Headline: 'ROOTS'
AUTHOR ALEX HALEY MOVED BLACKS, WHITES - AND 10-YEAR-OLD
Reporter: By Greg Freeman
Publication: ST.
LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
Last Printed: Fri., Feb. 14, 1992
Section:
WAR PAGE, Page: 1C, Edition: FIVE STAR
THE SAD NEWS of
Alex Haley's death earlier this week brought to mind a trip that my son and
I took last year to Nashville, Tenn.
Actually,
I had to go there to attend a journalism conference, and my son, William, 10,
had asked to tag along. We decided to make a road trip of it, complete with
a promise to stop in Metropolis, Ill., (''Hometown of Superman, '' signs in
the town say) on the way back.
We had attended
several workshops - with a little time for sightseeing in between - when dinnertime
came. My son had wanted to stay in the hotel room rather than hear the speaker.
But I insisted.
This
speaker was a legend, I told him. This was someone I thought he should hear.
Years from now, I told him, he'd remember the speaker.
When we saw him,
he appeared to be an unassuming sort, this speaker. He lived in Tennessee, and
journalists from Nashville told us that they weren't nearly as excited as were
some journalists from other states.
But
for me, this was a special evening. I had read ''Roots'' years ago and watched
every minute of the television miniseries in 1977. I was equally fascinated
with ''Roots II, '' the sequel, a couple of years later.
But
I had never heard Alex Haley speak. And so I waited patiently that evening,
although William was fidgety throughout the meal.
Haley's speech,
frankly, did not wow us in our seats. He spoke for more than an hour. His speaking
style was less than fiery. I remember someone commenting that his talk sounded
more like tales that someone would tell to family members while sitting in a
porch swing than a speech to a group of journalists.
But
I suspected that Haley's style was the same, regardless of the audience. He
was, after all, a writer, not a speaker. And he talked about what he had written
and the projects he was working on.
He
talked about his family. ''Roots'' had been about his father's family. But Haley
had since done research on his mother's family.
He
talked for some time about his family and what he had learned in his digging,
which mysteries he had cleared up, what it meant to him.
William
fidgeted some more. ''Shhh, '' I said. ''Listen.''
And Haley regaled
us with more information about his family - great-great aunts and other family
members.
And
most important of all, I thought, he told us how he did his digging - how he
painstakingly checked records and documents, as well as how he had done his
homework by talking to relatives and recording their conversations.
Around 10:15 p.m.,
Haley's speech appeared to be winding down. When he finished his speech, he
spent another 20 minutes or so answering questions.
Haley
patiently took every question. Although his answers were considerably longer
than the questions, the audience was fascinated with the information that he
had.
And at the end
of the program, I felt a sense of pride that my son - that wriggly, fidgety
10-year-old who had wanted to go back to our hotel room - went up and got Alex
Haley's autograph.
''He
was long - but he was interesting, '' William said.
The
decision to bring him along to listen to one of the greats had been worthwhile.
There was a certain
sense of irony that Alex Haley died during Black History Month. Haley - perhaps
more than anyone else in this century - let us know the importance of black
history. Not just the history of the well-known but the everyday person as well.
His
efforts went a long way toward making African-Americans realize the importance
of their family histories. For blacks - a people who, in most cases, cannot
trace our families back beyond slavery - Haley provided a realization that all
was not lost, that African-Americans still have a history in this country that
is as significant as that of anyone else.
For other Americans,
Haley provided a greater awareness of individual histories than ever before.
Haley's efforts touched off a whole new interest in genealogy.
For
that, we can be grateful to this man, who shared his own family - Kunta Kinte,
Chicken George and the rest - with all of us.
COPYRIGHT © 1992, ST. LOUIS POST-DISPATCH
Daniel Schesch - Webweaver