The Greatest....

I met Muhammad Ali in Chicago in the latter 1960s. He had already been stripped of his title,
and strongly rebuffed by whites for his objections to fighting in the Vietnam War, was camped
out in Hyde Park near both the University of Chicago and not far from the mosque led by Elijah
Muhammad, the dean of Islam in the US. I was a Phd candidate at U. of C and I was standing
on Kenwood Ave. with a colleague of mine. As he approached on the sidewalk, my friend, who
would go on to be president of a major west coast seminary and divinity school and was a gifted
orator even then, opened his arms and said in a crisp voice, "Hey champ...You know as far as
we're concerned you're still champ." We got the brilliant smile, saw the shoulders relax, and a
warm nod and hello. He was truly a larger than life guy. Tall, broad shouldered as you would
expect, handsome with flashing eyes. It was very tough for him then, but he gave us about twenty
minutes, ever gracious. We talked not about boxing but about the war and the great damage it
would do.

He liked the idea that just two white guys on the street knew his predicament in detail and welcomed
him anyway. We had notepads with us but never asked for an autograph. We shook hands and off
he went. These were good moments in what was to become a very difficult time for the US. And
through it all, Ali kept his dignity and eventually won back his championship and so much more.