Around the end of June I got a call from Coach Feely from the College of St. Thomas informing me Heavy and I were accepted.  I was so excited and told Aunt Ida and Aunt Betty immediately.

Aunt Ida said, “Little Henry now do you understand why I was so hard on you about reading and doing your homework”?

“Yeah and I can’t thank you enough.”

“You can thank me later by graduating from college.”

“Ok Aunt Ida, I promise I will graduate.”

“You better. Don’t make me have to make a trip to Minnesota to straighten you out!” she teased.  Aunt Betty was watching and laughing at Aunt Ida but she supported every word Aunt Ida was saying.

One of the most touching moments in my life was one Saturday morning on our front porch. I knew Aunt Betty had informed my grandfather I would attend college in Minnesota. We all knew it was time for me to leave the nest and start manhood!

“Son, I have done all that I can do for you. Be the best man you can be. I will always be proud of you and I love you.”  This was the only time in my life my grandfather ever said the word “love.”  I never even heard him tell my grandmother he loved her but we all knew he did. I respectfully responded, “Daddy, I love you too!”

Suddenly he said, “I need your help to fix that damn garage door again. The hinges need to be replaced.”

“Ok, daddy when do want to do it?”

“Lets do it tomorrow, I want to watch the Sox game this afternoon.” He went on and on about how he could help the White Sox baseball team win if they would just listen to him. He was the quintessential baseball armchair quarterback.  And I loved him!

Men of his generation didn’t use such words.  Words of affection demonstrated weakness and were not “manly.”  His usage of the word “love” shocked me, but at the same time I knew exactly what he meant; he did the best job he could raising me.  This was the farthest he could take me.  He hoped that his values were firmly planted into my young heart, mind and soul. But only time would tell.

Our conversation that Saturday morning only lasted for a few seconds. I have often wondered what made men of his generation uncomfortable using the word “love” to someone they care for? What if other men said this to their sons more often?

By saying this simple word, could it make a difference in relationships all over world between fathers and sons?

This is my last post. I will be spending the next several weeks completing my autobiography. I hope you enjoyed the blogs to date.  In preparation for the completion of the book, I will add more details to each blog. I know you will find the book as thought provoking as the blogs. I hope by sharing my family values will inspire others to find their purpose in life as I have.

Thanks for reading and take care,

Bill Roddy

Arriving back in Chicago, the first thing I did was complete all the enrollment forms and mail them back to Coach Feely.  I contacted Heavy and told him about my trip to Minnesota, being with Coach Vaughn and visiting the College of St. Thomas.

Coach Vaughn and Heavy were very close. Heavy played junior varsity for Coach Vaughn during his freshman year at Crane. Heavy had attended several local colleges over the years. Now Heavy was living back at home in our old community.

I’d never had a direct conversation with Heavy.  He was four years older (light years difference) so he was out of my reach during my middle school and high school years.  Heavy was one of the legends in our community and at Crane High School. Junior varsity and varsity basketball teams traveled together on the buses to all away games. Heavy knew me by face but never did we have a one on one conversation.

We finally made contact and I met with him.  We made small talk for a few minutes.  I told Heavy Coach Vaughn wanted me to contact him about my experiences in Minnesota.  I told Heavy if I get accepted I was attending the school!

Heavy asked several questions about Minnesota, the coach at St. Thomas and scholarships.  I told him St. Thomas was a private university and did not give out athletic scholarships. I had an extra application and gave it to him. Heavy called Coach Vaughn and later made the decision to apply with me.

June 1975.  I am preparing to finish high school and share with my family about the possibility of attending school in Minnesota.

I was also emotionally preparing to leave Chicago.  I maintained contact with Ms. Loving.  I met her in her office one afternoon.

“Ms. Loving, are you still willing to help me contact my biological father who is living in Harvey?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “Just give me his first and last name and I will start right away. By the way, what college are you attending after graduation?”

“I don’t know at this time Ms. Loving. I just returned from looking at a school in Minnesota.  If I can get accepted that’s where I will go.  Coach Vaughn is living in Minnesota and I hope to hear from the college coach soon.”

After graduation in June all the basketball team members were asking each other about our plans.  What colleges if any were we going to attend?  I told them I hoped to attend a college in Minnesota where Coach Vaughn is living. We all promised to stay in touch with one another.  I knew all I had to do was stay in touch Ernest.  Ernest was the point person and would keep in touch with everyone else.

