Headline: POST'S
"GO-TO GUY" DID THINGS HIS OWN WAY
Reporter: By Sylvester Brown Jr.
Publication: ST.
LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
Last Printed: Sun., Jan. 5, 2003
Section: SPECIAL SECTION, Page: E4, Edition: FIVE STAR LIFT
I wish I had called Greg Freeman a couple of weeks ago. I have had this idea for a book that centers on a black columnist working for a major daily newspaper. Immediately, I thought of Greg, not just because he was a black guy at a daily newspaper who could provide valuable information and insight, but because I knew he'd listen and offer whatever help he could. That's just who he was, and that will be the way I will always remember him.
Greg had the unenviable
position of being the most visible black face at the Post-Dispatch. That role
came with its blessings and its curses. He wasn't just a man with a job at a
major newspaper. He was forced many times, to be the black man who "spoke
for blacks" at a white newspaper. Blacks looked to him to express their
anger and their frustration with the inequalities of society. Many unfairly
criticized him for not being "black enough" or "angry enough."
Greg
also became the black man whites turned to at the Post to express their feelings
about African-Americans. In a polarized city with little social or economic
interaction, many whites used Greg as a mini-lens into black life, black thought
and black interaction. Unlike his white counterparts, Greg was expected to magically
have the answers and explanations for the thoughts and behaviors of all people
of his hue.
I respect the fact that Greg never allowed outsiders to place him in a box based on their perceptions, life experiences or fears. Greg did his own thing in his own way. He listened and helped when he could. He managed to address the concerns of blacks, whites, bigots and liberals - but he did it in his own way. He took us to a place of equal standing. He took us to the doorstep of racism, segregation, sexism and illness by going there himself. By writing about his home, his wife, his son, his cat, his city, his illnesses and his fears, he allowed us to momentarily take the accusatory finger off of each other and experience life at his side. He handled our hang-ups and our fears with great grace.
There were times
when I felt that I was writing in Greg's shadow. He set the tone for many black
columnists in St. Louis because he was the most recognizable one. Whether being
criticized or lauded, my writing was often compared to whatever Greg said or
didn't say. Greg never seemed to let any differences bother him. He took the
time to let me know that he respected my opinion and valued my input.
I
wish I had called Greg when the urge struck me. The thought that I will never
have another conversation with him saddens me. I'm not sure that I let him know
that I respected him and the way he handled the dual burden of being the black
go-to guy at the Post. I'll never be sure that he knew that I admired the way
he fought his illnesses by helping others with theirs. I'm saddened that I didn't
say "Thank you, Greg, for sharing your life with us." I'll always
regret not letting him know that it's an honor being in his shadow and that
his shadow will always serve as a kind and gentle reminder of a great heart
and a great and gifted man.
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