My Paris summer was a lot of things, from amazing in terms of five-ringed and French encounters to profound for life experiences while restoring faith in many aspects of the Olympic Family, a welcome change after Rio challenges and Tokyo's pandemic left me dismayed.
With an abundance of stories to share, including two drafted but unpublished posts from the final days of the torch relay and the dazzling albeit drizzly opening ceremony (and hundreds of photos and Paris 2024 micro-moment impressions to share), I've struggled to decide how to get back to blogging, procrastinating around real-life and client work since August.
That stops now with notes on two fresh fine art exhibitions underway at Atlanta's High Museum of Art, which kindly hosted me for media previews for both options.
First arranged and unveiled at the Chicago Art Institute, the exhibition features around 100 works, including several longtime favorites by the Wisconsin-born multimedia artist as well as several "new to my eyes" works from private collections or remote museums not yet experienced.
"This exhibition offers the wonderful opportunity to highlight this important but perhaps unrecognized period of O'Keeffe's artistic life and demonstrate how [works] exemplify her innovation as a Modernist," said High Director Rand Suffolk.
Showstopping works include:
Taos Pueblo, which vividly captures the New Mexico destination circa 1929, on loan from the Eiteljorg Museum of Indianapolis
A Celebration, at right, featuring all the clouds about which Jonie Mitchell sang, from Seattle Art Museum
The Shelton With Sunspots, inserted atop this blog post, featuring O'Keeffe's home and studio address atop Manhattan from which many other urban works originated, here from Chicago Art Institute
The massive (seven feet tall) canvas Manhattan with a Rockefeller Center-like ivory tower affixed with pink, red and lilac roses in town from the Smithsonian American Art Museum in Washington (don't miss the delicate pencil and ink artist sketch also on view nearby)
The exhibition's rich catalog from Yale University Press, edited by Chicago Arts Institute colleagues Sarah Kelly Ohler and Annelise K. Madsen, includes essays that detail O'Keeffe's daily life in Manhattan with a skyscraper vantage point.
Trust me, you'll thank yourself for making time to view this exhibition.
Meanwhile, also on view through Jan. 19 the High presents "Giants: Art from the Dean Collection of Swizz Beatz and Alicia Keys."
Like the O'Keeffe gathering, this private collection presentation -- on its only Southeast stop after debuting at the Brooklyn Museum -- features about 100 works.
Standout works include Kehinde Wiley's floor-to-ceiling portraits of the collection's namesake owners, coastal views by Barkley L Hendricks, an untitled work by Jean-Michel Basquiat, and several photos by Gordon Parks, including multiple portraits of Muhammad Ali only a few years after his Olympic feats at Rome 196o.
Another set of monumental canvases titled "A Puzzled Revolution" by Titus Kaphar blends likenesses of Ali's knockout of Sonny Liston with riffs from other icons like the nautical crew in "Watson and the Shark."
Across the room, be sure to spend time with "You Shouldn't Be the Prisoner of Your Own Ideas" featuring a quilt-like assemblage of used jail uniforms arranged by Hank Willis Thomas.
And around another corner, there's a small batch of BMX bikes (a reminder of their recent addition to the Paris Olympic cycling competition) and music studio production equipment. Word!
The final gallery also features four large portraits of dancers or gymnasts resembling Simone Biles, with the exhibit bookended by another giant -- the collection's largest -- Wiley canvas.
About 10 years ago I started compilation of a most-loved "Big Song List."
Of the 2,850 tunes saved to date, few artists enjoyed as many or more noted works as Sinead O'Connor, who sadly died earlier this month.
Reflecting on her passing and my personal journey with her catalog brought to mind three introductory encounters with the Irish singer.
Like tens of millions of fellow fans, my first brush with O'Connor's powerful voice and iconic gaze arrived in early 1990. The new decade had just opened, and on a mid-winter weekend to attend a Rotary Teen Leadership Retreat held near the Marland Mansion in Ponca City, Okla. (hometown of 1960 Olympic gold medal wrestler Shelby Wilson), Sinead first appeared.
In my shared room for the weekend, MTV was the only decent channel for a 17-year-old, and on the night of our arrival "Nothing Compares 2 U" was in heavy rotation. And, oh, my God, it was captivating! (In those days we did not abbreviate OMG!)
Memorable was the visual alternation from pensive garden strolls to tight, tearful closeups of O'Connor's hypnotic eyes, which climactically spill over as the song crescendos, a scene later replicated twice my Margot Robbie, first in the title role of "I, TONYA" (reviewed here) then again as the lead "Barbie" -- but I think directors of Sinead's video took their cue from Glenn Close's final scene in 1988's "Dangerous Liaisons."
The video inspired discussion among the impressionable teen attendees before and after the event's keynote speaker, prominent Oklahoma businessman Vince Orza, presented his remarks.
The 1990s and early 2000s provided further opportunities to get acquainted with Sinead's work. I purchased a cassette of "I Do Not Want What I Haven't Got" and received "Universal Mother" at Christmas 1994.
Between the acquisitions, the famous "Saturday Night Live" incident occurred, which I missed in real-time, later citing SNL skits of preceding and following weeks among my favorites. Not surprisingly, NBC.com is experiencing "technical issues" preventing clip access.