During the latter part of June I had lots of time to reflect on the possibility of leaving my family for the first time.  The thought of leaving my grandparents, Aunt Betty, Aunt Ida, Aunt Sam, especially not being able to spend weekends with Sam. My excitement was mixed with profound sadness.

I also felt guilty leaving my aunt’s kids.  Their kids looked up to me.  I was their role model.  I tormented myself:

Am I depriving their kids of a mentor and role model?

Who will help Juan learn to throw a curve ball like my grandfather taught me?

Who will help them with their homework in the evenings like I did?

Who will babysit the kids while Aunt Ida and Aunt Betty went out on some weekends after working hard during the week?

Would I been able to survive without Aunt ‘Yams’ hugs and being in her presence?

After college what will my life be like?

My aunts dedicated so much time, energy, and nurturing to me during those years while raising their own kids.  Clearly I was nephew and son at the same time.

Yes, an exciting time for me and also loaded with guilt about college taking me away from my mentoring role.

Tuesday, June 29^th, The Call From Coach Feely, My Grandfather’s Love and Ms. Loving’s Help With Locating My Biological Father.

I asked E-Thang, “Hey man, you still interested in coming with me to check out the school in Minnesota?”

“Yeah Nag, let’s check it out!”

Coach Vaughn picked us up at the Greyhound bus station in downtown Minneapolis.  Coach mentioned how cleaned the city was and asked how the other players were doing back in Chicago.  Coach said he loved the quality of life in Minneapolis. The coach at St. Thomas had arranged for us to work out with several current and former players at St. Thomas the following day.

“You guys want to see some of the city before we get to my house?”

“Yeah Coach.”  He drove around the parks and lakes of South Minneapolis.  E-Thang and I could not believe how clean the entire city was in comparison to Chicago.

“Nag, it looks like one big suburb, don’t it,” E-Thank said.

Seeing the lakes and parks was all that I needed.  At that moment my mind was made up. If I get into this school in St. Paul, this is where I would like to live.

We arrive at Coach Vaughn’s home that evening. His wife, son, and young daughter warmly welcomed us.

The next morning we arrive on the campus of St. Thomas. Coach Tom Feely greeted us and thanked Coach Vaughn for contacting him.  In the gym waiting were several of his current and former players.  He matched E-Thang and I together with one of his former players, John Morin, aka “Lou.”

We played 3 on 3 games for about 45 minutes or more.  E-Thang and I did extremely well and enjoyed displaying our skills.  We wanted to make Coach Vaughn proud of us.

An opportunity to leave Chicago, be close to Coach Vaughn, and be in an atmosphere with similar values of my family.  In my young mind it just didn’t get any better than that!

After our workout, I could see the excitement on Coach Vaughn’s face but Coach Feely was drooling with excitement.  He literally asked us to commit on the spot! He made it clear that academics at St. Thomas were taken very seriously. We had showed him we made the grade on the basketball court. Now he told us we had to have made the academic grades high school to be accepted. This is Division III basketball and if we decide to attend we had to be serious in the classroom.

He took us on a tour of the campus and introduced us to some of the other coaches. We stopped by the admissions office and got enrollment applications to take back to Chicago to complete and send back to him. Coach Vaughn mentioned to Coach Feely that we would be in town for a few more days and would be spending time with James Jackson at the University of MN.

Coach Feely asked if we wanted to go and see the Minnesota Twins play.  E-Thang didn’t show any interest but I said yes.  The next day Coach Vaughn’s dropped me off on campus and Coach Feely and I attended a Twins game at the Metropolitan Stadium in Bloomington.  We saw the game from box seats. I immediately thought of my grandfather and knew he would be thrilled to watch a game from box seats.

Coach Feely had contacted an alumnus who had box seats right next to the owner Calvin Griffith.  As a young man I was impressed but my mind was already made up on attending St. Thomas if accepted. During the game Coach Feely and I talked about the importance of education, family values, working hard and the contacts I could make in college that would last a lifetime.

Coach Feely asked me what other colleges did Coach Vaughn contact.

