I was elected class president in 1948 at Holden Street Elementary School (the first elementary school for Black students in Orlando). Although no one in my family had ever attended college, I was identified as being bright because I could read in the first grade. That’s my first elected position. I was also very active in school politics. I was president of the NAACP, and I played football.
From 1953 to 1956, I was one of the Black paper boys for the New Pittsburgh Courier (a weekly African-American newspaper). We picked up our papers at five o’clock in the morning in the heart of the Black community.
I spent three years in the Army. I wanted to be an officer. I thought I was supposed to be an officer. Ain’t no doubt in my military mind. I was competitive. This was during the height of the Vietnam War. I would have died in order to become an officer. I sent my papers to (Officer Candidate School) four times, and they sent them back.
When I tell you something, if you’ve got any money to bet, bet that I’m telling you the truth.
I passed two constitutional amendments (in the Florida Legislature) — one dealing with single member districting and one dealing with historic preservation. The Juneteenth legislation is my legislation. I helped bring the Florida A&M law school here (to Orlando). I helped bring Enterprise Florida and the (former) Sun Bank building.
I had a big battle with a former mayor of Orlando, Bill Frederick. When I was in the Legislature, they were going to tear the Wells’Built Hotel down. It was historically significant to me because from 1953 to 1956, I was a paper boy (there). ... I waged the war to keep it alive.
The house on the right side of the Wells’Built Museum was the home of Dr. Wells, a Black physician. When important Black people came to Orlando, they were not allowed to stay in hot pillow hotels, so Dr. Wells offered up his home. When Jackie Robinson came here in 1948, that’s where he stayed.
I was in the fourth grade. Despite the fact that I was a goody-two-shoes, me and my friend played hooky. It was the first integrated event that I can remember in my life. White boys and Black boys were chasing Jackie Robinson. I wanted to ultimately touch him. It was one of those signal events in my life. He’s a hero of mine.
I think I speak very well. I don’t write nearly as well. But I know more about Waterloo than most because I was a good history student. It was what compelled me through school. ... I never remember seeing anything about any Black soldiers in any history book that I read, and I was a decent student.
They would open the Black library on Saturdays. Ms. Jackson took me there in the second grade. I’ve never seen so many books. For a kid that loves reading, I thought I had died and gone to heaven.
We never went on welfare. I can remember when the money was very, very tight, Mama bought a potato and less than 15 or 20 cents’ worth of cheese and spiced ham. She made a casserole. Every day — I don’t know what the magic was — but Mama was able to get something for breakfast and dinner.
I don’t give a damn about my birthday or Christmas. It was just another day. But I wanted my sisters to have it. ... I remember going next door. The neighbors cut down their Christmas tree, part of it was on the trash can. I picked it up, and that was our Christmas tree.
If someone would ask, ‘Do I believe in affirmative action?’ You’re goddamn right I believe in affirmative action. Did I have the same opportunities that the white boys had? Absolutely not.
When it was time to integrate schools, white supervisors selected the very best teachers to go to the white schools. I was the first Black male to ever teach at Winter Park High School. The creme de la creme attended Winter Park High School in 1960. From there, I was selected as the first Black administrator at Rollins College. I taught African-American history for a number of years there.
When I was elected in 1982, the reason I was elected, I believe, is that I lectured about Black cowboys. Who knows anything about Black cowboys? Very few people. The next 1,000 people that pass by, ask them to name three Black cowboys. I’ll give you $1,000 for every one. Nobody knows a damn thing. Hollywood did not tell us that a third of the cowboys were Black.
In the Legislature, I asked for money for veterans to mentor innercity children. I created something called Soldiers to Scholars. If you have an honorable discharge and had no sexual violence in your history, we would pay half your rent again for 30 hours a month. ... It was a part of, I guess, my motivation for trying to do something for the Black community. I wanted male role models around Black kids. ... The program still exists. We’ve had up to 45 people at one time.
I don’t believe in making excuses. I believe in getting things done. ... The problems in the Black community are sometimes systemic problems, and you need real solutions. I don’t take a lot of bullshit answers about what’s not possible. America is hard and sometimes unfair, but there are no obstacles in America that cannot be beaten.