Sam Lacy was a sports editor and columnist for the Afro-American Newspapers.
Most of the AFRO’s readers are familiar with Sam Lacy in one way or the other. But, far away from that Hall of Fame writer is the human side. I once heard it mentioned that Sam is the most even-tempered individual I have ever met. This is true in a sense, but let me open a door to my world.
I am going to start with Sam getting upset. I was a pretty good student, but I suffered with a trifling personality that infected most boys of my age. I was in junior high school and making quite a splash in the good grades department. With my report card serving as my credentials, I used this opportunity to lay back and clown for my classmates.
My history teacher was a no-nonsense lady, and to top it off, she had taken a journalism class from Sam. She gave me a grade befitting my status of the moment, and one glance told me this grade was not going to be acceptable in the Lacy household.
Sam took one look and made a phone call. When he got off of the phone he was more than a little upset. Aside from going to school and church, the clown didn’t see daylight until the next report card.
As a young adult, I had a “hooptie” automobile. This car couldn’t do 40 miles per hour if you dropped it from a plane with no parachute. Sam was at the sport’s desk in Baltimore and living in Washington. One Saturday he had to go to the office and he borrowed my car. He had his own keys and permission wasn’t necessary, so off he went. In those days, tires had inner tubes and a flat was fixed with a patch. The tread on those tires had long since gone to rubber heaven, and if you were talking about the inner tubes it sounded like you were talking about a tribe of Indians.
He made it to Baltimore without incident, but when he emerged from the office the car was leaning to one side (flat tire). Did I mention that I had no jack? Sam borrowed a jack from one of the office workers and proceeded to change the tire in 90-degree heat that felt like 120 degrees. When he let the car down, the “maypop” spare went flat while he watched. Now the temperature of his blood matched the temperature outside. He called a towing company and asked them to send a truck with two tires. He made the purchase and dealt with the new tires (one on the rim and one in the trunk).
On the way back to D.C., it started to rain, and you guessed it, one of the other tires went flat and Sam had to change the flat in the rain. Before that could happen, he had to flag down a passing car (remember, no jack). To say he was angry when he got home is an understatement. However I stood my ground, because I didn’t tell him to take the car.
All of this explains why Sam was like a standard shift automobile. He had three gears, even-tempered, upset and angry. However, if left to me, I wouldn’t change a thing.