“Macalester and Hamline were contacted but you were the only one to return Coach Vaughn’s phone call. Coach, if they call I will tell them that I’ve already made my decision on attending St. Thomas.” Coach Feely smiled with excitement and so did I.

What startled me most was how could it be possible for my grandfather and Coach Feely to have similar values?  They came from different worlds and were raised in totally different environments. Do similar values transcend racial, economic, political and social barriers?  What is it about family values that cause us to seek others like ourselves?  Is the seeking a verification and validation of those values? Or is it just a human trait wired into our DNA that compels us to seek a sense of belonging to one another?

The next day, E-Thang, Coach Vaughn and I went over to the University of MN to spend time with James Jackson, a Crane High recruit from the previous year.  James was happy to see us and showed us around Williams Arena and his dorm.   He introduced us to Mychal Thompson, Osborne Lockhart, and one of the assistant coaches named Jimmy Williams.

After leaving James and returning to Coach Vaughn’s home, we talked in detail about our experience.   I told Coach Vaughn that I wanted to attend St. Thomas if accepted.   I could sense E-Thang had bigger plans. I knew he wanted to go to a bigger school, Division II or I where basketball was more promoted.  I knew in my heart I wanted nothing to do with Division I or II basketball.  E-Thang said, “Yeah Nag, I can see you at St. Thomas, it’s a better fit for you.” My internal conflicts were being resolved and the calmness was extremely welcoming once I made my decision to attend St. Thomas if accepted.

Upon leaving Minnesota, Coach Vaughn said, “Nag, make sure you get in touch with Heavy to see if he would like to come along with you if you get accepted.”

“Ok Coach, as soon as I get back I will get in touch with him.”

Getting accepted into St. Thomas was the primary thought on my mind.  Sometimes friends are more perceptive than they realize. E-Thang’s knew this was the place for me!

June 25^th, Melvin “Heavy” Freeman And My Grandfather’s Love and Preparing To Leave Chicago.

Coach Vaughn resigned from Crane and moved his family to Minneapolis, MN.  Coach White had made promises of helping us get into colleges. But after basketball season ended he moved on with other things in his life.  We were left to take care of college ourselves.

I knew that my life in Chicago was ending.  Somehow I was able to get Coach Vaughn’s contact information in Minneapolis. I called him immediately.

“Hi Coach Vaughn, this is Nag calling.”

“Hey Nag, how are you doing?”

“Not so good Coach. Coach White was unable to help us get into college. We had a few local junior colleges express interest but I want to leave Chicago. I was wondering if you could contact some of the colleges in Minnesota and ask if they need any players?”

“Ok Nag, let me make some calls into Coach Bill Mussleman at the University of Minnesota and I will get back to you within a few days.”

He knew Coach Musselman because one of our high school teammates, James Jackson, was recruited and enrolled at the University of MN in 1974.

Coach Vaughn called me back within a week and said that Coach Musselman gave him three names of local colleges; Macalester College, Hamline University and The College of St. Thomas. All three colleges were in St. Paul. Coach Vaughn said he had put calls into all three coaches and had not yet heard from them.

“Once I hear from them I will arrange for a few of you guys to come up and meet the coaches. All three of these schools are strong academically. These are private universities that don’t give out athletic scholarship. You should be able to qualify for some financial aide if accepted.”

“Ok, thanks Coach.”

I prepared to leave my family for the first time in my life. They were very happy for me.  I was 18 and was ready for the next exciting phase my life. Amazingly I started feeling calm and could not understand why. I told a few of the players that I had contacted Coach Vaughn and that they were welcome to go to Minnesota with me.  The only one showing any interest was Ernest “E-Thang” Williams.  E-Thang played forward for our team and was an incredible rebounder.

May 1975. Coach Vaughn called and said that he heard back from the coach at St. Thomas College in St. Paul.“Their coach would like for you to come up and work out with some of his players.  When can you come up?”

“Coach I will start working on the funds to take the bus and ask a few other players to see if they have an interest. May we stay with you while we’re there Coach?” “Absolutely you can. I think you will like Minnesota.”

The calmness returned and I finally felt a sense of peace within myself for the first time.  I was headed to a place that supported some of my family values; no athletic scholarships, a small private university that emphasizes education, sports was a distant second and no more conversations about playing NBA basketball as goal!