By the early 2000s, my career started to gel in Atlanta, with The Tabernacle -- an historic downtown church restored as a concert hall in time for the 1996 Olympics -- emerging as a media relations client. When O'Connor performed for a packed house there in 2007, attending was a no-brainer, and she put on a fantastic show for which apparently few recall the exact setlist.
After the intimate concert, dozens of fans including myself lined up in the parking lot, cautiously optimistic for an autograph or photo.
She had indeed, replying in her friendly and softspoken voice that she lived here with "her boy" (her youngest?) for a spell. In retrospect, it's possible her "boy" in this context was an agent who, years later, she referenced in her autobiography as a frequent guest of Atlanta's thriving strip club scene.
Now, nearly 16 years later, I don't recall much more from the conversation except that she not only made, but also sustained for more than a minute, sincere and smiling eye contact for our entire chat, which was very powerful. She also had a firm handshake as she thanked me and moved on to the next fan with her black Sharpie pen on the ready.
I also came to respect what came next. Excited by the surroundings and eager to pose another question (and to attempt a second autograph, this time with my Sinead cassette liner notes), I stood in line again while she spoke with others, eventually asking what became my standard query of other celebrities: What's been your experience related to the Olympics?
Sinead politely paused with another fan, turned my direction and softly admonished me, "Now, please, I was able to answer your question earlier and now it is another person's turn (implying so let's not spoil it for them,while motioning to my already-signed ticket, as though to state, "sorry, only one to a customer").
Message received, I smiled back and sincerely thanked her again while making space for others to interact. And then she turned to board a bus and exited the scene.
Over the years of sharing this story, it's set a high bar for other A-list conversations, also shaping how I respect other fans in those moments.
Flash forward to October 2019, when a pair of Sinead concerts went on sale scheduled for March 22 and 23 at City Winery Atlanta the following year. Lucky me, I snapped up one front section seat for each evening ... at a bargain price of $105 each! Would this pair of events provide an option for long-awaited follow-up questions?
Sadly, by March 12, 2020, the world shut down due to COVID-19, and both shows got rescheduled for June 2021 only to be indefinitely postponed again. Reading her autobiography "Rememberings" was small consolation -- on the last page she wrote, "I've decided to start school in autumn 2020 and go out on tour again (I hope) in the summer of 2021." Regretably, that never happened.
Through the arc of these 1990-to-present experiences, O'Connor's religion shapeshifting resonated with me. Here's another person who grew up with questions about organized religion and tested the waters with several.
Her book and archived interviews delve into her personal journeys with Catholicism, Judaism, Christianity and Islam, which she Tweeted, "This is the natural conclusion of any intelligent theologian's journey" according to news reports.
And in 2019, upon viewing Natalie Portman's role as a pop star with serious issues in "Vox Lux" I could not help wondering the extent to which O'Connor's roller coaster career impacted the writers and performers.
Some did compare Portman's and Sinead's shaved heads back in the day and more recently. The former's fictional media interviews in the film definitely are reminiscent of the latter's real life media convos. When given the chance to one day speak with Portman, I'll be sure to ask.
During summer of 2017, while traveling in New Jersey, reports of O'Connor's post from a Hackensack Travelodge gave pause. Which brings us to the now.
My third time "meeting" O'Connor arrived these last few days since the BBC and other international news organizations announced her death. With each tribute post or report, such as NPR's summary of O'Connor's career, I started learning about fantastic recordings by Sinead that proved new to my ears or not heard in years.
Here's are a few notes from by "Big Song List" favorites and/or the recent discoveries marked with an asterisk:
"Oh, I love you.God, I love you. I'd kill a dragon for you. I'll die, but I will rise. And I will return: The Phoenix from the flame! I have learned, I will rise, and you'll see me return, being what I am. There is no other Troy for me to burn."
Heroine, with The Edge, for the film "The Messenger." Bring me into your arms again.
Feel So Different, ... taught me the "Serenity Prayer" and a few other things. Started off with many friends and we spent a long time talking. I thought they meant every word they said, but like everyone else, they were stalling.
Drink Before the War, with these contemplative lyrics ... admonishing an unnamed someone at the top of her lungs:
"And your parents paid you through, You got a nice big car - nothing bothers you. Somebody cut out our eyes, you refuse to see, ah, Somebody cut out your heart, you refuse to feel. And you live in a shell, you create your own hell. You live in the past and talk about war. And you dig your own grave, yeah, but its a life you can save, oh, So stop getting fussed, it's not gonna happen. And you'll cry, but you'll never fall, no, no, no. You're building a wall. Gotta break it down, start again."
The Emperor's New Clothes, which O'Connor referenced in the April 5, 2020, epilogue to her autobiography. Of Donald Trump she wrote, aptly frustrated, "None of the reporters ever ask him, 'Sir, what is wrong with you?' Negligence ... and it goes on and on. No matter what he does."
Last Day of Our Acquaintance, which, if the mood is right, I quote to fellow passengers after boarding and fastening my seatbelt on flights: "I know you don't love me anymore." At least once, the person next to me replied with the rest of that lyrical sentence, "You used to hold my hand when the plane took off." Then we laughed, until deplaning with, "I'll meet you later in someone's office."
