My Encounters with Cassius Clay and Muhammad Ali

A giant has fallen and the world has noticed. “The Greatest” – Muhammad Ali – is one more star in the heavens. His passing on June 3rd at the age of 74 has been covered extensively by the media. Here are my two personal recollections of meeting a real champion, three decades apart.

In 1964, I was a student at the High School of Music & Art and a brash young boxer named Cassius Clay had already won the Gold Gloves and Olympic Gold as a Light Heavyweight by the time he was 18.

There were two ways to get from my home to my high school in Manhattan’s Harlem. The shorter way required climbing a very long set of stone stairs through a park. Because I was arriving late one morning, I chose the shorter path. Clutching my textbooks, I was trundling up those steps, alone, when I found myself surrounded by several youths who clearly were not classmates. This group didn’t go to school and their boredom was about to be alleviated by taking advantage of my solitary situation.

As their nudging grew to shoving, matched by the pulsing of my heart pushing inside me, the ugly scene was suddenly interrupted by a beautiful bronze angel. Everyone recognized Cassius Clay (the name he was given at birth, named after his father, not yet changed) as he seemed to float down the steps to the jostling group. In just a few, soft-spoken words, my savior reminded my abusers that their bullying behavior reflected poorly on them.

Then he went on his way. We all did as the group dispersed. I’ll never forget that encounter. My guess is none of those other kids did either.

Fast forward to circa 1998. I was married, mother of two young children and deeply involved in protecting children’s rights. At a Chicago fundraiser for HEAR MY VOICE: Protecting Our Nation’s Children, Muhammad Ali (he changed his name shortly after our first encounter) was the guest of honor, a “Champion of Children”, recognized for his decades of work on behalf of at-risk kids.

My husband, children and I happened to be standing just inside the entrance of the hotel banquet room where the event was to take place when in walked Ali, arm in arm with his wife, Lonnie. As TV cameras rolled and photographers snapped photos, an aura filled the room. The Parkinson’s that was taking over his physical being could not dim his dynamic spirit.

Suddenly, Ali stopped where my 6-year-old daughter stood, bent over and kissed her on the top of her head. Then he gestured to her to reciprocate with a kiss on his cheek, which she happily obliged. Later, while having our photo taken with “The Champ”, I briefly recounted our first meeting to Ali. He answered with a kind, slightly wisecracking tone but the Parkinson’s made his words unintelligible to me. I was embarrassed for my lack of understanding and did not want to embarrass him as well, so I smiled and nodded as if in agreement. My heart broke a little. I have the photos of my family with Ali that evening, along with a pair of autographed red Everlast boxing gloves. My husband, children and I will always remember this encounter with a giant of our times.

Although the media has been filled with countless stories celebrating the life of Muhammad Ali, the anonymity of social media has once again unleased the dark underbelly of our society. There are those whose blind prejudices fuel their online invective. Ali was a complex man, not a perfect man. In the public eye, he was an extroverted entertainer. In private life, he was introspective and held deeply to his faith. He anointed himself “The Greatest” and set out to be just that. He had a gift with words and I share three of his quotes that say much about who he was:

“He who is not courageous enough to take risks will accomplish nothing in life.”

“Service to others is the rent you pay for your room here on earth.”

Want to learn more about the life and times of Muhammad Ali? A great place to start is Pulitzer Prize winning author David Remnick’s KING OF THE WORLD.

To read Ali writing about Ali, check out his excellent memoir The Greatest and his final, reflective book The Soul of a Butterfly.