I never revealed my internal conflicts to Aunt Betty but she could tell that I had something going on inside of me.  It was our late night conversations, after her kids were in bed that helped me realize that my focus and dedication on our values was the right direction to take. I then realized that basketball would be a stepping-stone for something else but I still had no idea what that would be.

During my senior year at Crane, Aunt Betty, Coach White and Coach Vaughn, my relationship with my friend Ernest, were the catalysts moving me into manhood, the process my grandfather lovingly and firmly started.

I can still hear Coach Vaughn’s affirmation; “Use basketball but don’t let basketball use you.”

I knew my grandparents could not afford to send me to college.  So using basketball only as a vehicle to get to college made sense to me.  Basketball now took on a whole new and constructive meaning!

Tuesday, June 22^nd, 2010, Minnesota Bound! E-Thang and I arrive in Minneapolis

Ernest and Walt had become great friends off the court as well.  My family and I were living in K-Town. Ernest was still living in our old community. I took the bus home most times after practice. I did my homework if I had any, or just went to playground and play basketball with Romero, the gang members, and the locals.

Was I was I jealous of Ernest’s relationship with Walt? Honestly? No. I had too much on my mind at the time.  I valued being alone in the evenings in my bedroom.  Ernest and I had a bond that could never be broken.  The amount of time we spent together was not important.  What we talked about at those moments when we were together that was more important than quantity spent.  I knew he would be a great friend to Walt and I truly hoped Walt would see, feel, and accept what I felt while being with Ernest.  During a military battle Ernest would be one of guys you wanted by your side.

As the season progressed some of the team members skipped some of their classes. When Coach Vaughn found out he asked Coach White to gather the team together during a practice break. Coach Vaughn wanted to talk with the entire team about this issue.  I remember this day as if it happened yesterday. I was looking into his eyes, feeling this would be something very important. I had no idea of the magnitude of what was about come out of his mouth.

“I know some of you are cutting classes but you are only short changing yourselves. You will need more than basketball in your lives, you will need your education to make it in this world.” The final portion of his speech is what resonated with me.

“Let basketball be a vehicle that you can use to improve your life, use basketball but don’t let basketball use you”.

Later that week we found out that several teachers had approached Coach Vaughn. The teachers told Coach who was skipping classes. Most of teachers were concerned about student athletes’ education. They knew Coach Vaughn was equally concerned that we take education seriously. Teachers and coaches worked together. Both were educators and knew it would take more than our basketball skills for us make it in society.

At that moment basketball took on a whole new meaning.

Coach’s statement was the culmination.  It helped me understand my commitment to my grandparent’s values, expressed to me directly by them, and confirmed by Aunt Betty, Aunt Sam, Aunt Ida, school teachers, Coach White all together.  Coach’s statement was all that I needed to hear at that moment in my life. I felt his passion, his love for us, his disappointment in the few who were skipping classes as if it were the whole team doing it.  For me it seemed like he was talking to me personally. I felt a sense of calmness. Some of the players got it and some didn’t!

We all knew that Walt was struggling with his classes. Walt eventually became ineligible for the remainder of the season. He did attend college in Wisconsin and played on the basketball team. Whenever I talk to Ernest I ask about Walt.  Walt and I are great friends to this day!

The last six games of our season I was moved into the starting guard position with Ernest.  I played point guard; my natural position was off guard/shooting guard. Ernest was a natural shooter as well and I gladly accepted my role at the point position.

I remember the last game of the regular reason against Harrison High School, another west side school.  Our team played well the last five games but during the Harrison game, I made two crucial turnovers that cost us the game.  I felt such disappointment in myself.  I had let the team down during a critical time. I could see the disappointment in Coach White’s face.  Even thought I had resolved my internal conflicts I still felt ashamed of my performance.

The point guard position is a reflection of the coach on the floor. I represented my coach, my high school, and it’s reputation.  I failed when the team needed me most! We still made the playoffs. We won the first two-playoff games and eventually lost to the state champions Wendell Phillips High School.

The student body that attended games in Chicago inner city games had great school spirit and had “taunts” that were directed at the opposing teams.  After Wendell Phillips had the game wrapped up and during the closing minutes all of the people on their side of the stands all chanted the words to a popular song, “It’s all over, it’s over, it’s over now”, by the Ohio Players.” They repeated the chant for several minutes. They let us know we were done.