*V.I.P., one of her last songs, through which Sinead rhetorically asked fellow celebrities (specifically, Miley Cyrus and her peers, perhaps):
"To whom exactly are we giving hope, when we stand behind the velvet rope, or get our pictures taken with the pope, like some sick April fool's kind of joke?"
On the day of Sinead's passing, one of my close friends quipped that he knew of no obvious O'Connor Olympic connection for a tribute by this five-ringed blogger. Inspired and challenged by his comment, I searched for and found two, the first of which tops this post. It's an image taken in the late 1980s at Dublin's popular Olympic Ballroom.
The other regards Sinead's starstruck notes in her "Rememberings" chapter titled "The Greatest Love of All." This is my favorite section for the apex of joy it seemed to deliver, and it tethers to various memorial posts logged on this site in 2016.
"The most incredible experience I ever had, apart from having children, was meeting Muhammad Ali," wrote O'Connor. "Not only did I meet him, but myself and my eldest son, Jake, escorted him to the Special Olympics in Dublin in 2003."
In her description of that Rome Olympian encounter she later wrote, "That guy is my biggest hero ever" (her quote to Jon Bon Jovi, who set up the Ali introduction and, indirectly, inspired the moment of conception of O'Connor's fourth son, Shane, whose full name includes the Olympic champion's nom du guerre). Through this chapter, O'Connor at once poignantly and accidentally sets the joyful antithesis of her son's later suicide. It's a happy chapter, though tough to read with that later context. Another cheerful and insightful version of her Ali encounter appears in this Equire article from that time in their lives.
To wrap up this tribute post of appreciation, scroll down for an Irish all-star assemblage courtesy of "The Late Show with David Letterman" archive.
Only Sinead could get away with laughing in Van Morrison's face. Brilliant!
Top photo from Dublin's Olympic Ballroom via The New York Times and Independent Newspapers Ireland/Getty Images. Jan Hooks/SNL photo via NBC. Ali photo via AP/Esquire/Getty Images. Ticket photo by Nicholas Wolaver. Tabernacle photo by Robb D. Cohen via AJC.com. "Rememberings" jacket designed by Mark Robinson w/photo by Herb Ritts via Houghton Mifflin Harcourt. "Vox Lux" image via IMDB.
When PBS premiered the three-part documentary "Hemingway" from Ken Burns and Lynn Novick in April, the network also teased "Muhammad Ali" set to debut Sept. 19.
The trailer brought to mind another network's slogan: "Must See TV."
Reminders also arrived printed on monthly statements from Bank of America, the lead corporate funder of the boxing legend project reportedly in the works for more than five years. Here's a trailer for those who haven't seen it:
Pretty much anything Ali -- among the most admired Olympians and individuals of all time by this blogger and billions of others -- captivates my attention, and I marked my calendar to request media access to a preview screener.
The series was worth the wait and well worth the eight hours of advance viewing time this past week, and I encourage anyone interested in history, sports, race relations, faith and understanding, inspirational narratives, the Olympics and professional boxing and/or Ali to make time for the broadcast or streaming of "Muhammad Ali."
As with other documentary deep dives for which Burns is known, this film co-directed with his daughter Sarah Burns and her husband David McMahon takes viewers on a thoroughly detailed journey of the legendary boxer's life. It's organized into four two-hour episodes titled:
"Round One: The Greatest" (1942 to 1964) on the boxer's upbringing and initial ascent to stardom
"Round Two: What's My Name?" (1964 to 1970) framing the fighter's professional feats and struggles to defend his beliefs including his faith-based name change
"Round Three: The Rivalry" (1970 to 1974) showcasing legendary bouts with Joe Frazier, and
"Round Four: The Spell Remains" (1974 to 2016) detailing the peaks, valleys, challenges and opportunities experienced by the champ in his later years.
Many narratives about Ali rely on his Olympic successes of 1960 and 1996 as "bookends" and the new documentary also employs this format. Therefore, it was not surprising that most of the boxer's Rome 1960 feats were already packaged and revealed only 35 minutes into Episode One.
The film delivers surprises including new-to-my-eyes images from the 1960 Olympic trials at San Francisco's Cow Palace, footage of ABC's Jim McKay in his first Olympic broadcast gig (foreshadowing The Champ's later "Wide World of Sports" clips), and celebrities or fellow Olympians with whom Ali connected as he became the unofficial Olympic Village "mayor."
Also pleasing through all four episodes was an original score by Jahlil Beats and soundtrack selections from Beyonce, Marvin Gaye, James Brown, Ray Charles and The Rolling Stones, among others. Narration by Keith David -- whose voice some may recognize for the question "Is it the frank or the beans?" in "There's Something About Mary" -- also caught my attention.
In addition to Games-related moments or players, I was looking for more details about Atlanta's role in Ali's return to fighting after his ban for conscientious objection (a timeline detail first learned through the city's Civil Rights Tour a few years ago).
The film delivered the city's first major cameo about an hour and 40 minutes into Episode Two, with grainy Channel 2 footage of interviews with local yokels, Ali's weigh-in and fight with Jerry Quarry at Atlanta Municipal Auditorium, and Coretta Scott King's post-bout presentation of a Dr. Martin Luther King Memorial Award (spoiler alert: she appears again in footage from July 19, 1996).
