
—He beat Muhammad Ali in the Fight of the Century, battled him nearly to the death in the Thrilla in Manila. Then Joe Frazier spent the rest of his life trying to fight his way out of Ali’s shadow.
That was one fight Frazier could never win.
He was once a heavyweight champion, and a great one at that. Ali would say as much after Frazier knocked him down in the 15th round en route to becoming the first man to beat Ali at Madison Square Garden in March 1971.
But he bore the burden of being Ali’s foil, and he paid the price. Bitter for years about the taunts his former nemesis once threw his way, Frazier only in recent times came to terms with what happened in the past and said he had forgiven Ali for everything he said.
Frazier, who died Monday night after a brief battle with liver cancer at the age of 67, will forever be linked to Ali. But no one in boxing would ever dream of anointing Ali as The Greatest unless he, too, was linked to Smokin’ Joe.
“You can’t mention Ali without mentioning Joe Frazier,” said former AP boxing writer Ed Schuyler Jr. “He beat Ali, don’t forget that.”
They fought three times, twice in the heart of New York City and once in the morning in a steamy arena in the Philippines. They went 41 rounds together, with neither giving an inch and both giving it their all.
In their last fight in Manila in 1975, they traded punches with a fervor that seemed unimaginable among heavyweights. Frazier gave almost as good as he got for 14 rounds, then had to be held back by trainer Eddie Futch as he tried to go out for the final round, unable to see.
“Closest thing to dying that I know of,” Ali said afterward.
Ali was as merciless with Frazier out of the ring as he was inside it. He called him a gorilla, and mocked him as an Uncle Tom. But he respected him as a fighter, especially after Frazier won a decision to defend his heavyweight title against the then-unbeaten Ali in a fight that was so big Frank Sinatra was shooting pictures at ringside and both fighters earned an astonishing $2.5 million.
The night at the Garden 40 years ago remained fresh in Frazier’s mind as he talked about his life, career and relationship with Ali a few months before he died.
“I can’t go nowhere where it’s not mentioned,” he told The Associated Press. “That was the greatest thing that ever happened in my life.”
Though slowed in his later years and his speech slurred by the toll of punches taken in the ring, Frazier was still active on the autograph circuit in the months before he died. In September he went to Las Vegas, where he signed autographs in the lobby of the MGM Grand hotel-casino shortly before Floyd Mayweather Jr.’s fight against Victor Ortiz.
An old friend, Gene Kilroy, visited with him and watched Frazier work the crowd.
“He was so nice to everybody,” Kilroy said. “He would say to each of them, `Joe Frazier, sharp as a razor, what’s your name?”’
Frazier was small for a heavyweight, weighing just 205 pounds when he won the title by stopping Jimmy Ellis in the fifth round of their 1970 fight at Madison Square Garden. But he fought every minute of every round going forward behind a vicious left hook, and there were few fighters who could withstand his constant pressure.
His reign as heavyweight champion lasted only four fights - including the win over Ali - before he ran into an even more fearsome slugger than himself. George Foreman responded to Frazier’s constant attack by dropping him three times in the first round and three more in the second before their 1973 fight in Jamaica was waved to a close and the world had a new heavyweight champion.
Two fights later, he met Ali in a rematch of their first fight, only this time the outcome was different. Ali won a 12-round decision, and later that year stopped George Foreman in the Rumble in the Jungle in Zaire.
There had to be a third fight, though, and what a fight it was. With Ali’s heavyweight title at stake, the two met in Manila in a fight that will long be seared in boxing history.
Frazier went after Ali round after round, landing his left hook with regularity as he made Ali backpedal around the ring. But Ali responded with left jabs and right hands that found their mark again and again. Even the intense heat inside the arena couldn’t stop the two as they fought every minute of every round with neither willing to concede the other one second of the round.
“They told me Joe Frazier was through,” Ali told Frazier at one point during the fight.
“They lied,” Frazier said, before hitting Ali with a left hook.
Finally, though, Frazier simply couldn’t see and Futch would not let him go out for the 15th round. Ali won the fight while on his stool, exhausted and contemplating himself whether to go on.
It was one of the greatest fights ever, but it took a toll. Frazier would fight only two more times, getting knocked out in a rematch with Foreman eight months later before coming back in 1981 for an ill advised fight with Jumbo Cummings.
“They should have both retired after the Manila fight,” Schuyler said. “They left every bit of talent they had in the ring that day.”
Born in Beaufort, S.C., on Jan 12, 1944, Frazier took up boxing early after watching weekly fights on the black and white television on his family’s small farm. He was a top amateur for several years, and became the only American fighter to win a gold medal in the 1964 Olympics in Tokyo despite fighting in the final bout with an injured left thumb.
After turning pro in 1965, Frazier quickly became known for his punching power, stopping his first 11 opponents. Within three years he was fighting world-class opposition and, in 1970, beat Ellis to win the heavyweight title that he would hold for more than two years.
It was his fights with Ali, though, that would define Frazier. Though Ali was gracious in defeat in the first fight, he was as vicious with his words as he was with his punches in promoting all three fights - and he never missed a chance to get a jab in at Frazier.
Frazier, who in his later years would have financial trouble and end up running a gym in his adopted hometown of Philadelphia, took the jabs personally. He felt Ali made fun of him by calling him names and said things that were not true just to get under his skin. Those feelings were only magnified as Ali went from being an icon in the ring to one of the most beloved people in the world.
After a trembling Ali it the Olympic torch in 1996 in Atlanta, Frazier was asked by a reporter what he thought about it.
“They should have thrown him in,” Frazier responded.
He mellowed, though, in recent years, preferring to remember the good from his fights with Ali rather than the bad. Just before the 40th anniversary of his win over Ali earlier this year - a day Frazier celebrated with parties in New York - he said he no longer felt any bitterness toward Ali.
“I forgive him,” Frazier said. “He’s in a bad way.”
As I'm writing this, I'm wondering what Muhammad Ali's and Don King's responses will be upon hearing of his passing. My condolences go out to his family, friends, and all the fight fans across the world, regardless of whose corner you were in, because he was truly one of the great ones.
Smokin' Joe Frazier has now made his transition to that Great Arena In The Sky, where he will always be a champion.
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