Sometimes its through our failures and disappointments that we learn about aspects of ourselves.  I have often reflected on the Harrison game and learn to use the experience as a motivating factor and not let the isolated situation define who I am as a person.

But even feeling this shame and disappointment I knew it was not a reflection of me as a whole. That one game was one of the best things to happen to me. It made me stronger.

Later in life it taught me to learn from all of life’s experiences. We human beings seem to understand and grow more through fear and pain rather than through love.  Another one of life’s ironies. I later in life learned that it doesn’t have to be that way.

Friday, June 18^th, 2010, Basketball season over, Coach White’s Disappointments, Ms Loving, Meeting my biological father and the “Uproar It Caused At Home”.

Aunt Betty and I continued to have our late night talks.  We would sit and listen to R&B songs on the radio.  She tried to teach me some dance moves for our upcoming senior prom, but I had two left feet.  She would tell me many stories, some are still vague memories, but some are as clear as looking out a window on a sunny day.  Aunt Betty was the first to talk to me about my biological father.  She told me his name was Lawrence “Larry” Woodson and he lived in a southern suburb.  She told me that I should a least meet him once in my life.  She said everyone called him “Butch” while they were all in high school in Marvell, Arkansas. She said he was a good person.

Aunt Betty never suggested I become a doctor, lawyer, a teacher, or any particular profession. She would say similar things as Aunt Ida but in different ways.

“Daddy and Mamma wanted all of us to use education to better ourselves. Daddy especially wanted you to use education to make a better life for yourself. So what you do with that education is up to you. But he never saw you becoming a big time professional athlete.”

I had no reply to those statements. No understanding to bring any clarity to this insightfulness, but they were stored into my mind. The understanding came much later!

My junior and senior year I participated in the school’s student employment program.  It was an employment program in collaboration with many downtown businesses and inner city schools.  The program’s purpose was to provide employment to high school juniors and seniors.  We received credits towards graduation for attending the program and had to make satisfactory progress in all of our other classes at school in order to continue in the program. Ms Loving was the director and she did a great job of getting the students jobs.  I worked in the early mornings from 7:00 am to 11:00 am and would arrive back at school around 12:00 each day.

Sometimes I would go straight to Ms. Loving’s office and let her know how things were going on the job assignment.  We made lots of small talk.  She told me that she lived in a southern suburb called Markham.  I told her that I was thinking about trying to contact my biological father who at the time was living in Harvey, another southern suburb near Markham.  Ms. Loving said that she would be willing to help me if I needed her assistance.  I told her thanks but I haven’t made up my mind yet and wasn’t sure how my grandparents would feel about this.

This was during the heart of the basketball season and I didn’t want to add more stress on my young mind.  Dealing with living in K-Town, the conflicts and the shame of not living up to my basketball potential in a basketball obsessed environment, my confidence shaky at best, and not having any answers. No thanks!

I constantly reflected on Coach White’s statements along with Aunt Betty’s insights and her sharing my grandfather’s hopes for me.  It took a statement from Coach Vaughn to bring all of the pieces together.

Tuesday, June 15^th, 2010, “Searching Outside Of The Family For Similar Values”, Part IV, My Senior Year at Crane High School, Coach Vaughn and My conflicts Coming to An End!

Senior year, Coach Vaughn took over the varsity team.  In those days only a certified teacher could be the coach. He was our coach on paper but Crane’s administration brought in Coach White.  Coach White was well known throughout the basketball community.  He coached several of the legends in many summer tournaments over the years.  All his team won leagues, divisions and championships. His knowledge of the game was impeccable. Coach White was our version of Coach Bobby Knight, the famous volatile coach of the University of Indiana basketball team.

I was thinking this would be my year to break out of my confidence slump and have a good senior year and play guard along side Ernest. Fink would be proud!

Throughout my basketball development, Coach White was the most demanding and intense coach I’ve ever met.  He knew the ins and outs of each position like the back of his hand.  When he took over the team everyone had to earn his position on the team. Our team was close; we truly cared about one another. Ernest “E-Thang” Williams, Walter “Jr Man” Green, Ernest “Brother Ern” Leaks, Michael “Mikey” Lewis and Lamar “Big Dipper” Kimbrough.