In a five-ringed sense, "Muhammad Ali" ultimately includes Olympians Ali, his final Rome opponent (1956 and 1964 Olympic bronze medalist Zbigniew Pietrzykowki of Poland), Wilma Rudolph, Rafer Johnson, boxers Frazier (1964 Tokyo), George Foreman (Mexico City 1968) and Leon Spinks (Montreal 1976). Nods are also given for Dr. Tommie Smith and John Carlos as well as Michael Johnson.
Later, in the footage of Ali lighting the Olympic Cauldron in Atlanta, Evander Holyfield (Los Angeles 1984) and Olympic swimming champion Janet Evans also appear without commentary, as did brief reference to Jesse Owens. Off-camera contributions also are credited to Bob Costas, Dick Ebersol, the USOPC and IOC. International Society of Olympic Historians (ISOH) was not engaged, according to Burns' spokesperson. A full list of historian and other expert contributors appears in the "Muhammad Ali" press release and IMDB page.
By the time the teenage Cassius Clay enjoyed a congratulatory Olympic champion parade through downtown Louisville, he already had 100 other boxing wins under his belt. This stat sets up an easy segue for Burns & Co. to next unfurl about seven hours of non-Olympic history before the Games' return in Episode Four.
This documentary taught me a lot about Ali while reminding me of -- or filling in a few blanks during -- the arcs of his career that earned the respect and adulation of millions (and later billions) juxtaposed with loathing condemnation of others. I knew of Ali's biggest fights and had seen footage from some of them but did not know the detailed back-stories for each bout, and some of them are fascinating.
The film delves into Ali's evolving faith and its impact both personally and on the public through the Civil Rights Movement and antiwar sentiments as his star rose. Burns' eight-hour compendium also succeeds when it reveals Ali's very human choices in respect to sins of vanity and adultery, and the filmmakers are generous when reporting on Ali's generosity to charities large and small. His outrageous youthful taunts are balanced later with humble reckonings informed by age and experience.
In an email exchange with the publicist for Mr. Burns, I asked about what, if any, biggest surprises about Ali's Olympic endeavors were revelations for the filmmakers.
"The[re] weren't revelations but just appreciating how young [Ali] was in 1960 was extraordinary," wrote the spokesperson. "And of course the grace with which he handled the Olympics in 1996."
Indeed the scenes of Ali on July 19 a quarter-century ago are moving. In an informative promotional webinar conversation for the film held on that anniversary two months ago, Burns spoke about the film while Evans, the penultimate 1996 Olympic torchbearer, shared insights from the experience of meeting Ali in front of 3 billion people.
"If this is a film about freedom, it is also a film about courage," said Burns. "From the start we wanted to humanize him."
Though Evans was not interviewed for "Muhammad Ali" she shared perspective on the "Conversations" episode.
"When he was holding the torch it was for everyone," Evans said. "He was saying show up, be present, find your voice, tell your story, make a difference."
For all its greatness, Burns' documentary painted some broad strokes that left me wanting more detail. For instance, there's way more to the story of Ali's super-secret final torchbearer designation, and more time and interviews -- with Evans or Ambassador Andrew Young, who loves telling his story of time spent with Ali on July 19, 1996 -- could have easily filled in viewers with more perspective on that glorious reveal on the big night.
I also found it hokey that only seconds into his stadium entrance footage, the soundtrack for "Muhammad Ali" swells with an ill-timed cue for "I'll Take The Long Road" by Naomi Shelton & The Gospel Queens (love this song, mind you, but viewers could do without the guitar distracting from the drama of the real life moment that launched billions of gasps).
Also, how could a filmmaking team that did such a deep dive on Country music resist mentioning how Ali's semi-autobiographical 1977 feature film "The Greatest" later inspired Whitney Houston to record one of her biggest hits "The Greatest Love of All" despite objections from producer Clive Davis? Was this an oversight (I doubt it)? A recording rights or royalties issue (maybe)?
I was also hopeful the film would include Ali's later Olympic moments, like lighting the first torch of the 2002 Winter Olympic torch relay at Centennial Olympic Park in Atlanta. Mitt Romney was there and could have spoken with Burns about Ali's selection for this honor, which built on a tradition established with Rafer Johnson in 1984/1996. Mention of Ali's final Olympic appearance at the London Olympic Opening Ceremony in 2012 also made my wish list but did not survive editing (if ever it was considered).
Burns & Co. seemed more interested in rushing to other conclusions, even cutting short footage from the star-studded memorial service with speeches by President Bill Clinton, Bryant Gumble, Billy Crystal and several faith leaders watched by 1 billion worldwide. Will I be the only Sept. 2021 "Muhammad Ali" viewer who thought Burns' team could or should have included more than one minute of funeral procession footage? Only time will tell.
Zero inclusion of the IOC's presentation of a replacement Olympic medal in Atlanta was a head-scratcher, too. Was this "boring" to the production and writing team? Or filmmaker indifference?
Perhaps a clue to the answer arrived in their spokesperson's response to a question about other documentary filmmakers (Leni Riefenstahl, Bud Greenspan) with Olympic-inspired connections.
Q: "What aspects of your [Ali] research may inspire you to revisit the Olympic Movement through your filmmaking in the future?"
