Vanish Magic Magazine no. 39

STORIES FROM THE ROAD \\
BOXING ORANGES
HARRISON CARROLL
When you travel frequently,
it’s not uncommon to run
into a celebrity here and
there. They could be sitting next to
you on the airplane, at an adjacent
table at a restaurant, or even in your
audience on the trade show floor. I
was never one to intrude into their
private space, and was even annoyed
when others did so. But on one
occasion, in 1985, I had no choice. I
was compelled to intrude. It was just
outside the Hyatt Regency, in Atlanta,
Ga. I turned around, and amid a
group of people, there he was. It was
Muhammed Ali, himself.
I was a huge fan of his on several
levels. First, I remember when he won
the Olympic Gold Medal in 1960. I
remember playing his record, “I am
the Greatest”, until the grooves in
the vinyl had worn out. I remember
him defeating: Doug Jones, Alonzo
Johnson, Archie Moore, and other
notables, marching his way to defeating
Sonny Liston for the heavyweight
championship of the world. This
was a man who was willing to lose
everything rather than compromise
his principles. The United States
Government wouldn’t let him work
for three years, they threatened him
with jail. But nothing they did could
undermine his resolve.
I had followed all his fights since
he won that gold medal. I listened
to his speeches, and saw firsthand
the vitriol spewed by those who
opposed him. My respect for him as
a person grew even larger than my
respect for him as a fighter.
So, this was one time that I was
compelled to intrude. I walked over
to the group. “Excuse me, Ali? I just
want you to know that I’ve followed
your entire career and it’s an honor
to see you in person.”
This wasn’t the first time I had seen
him in person. I saw him do Buck
White, a Broadway Musical, and
again at one of his college lectures.
He did these things because, being
barred from boxing, he needed to
earn money somehow.
“What’s your name,” he asked.
“Harrison,” I replied.
He asked if I was in town for