I can recall Coach White talking to the guards on the art of playing those positions.  The second guard position in particular he went into great detail about the “art of creating space” to get your shot off if there was a need to go one-on-one at a particular time or just coming off “picks.”

“Nag,” Coach called out to me while Ernest and Walt were executing guard drills.

“Basketball is a chess game in motion. You have to use your mind and intelligence to perform consistently and grow as a player,” Coach said beaming with excitement. “First you have to master the fundamentals and then the sky is the limit. Becoming a great basketball player is a long process. It takes dedication and many hours of practice.”

“Nag, you hear television announcers talking about black basketball players as ‘athletic.’ It’s as if we don’t have minds, are not intelligent, and our bodies are on autopilot out of our mothers’ wombs. Announcers only use ‘intelligent’ when describing white basketball players. Sad time in our country, Nag.”

I looked at him in complete consternation! I knew the 1960’s and the civil rights movement had influenced him as well. But what does this have to do with all of the stuff going on inside me?

He spoke at length about how he wanted to teach us to observe and remember the defender’s idiosyncrasies and weaknesses in defensive schemes. What is he talking about? I did not play chess. So what’s chess got to do with anything?

I didn’t make the starting five that year and lost out to sophomore Walter Green.  Walt was a confident player and impressed Coach White as the last starter on the team.  I was disappointed but deep down I understood and accepted his decision. In between practice breaks Coach White would tell us inspiring stories of the players of the past he’d coached at Crane, around the community and country.  Only if we had a tape recorder! His stories were inspiring to our young minds. Coach White was also perceptive of human nature.

I remember profound remarks he made to me senior year. Coach called me over during a break while all the other players were getting water.

“Nag, come over here for a second.”

“Yeah Coach.”

“I’m not sure why you lack confidence in yourself. You have no idea how talented you are. During practice you work harder than any player on the team. You are one of the most respectful young men I have ever met.  One day when you resolve what’s bothering you inside you will be unstoppable. You will make a wonderful husband to a very deserving young lady.”

I felt truly touched by his sincerity!  His tone of voice, his penetrating focus on my eyes sent chills through me. He and I both knew there was something going on inside of me but neither one of us had any answers.

As respectfully as I could muster I said,“ Thanks Coach,” and we continued practice! Nothing else was ever said again. It was one of those moments I’ve never forgotten. At times it feels like it happen yesterday!

I played a little coming off the bench that year, mainly as a substitute at forward and guard position to rest Ernest or Walt.  Ernest and Walt were playing great together at the guard positions and the team did well under Coach White.

I often wondered, “Why am I receiving all Coach’s insights at this time in my life?”  He imparted most of these insights during practice breaks.

Coach Vaughn attended some of our practices with Coach White to help out. I bonded quickly with Coach Vaughn on the sidelines.  Coach Vaughn never said a demeaning word to me.  He reminded me of Ernest in many ways.

Most of the athletes at Crane gravitated to Coach Vaughn, as he was the varsity football coach.  He was a no nonsense type who let you now where you stood. His mere presence commanded respect and he reminded me a lot of my grandfather.

I wasn’t the only player Coach White would talk to during our practice breaks.

Coach White seemed to sense when one of us needed his guidance.  I often wondered and still wonder how his guidance affected the rest of my teammates. I wonder what he said to them? Did it impact them as much as it did me?

Friday, June 11^th, “Searching Outside The Family For Similar Values, Part VIII, My Senior Year at Crane High School, Late Night Talks with Aunt Betty, Coach Vaughn and Conflicts Coming To An End!”

Junior year, I made the varsity team. Ernest was getting lots of playing time off the bench.  This was Coach Brown’s first year as varsity coach and I never played during that year.  Coach expressed his disappointed in my lack of confidence, many times in a very demeaning way but I stayed on and supported my teammates. Coach Brown and I never developed a relationship during my junior year. I was “off the radar” junior year and would not be making a contribution to the team. James Jackson and Andre “Champ” Wakefield were the stars on the team that year.

I mainly spent a lot of time talking to Aunt Betty and helping out my grandfather around the house. My grandfather was the kind of man that would never ask for help.  He would exhaust himself before he would consider asking for any type of assistance.