A: "There is no plan to do a film on the Olympic Movement."
Bummer -- that's a hard "no" on any potential "Ken Burns effect" treatment for Baron Pierre de Coubertin.
But almost everyone has an Ali story or moment to share, and to their credit the Florentine Films team covers all the right bases without getting distracted by some populist options.
This preview/review thus results with a split decision in favor of and highly recommending "Muhammad Ali" by Burns, Burns and McMahon -- definitely must-see TV even for those who may still hunger for more of The Greatest.
Promo image via PBS; Ali image in Rome via uncredited Pinterest post; Ali with Howard Bingham and Janet Evans by "PA" via Irish News; Ali fighting Quarry in Atlanta via Joe Holloway, Jr. of AP and this WABE link; Coretta Scott King with Ali via The King Center's Twitter feed; Ali with Mitt Romney via Chris Stanford/Getty Images in Harvard Law Bulletin; Neil Liefer/Getty Images via About Photography Blog. Photos of Ken Burns by Evan Barlow, Sarah Burns by Michael Lionstar and David McMahon by Sarah Burns courtesy of PBS Pressroom.
Before last week's terrible news from Orlando -- which gave me cause to pause in posting to this site for several days -- I applied for a media credential to attend the Muhammad Ali Memorial Service in Louisville.
Though it was only a week before, even then seems like a simpler time. If only the Florida attacker had invested his energy in learning Ali's many positive messages, things may have been better.
With press pass access granted just a couple of days before the June 10 service in Kentucky (about 400 miles north), there were only a handful of hours to plan a trek to Louisville to celebrate and report on The Greatest.
For posterity, the following includes 12 rounds of highlights from the 36-hour Ali Memorial experience.
ROUND ONE: Preparation and the Drive North
A car rental was necessary as my own vehicle has a recently-diagnosed bald tire unfit for the 850-mile round-trip journey to Ali's hometown.
Always eager to make the most of time on the road, I reserved an audio book copy of "The Soul of a Butterfly: Reflections on Life's Journey" -- an Ali autobiography -- at the Atlanta-Fulton Public Library. Learning about The Champ in his words brought better context for many of the interfaith remarks presented in eulogies later in the week.
Skilled at packing light, it was satisfying to quickly fill an overnight bag before departing Atlanta around 5:30 p.m. Thursday, on track for a midnight arrival.
Sadly, around Lake Altoona (45 miles northwest of Atlanta), I discovered my suit and tie remained hanging in my apartment closet, so a 90 minute round-trip return home threw off my "easy" journey.
Ultimately, it was 3:30 a.m. Friday when my head hit the hotel pillow, dog tired.
ROUND TWO: Before Sunrise
Upon check-in at my Louisville hotel, the desk manager at the Cottonwood Suites Louisville Fair & Expo Center informed me most downtown streets would close by 8:30 a.m. Tuesday for the Ali funeral processional.
My wake-up call and alarm clock, therefore, started ringing before 7 a.m. to beat the traffic into the center of the city.
Dog tired, I showered then dressed while watching several Ali family members' taped interviews on local morning news -- sort of a crash course in who's who of the Ali entourage. This proved incredibly helpful only a couple of hours later. I was also thankful for retrieval of the suit and dress slacks the previous evening.
ROUND THREE: Media Check-In
Though I had previously driven through Louisville a dozen times from 2012 to 2015, no itinerary provided time to explore the city's central streets, which I had only briefly visited in the early 2000's with Fort Knox-based friends Meghan and Luis.
The northbound drive along the main road Dixie Highway reminded me of Lincoln Blvd. in Oklahoma City or Atlanta's Buford Highway for the mix of historic structures and businesses new or long-since forgotten.
Downtown impressed me for its thriving destinations and restaurants. Louisville is easy to navigate and I reached my destination -- the Marriott -- in no time.
Thank goodness for the overnight tip about the road closures, the first of many serendipitous conversations in town.
I'm convinced my car was among the last to get into downtown without road blocks. Parking was a breeze in a deck just west of the hotel, and it was reassuring the vehicle would remain secure while the rest of the day would be spent walking from one Ali event destination to the next.
Media check-in was straightforward. Hundreds of chairs remained in the hotel ballroom from the week's many Ali-related press conferences.
The Ali P.R. team informed me about 1,500 reporters got a badge (with hundreds more turned away), and reporters from six continents traveled to the event, mostly from Europe and Asia.
I spoke with national sports reporters from Germany, France and China, and that was only in line for check-in.
It turned out the Marriott was also the staging area for V.I.P. check-ins, and the rallying point for the Ali funeral motorcade.
So only moments after donning my press pass, I found myself snapping photos, first of Ali's daughters and second wife (spotted on those earlier morning TV newscasts), then of some of Ali's pallbearers, including Will Smith.
Professional boxers Evander Holyfield and Mike Tyson came into view before diving into awaiting Cadillac limousines and SUV's.
ROUND FOUR: The Sunny Streets of Louisville
Once the motorcade pulled away, I thought there might be time to get a coffee and make way to the KFC YUM! Center Arena, site for the 2 p.m. main event, about three blocks north.
Media were instructed that check-in access would start closer to noon, and as it was only after 9 a.m., it made sense there'd be time to walk toward the venue and maybe catch a glimpse of the citywide processional set to return downtown.