It was a very tough year for me due to lots of reflection about the many contradictions. I realized that my grandparents were human just everyone else.  One day I answered the phone and it was a bill collector. She asked for my grandfather. He just happened to be walking past me on his way towards the back of our house.

“May I speak to Mr. Roddy please”?

“Daddy, some lady on the phone wants to talk to you.”

“Who is it?”

“May I ask who is calling please?” She said she was so and so from X company.

“Hey Daddy, it’s so and so from X company.” I’m hollering out to my grandfather with the lady on the other end of the line.

“Tell her I’m not here.”

“I’m so sorry Ms so and so but my father is not here.”

“Tell your father that he needs to take care of his outstanding bill with us,” she said ever so politely.

“Daddy, she said it was some kind of bill you owed them.”

My grandfather did not say a word but his piercing look taught me much that evening!

My grandparents never talked to us about money or finances.  Their generation did not share this type of information with their kids. I would often wonder how much money we had.  I would accompany my grandfather to the bank and he would talk to me about paying bills but never shared which ones. Most of the time is was to get money orders to pay bills and I do remember seeing him put some money into a saving account. I never wanted for anything, never lacked clothing or food. But we never talked about the money that provided these things.  Why was it a taboo subject?

Aunt Betty would ask me to take a more active role in mentoring her sons Juan, Lovell (Fat), Lekeif, (Ke Ke), Lenard (Na Na). Juan was her oldest son and he loved to watch me play baseball at our local playground after school.  I did the best I could to always be positive and support them.

High school started to feel like a burden. My classes were not that challenging and I had a study hall on my schedule.  The study halls were “temporary holding pens” as far as I was concerned.  Nobody studied in them so I felt I did need to attend them.  I started to skip study hall. About two weeks later my grandmother met me in the living room and started screaming at me about a letter she got Crane saying I was cutting classes. The letter did not indicate it was a study hall and that I was getting A’s and B’s in all of my other classes.  It just said that I was cutting classes. I had to listen to her rant and rave at me for about 10 minutes before she cooled down.  She had contacted Aunt Ida and Aunt Ida had arrived in the living to room to see what all of the commotion was about.  Imagine my thoughts and feelings as Aunt Ida, aka Klingon Warrior approached me.

“Aunt Ida, please let me explain the letter to you and mamma.  I am not cutting any of my major classes. This is just a study hall the students go to. Nobody does any studying and it’s boring. Why should I have to go to them?”

“You need to go to them because they are on your schedule,” Aunt Ida said. “Mamma and Daddy don’t know the difference because the letter did not say what classes you were skipping. Don’t miss any more study halls and I don’t ever what to see this type of letter coming here again or I will make sure Daddy finds out.”

That’s all she had to say!  I never missed another one.

I had violated an important component of our family values, education, and was quickly brought back in line by loved ones.  There was no negotiation, I was “guilty” for skipping classes and the jury had made their decision. Obey the family values or there will be hell to pay, case closed!

June 8^th, 2010, “Searching Outside Of The Family For Similar Values” Part VII, My Senior year at Crane High School, Coach Vaughn, Coach White and my conflicts resolved!

Ernest and I made the junior varsity team as freshmen at Crane High School.  That same year “Heavy” was a senior and one of our local legends. Heavy’s original position was guard but he was an intelligent player who understood all of the positions extremely well.  The team that year was full of great senior guards; Nate Williams, Donald Brown, Patrick Hazelwood and James Jackson.  Heavy played center that year.  That year the varsity team made it to the Illinois State Basketball Tournament.  We called it “going down state” when a public team from the city made it to the state tournament.

All of the teams made it down state had to endure extreme amounts of competition from other schools in the city and from other regions.  If your team made it out of its region by playing other city schools, then it had to go to the sectionals and then super-sectionals. Then your team was battle tested and ready for the big show down state against the state’s best.

Ernest and I didn’t get much playing time during our freshmen year while on JV but we were just happy to be on the team.  There were so many other negative activities available to young men in K-Town. The pull to join a gang, sell drugs was strong for so many.  It was all around us daily but basketball and my family was a sanctuary for me.  It kept me focused!

Aunt Betty was the only family member to ever watch me play basketball game during my senior year.  I remember the game, parent’s night.  All of the games started at 3:30 during the weekdays.  My grandfather and grandmother had regular 8-5 jobs and would not get home until the 6:00 or 6:30.

Most of our parents did not attend games. Most of our parents worked in blue-collar positions. As young people of that era we knew they had to work and their attendance was not mandatory to us. They could not take off time from work to watch us play.  Imagine one of our parents informing one their supervisors; “My son is playing in a basketball game this evening and I need to leave at 2:30 in order to make his 3:30 game.” Surely a pink slip would await that parent the next day! We never thought about asking our parents to take off work to watch us play. Still, at the Crane High School games it was standing room only!

Aunt Betty and I had many conversations.  Most of our conversations took place late in the evenings. Most of the conversations revolved around me refraining from getting young girls pregnant!  Aunt Betty stressed to me that I didn’t need that in my life and to focus on going to college. “Little Henry, make something out of yourself by going to college and getting an education,” Aunt Betty would say.  “You know this is what Mamma and Daddy want for you.”

It was her way of saying there is more in life waiting for you and don’t delay the realization of your destiny or purpose in life by bringing kids into the world that you are not capable to taking care of with young girls you don’t intend on marrying.

I can still see her face as she shared her thoughts and insights about the disappointment my grandparents would feel if I brought a child into the world while I was still a child myself. The shame and disappointment was a very heavy burden to carry for a young mind. But Aunt Betty broke it down to me and it made sense.

For some reason, I always knew our conversations were meant for my ears only and so I never shared the conversations with anyone else.  I kept them close to my young mind and heart and often reflected on them.

My family played out the strong hand, the royal flush of guilt, shame, and fear of disappointing them. The hand was played with love though. And it worked. What game might I be playing right now today without that strong suit played out years ago?

June 4^th, 2010, “Searching Outside Of The Family For Similar Values”, Coach Brown, my conflicts continue!

What high school should we attend? Crane High School was our only consideration.  That’s where all of the “ballers” went so we followed.

Some of my middle school teachers wanted me to go to other more “academically challenging” high schools. I know they were well meaning but they didn’t understand my connection with Ernest.

My grandfather purchased our first home farther out west of the city.  The area was called, “K-Town”, mainly because many of the streets started with a “K”, Keeler, and Kostner etc.  We lived on Jackson Blvd. In the summer of 1972 we packed and moved into our new home.

“K-Town” was an area of Chicago that never felt like home. Constantly on edge, we waited for the next crisis.

I wondered if my grandfather did any research on the area? Why he would purchase our first home in such an area?

I did befriend many youth in the area. The first day at our new house a youth who was my age came to our front porch and introduced himself. Romero was his name and he lived just two houses down from us.

We made small talk for while. “Do you like basketball?” Romero asked me. “Yes I do.” Romero invited me to play with him at the local playground just a few blocks away.  We played one-on-one for a while.

“Okay,” Romero said. “I’ve had enough! Where did you learn to play ball like that?”

I told him about Fink’s influences, Ernest, and the local legends that we had in my former community. But mainly I mentioned the time spent practicing and that I would be trying out for the team at Crane High School. Crane’s basketball reputation was known throughout Chicago.

“Man, Crane always has great ballers! Do you think you are going to make the team?” “I don’t know but I will try out for JV team this upcoming school year, my freshman year.”

Romero was instrumental in introducing me to all of the local basketball players. Some were gang members and they liked me right away because of my basketball skills.   They all wanted me on their teams during pick up games.  As I got older I knew I used basketball as a safety net. The gang leaders all loved basketball too and admired good ballers.  I got to know most of them.

Romero and I were once robbed at gunpoint. We were so scared and mad! We didn’t recognize the two young men but all we would have had to do was to find out their names, then report the incident to some of the gang leaders we knew.  Restitution would have been resolved by gang rules. Romero and I were not the gun carrying type so we let the whole incident go!

But the amount of money and our bruised egos were not worth someone’s life.  Imagine a high school freshman having two different codes of honor. Grandfather’s code; the gang code. Why should a child have to choose? But choose I did.

The area was full of gangs and drive-by shootings.  During the summer months, there was a least one a week.  I felt like I was a soldier (or civilian) in the rice paddies during the Vietnam War!

June 1^st, 2010, “Searching Outside Of The Family For Similar Values”, The Coaches at Crane High School and my conflicts continue!