Coffee was a no-go (every establishment had 20+ people in line), but it was a beautiful and breezy clear morning, so the walk in the direction of the Ohio River was pleasant even sans beverage.
My first glimpse of the city's waterway was due north during my walk, and I wondered whether the George Rogers Clark Memorial Bridge on the horizon was the same river crossing from which Ali claimed to toss his Olympic gold medal into the water as portrayed in "The Greatest" and his autobiographies (the bridge is in the film, but Ali did not toss a medal there as the fables describe; rather, the medal was simply lost and later replaced).
There were dozens of TV trucks parked in proximity to the arena. It impressed me, during this "quiet time" on the urban stroll, that local children decorated the sidewalks with chalk butterflies and bees.
I reflected on this simple act of hospitality and remembrance while resting beneath the bridge before the action really took off.
My only regret of the morning: Not taking time to snap my own photos of the historic Art Deco bridge entry from the 1930s with a clear blue sky (the images in this section are the closest available online).
ROUND FIVE: Evander and the Media 'Scrum at the YUM!'
Though the media entrance was easy to find, locating security to provide access was not, so this blogger joined a small herd of journalists in search of arena staff.
We circumnavigated the building only to learn what we previously heard: 11 a.m. would be the earliest option to enter, so the question "how to kill time in downtown Louisville?" earned discussion.
It turned out one of the journalists, Doug, was the Associated Press' local bureau chief going on seven days of straight reporting for one of the city's all-time biggest news events. We previously corresponded only weeks before when a client sent a group of students to work at the Kentucky Derby, so we decided to visit and compare notes while searching for bottled water (a wish quickly granted by a kind Red Cross volunteer working hard to keep the growing crowds cool).
As we stood in the shade and chatted, Doug mentioned he needed a quote from a boxing peer of Ali just as, over his shoulder and across the street, I spotted Evander Holyfield walking down the street.
"Would Holyfield work?" I asked Doug, pointing in the boxer's direction.
We quickly began walking in Holyfield's direction, crossing Main Street to find a row of media tents with their risers backed up to the YUM! Turned out Evander was starting at one end of "media row" and worked his way from one live TV interview to the next, starting with ESPN, then NBC and The TODAY Show, MSNBC and other national or local affiliate pop-up newsrooms.
While awaiting our chance to corner Holyfield, there was plenty of time to visit with reporters and producers (some past and now upcoming Olympic news contacts) at a relaxed pace.
It was cool to interview Matt Lauer about the previous morning's news his TODAY co-host would skip Rio (more details from that conversation will appear in a future post).
As Holyfield exited his final TV interview, Doug and I were first in line to ask Holyfield questions (as with Lauer interview, more details of this conversation will appear in a future post).
As Doug and I took turns peppering Holyfield with questions, several more reporters circled us and the Champ spent a good 10 minutes, creating an impromptu and crowded media "Scrum at the YUM!" before Evander started signing autographs for many patient fans.
ROUND SIX: V.I.P. Arrivals
Already satisfied with the day's roster of celebrity encounters, Doug, a couple of other reporters and I next returned to the YUM! media entry. At a relaxed and air-conditioned pace, we set up our gear in the arena's NBA practice gym, which was transformed into a giant media workroom for the day.
As we were early to arrive, we also scoped out and taped-off perfect seating in media section 111 of the YUM! bowl during the sound-check, which made the whole scene feel like the calm before a rock concert.
We learned the memorial motorcade was about an hour slower than planned -- not surprising, legions of fans reached out to toss flowers and touch Ali's hearse on its journey from his youthful neighborhood to the Muhammad Ali Center a few blocks west of the arena. Additional time afforded us the option to feast on YUM! brands chips in plentiful supply (best water and Doritos-only lunch ever).
It turned out our press table neighbors from China's Xinhua News Agency included a reporter who visited my client B.C. Canada Pavilion at the City Museum during the 2008 Beijing Olympics, and we will likely visit again in Rio in a few weeks (small world).
Around 12:30, I decided to revisit that under the bridge area (site of that morning meditation). Though only a few police were standing guard and a handful of fans were curiously lingering, it was quickly established we were all in the right place at the right time for some star-studded arrivals.
Appropriately, there was no red carpet. No step and repeat. Many of the well-known arrivals waved briefly but, out of respect for the memorial theme and Ali, most did not pause to interact with "plain folks" vying for their attention. At 12:45, by my count, there were only six cops, 10 fans, four volunteers (at a makeshift check-in area) and this blogger on the scene.
By 1 p.m. it was A SCENE with hundreds of fans and dozens of cops, who moved in barricades for safety. I positioned myself next to the volunteers assigned to check tickets -- at the entry of a long tent corridor -- and no one questioned the media badge.
Here's a rundown of all who crossed our path en route to their seats (portions of this personal list later appeared as part of Doug's AP wire story of the day and its sidebar):
Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, IOC President Thomas Bach, Dave Chappelle, Chubby Checker, Common, Katie Couric, Nation of Islam leader Louis Farrakhan, Whoopi Goldberg, Larry Holmes, Rev. Jesse Jackson, Martin Luthing King, III, Matt Lauer, Spike Lee, Sugar Ray Leonard and Lennox Lewis.
Also ... Ray Lewis, Reba McEntire, Atlanta Mayor Kasim Reed, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Will Smith and Jada Pinkett-Smith and Steve Wynn, among others.
Some VIPs, including President Bill Clinton, Billy Crystal, Bryant Gumbel and others' limousines pulled directly into the YUM! parking lot or other unseen entry points.
Not listed by the AP, but spotted: Afghanistan President Hamid Karzai and former NBA coach Pat Riley.
Will Smith turned out to be the friendliest of the bunch. In addition to engaging fans, posing for selfies and signing an autograph or two, he stopped for a good 2-3 minutes to tape an interview with an ET reporter directly in front of my staked-out spot! He impressed me for his professionalism and poise on what must have been a difficult day.
It took all of my strength to refrain from asking Chappelle a pancakes/Prince question, but I bit my tongue. He was another of the arriving stars who smiled more than others.
Farrakhan had the most security -- double that of Karzai and likely more than Clinton as well.
My guess is that Goldberg attended as much in reverence to Ali as in support of her Comic Relief co-star and friend, Crystal, who was to complete some of the heaviest lifting among the event's eight eulogists.
Around 1:45 p.m., the original start time for the Memorial Service, I asked one of the volunteers and a P.R. person for the event "what is the updated start time?" receiving a reply of 3 p.m.
No one mentioned, however, a designated closing time for the media entrance, an important detail regretably absent from the conversation, as readers will learn in the next round.
ROUND SEVEN: Locked Doors
One of the last arriving VIPs was Gov. Arnold Schwarzenegger. The clock read 2:40 p.m.
Reassured about the later start time by the Ali P.R. team, I lingered near the VIP entry until about 2:45 as the media entrance was only steps around the corner of the arena. Imagine my surprise to return to said entry at 2:50 p.m. to find about 20 journalists banging loudly on the back doors of the venue!
In what proved to be the most ridiculous scene of the entire day, it turned out the "powers that be" did not schedule Secret Service nor other law enforcement to stick around for the later start time. With their shifts ending at 2:30, security packed up their gear and went to their event-time posts, we deduced.
Confounding the situation: No one on the event team conveyed to media a "hard stop-doors closed" instruction. So my China friends (outside on a smoke break), a French radio anchor, an incredulous ESPN reporter, several other late-arriving photographers (who struggled to find parking) and I found ourselves banging on the doors -- on again, off again -- for about 15 minutes.
While some continued to knock, several in the group frantically worked on calling or texting every number we had for P.R. or other persons known to be inside the venue, but most likely had their devices on "silent" as the service began.
Shaking our heads, we could not help but think of a John Candy-like guard showing up to say, "Sorry, folks. Park's closed."
ROUND EIGHT: We're In Again
Finally, at 3:10 p.m., a uniformed Louisville detective -- a cop who could be described as a "dim bulb" -- opened the door, at once stunned and flabbergasted by the number of folks awaiting his attention (we were up to 40 at this point).
One could almost see the slowly-forming thought bubble taking shape above his head to state, "What the?!?" or "Does ... not ... compute."
This guy was clearly confused, so we spelled it out slowly in three languages, loudly: "WE ARE REPORTERS AND WE NEED TO GET INSIDE!"
Things finally "computed" for Officer Brainy, so at long last he summoned a supervisor who approved our late entry. Whew! Confidence and appreciation of Louisville's finest restored!
ROUND NINE: Ali Bound for Heaven
Once inside the arena, I spent the first hour of the service at my station in the press room. In our negotiation with the police supervisor we agreed to stay at that working area in lieu of entering the memorial service in progress. But by 4 p.m., there seemed to be a changing of the guard after which taking a seat in section 111 was fine.
While taking my seat, the emcee, Imam Zaid Shakir, introduced Rabbi Michael Lerner, a Berkeley, Calif.-based spiritual leader. His remarks earned multiple standing ovations and, unfortunately, the event's only example of heckling by an audience member who opted to stop shouting when two nearby police visited his row.
One of the most interesting and surprising eulogies: Chief Sidney Hill and Chief Oren Lyons. The duo, joined by another Native American leader, spoke of a late-1970s U.S. Congressional bill that could have nullified several historic treaties. Ever the champion of important causes, Ali supported the Native Americans' fight to prevent the bill and collectively they succeeded (bravo, Ali!).
The most passionate eulogies arrived from Billy Crystal, Bryant Gumbel and President Bill Clinton.
Crystal's included just the right touch of humor and sincerity (two hours into the service he opened his remarks with, "We're at the half-way point" later followed by, "He was funny, he was beautiful, the most perfect athlete you ever saw -- and those were his own words."
Gumbel was the most appreciative. Describing a career obviously shaped by Ali, the national broadcaster shared the personal story of meeting Ali 50 years ago in Chicago, when Gumbel was 17 and happened to be shooting hoops as The Champ dropped by the neighborhood. Gumbel also paraphrased Maya Angelou, stating, "I doubt how any of us will ever forget how Ali made us feel ... I'm talking about how he gripped our hearts and our souls and our conscience, and made our fights his fights for decades."
"I'll never forget it," said Clinton. "I was sitting there in Atlanta. By then we knew each other, by then I felt I had some sense of what he was living with, and I was still weeping like a baby, seeing his hands shake and his legs shake and knowing 'by God, he was gonna make those last few steps, no matter what it took' [and] the flame would be lit, the fight would be won, the spirit would be affirmed. I knew it would happen."
ROUND TEN: In and Out at the Ali Center
Back in the press room following the service, the Associated Press team reminded me of the International Olympic Committee's plans to present a keepsake item to the nearby Muhammad Ali Center. Earlier in the day, Doug shared the IOC's press materials for the event set to take place after the Memorial Service, and by this time (approaching 6 p.m.) an Ali Center contact confirmed approval for me to attend via text.
I embarked from the KFC YUM! Center makeshift press room with Around The Rings Editor Ed Hula, and the two of us made our way on foot through the bowels of the arena (in a sea of celebrities) and down Main Street to the museum named for the day's honoree.
Inside the Ali Center we were escorted to the sixth floor event space where the Ali family and friends started gathering. Over here: Billy Crystal. Over there: Howard Bingham, Ali's closest friend.
Because of the flow of the event, and the venue's closure for the day of the Memorial Service, there was not an opportunity to explore the Ali Center in detail. But I look forward to visiting the collection again as, out of the corner of my eye, the galleries of fine art and photography of Ali by world renowned artists piqued my interest, as did the Olympic torches on view.
Hula was on a mission to speak with Olympic Champion and LA2024 vice chair/director of athlete relations, Janet Evans, who was kind enough to visit with me earlier this year in Los Angeles (stay tuned for a future post from that conversation).
On the search for Evans, Hula and I visited with the IOC's Anita DeFrantz about the presentation soon to take place, during which an Olympic flag was to be given to Lonnie Ali, family and the Center.
At one point during our wait for the presentation, a distinguished couple (a man and a woman) entered the room as I was speaking to Evans. The woman asked Evans if she would mind posing together for a photo, which the man offered to snap. In turn, I offered the photographer, "If you like, I'd be happy to take a photo of the three of you," which was politely but quickly declined (it turned out the man was Neil Leifer, who famously captured world-famous images of Ali and dozens of other athletes for Sports Illustrated).
What happened next surprised me -- bewilders me, actually. But it happened, and though things turned out fine in the end, it was extremely confusing in the moment.
The same P.R. reps who granted a credential for the day, as well as the Ali Center rep who approved museum access for the IOC presentation, decided to remove me from the event. Like I said, everything worked out in the end thanks entirely to a later apologetic Ali Center contact. It's a safe bet that Evans may have been as confused as I was by the Ali rep's behavior.
Mark Humphrey/AP via Ali Center
Though it was my intent to write about the presentation by DeFrantz and Evans, who I believe spoke on behalf of IOC President Thomas Bach, I missed the IOC ceremony.
The Ali Center rep was kind enough to share a photo (shown at left) later the same evening, which I appreciated.
Will likely spend years to come shaking my head about the Ali P.R. agency -- doors locked to media at event start time, then booting an Olympic reporter out of a five-ringed news event for which access was granted in writing by the event host? WTF!?!
ROUND ELEVEN: Evening Olympic Stroll
As a Louisville cop -- obviously satisfied to showcase his Cartman-like authoritah (lucky for me he was not Detective Brainy) -- delivered me to the Ali Center Plaza at sunset, a flurry of text messages arrived from the Ali Center rep and from Evans, both hoping I could return to the conversation and event.
Long story short, I waited patiently outside, visiting with an Arizona TV crew for PBS, fellow Atlantans from CNN and other reporters.
Eventually, a very kind, understanding and professional Evans met me post-event to complete our conversation, and we wound up walking with DeFrantz for several blocks of downtown Louisville while exchanging Ali memories (Evans describing her Olympic flame hand-off to Ali in detail) and other Olympic stories to appear in a follow-up post.
ROUND TWELVE: Don King, Steak and Ache
After saying "good night and safe travels" to DeFrantz and Evans near their hotel, I made my way back to the Marriott then searched for a restaurant, very tired and hungry after a long but productive day of incredible experiences, feeling very lucky and thankful to learn so much more about Ali during the week. My feet were in bad shape, sore from hours of moving about the city.
My weary eyes could hardly believe it when an additional knockout memory of the day walked into the scene: Mr. Don King.
The 84 year old legendary boxing promoter had just finished his meal in the main dining room, and he kindly posed with several diners and the restaurant's live jazz band, who all toasted Ali as "The Greatest" one more time.
Image credits: Ali Hearse by Adrees Latif/Reuters; road trip via Google Maps; Skyline/Marriott via Kentucky Tourism; under bridge via Flickr; Event tickets via this link; John Candy in "Vacation" via IMDB; police badge via Yahoo! All other photos by Nicholas Wolaver copyright Nicholas Wolaver may not be used without written permission.
A public relations executive by day, small-time eBayer by night and weekends, lifetime member of the International Society of Olympic Historians (ISOH) and full-time Olympic enthusiast who also looks at "BoingBoing-style" unusual news with interest. Please e-mail me at olympiada@yahoo.com or if you can't get enough try my Facebook page http://www.facebook.com/people/Nicholas_Wolaver/713593008
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