Of the legendary “Gang of Four” (David Dinkins, Basil Paterson, Percy Sutton, and Charles “The Lion” Rangel), only the latter two were acquaintances who transcended journalistic boundaries. All of them, at one time or another during my generation on the beat for the AmNews, were popular and productive enough to earn coverage in these pages and interviews with me.
My relationship with Sutton and Rangel began on a critical note, each taking exception to something I had written. Sutton chastised me for leaving out some important information that would have given my story more balance and insight. When I was summoned to Rangel’s office in the State Office Building one day many years ago, even before he pointed out an error I had made, it was hard to take my eyes off the huge portrait of J. Raymond Jones, “The Harlem Fox,” his mentor, which added to my consternation.
Relationships that started on a sour note were apparently soon forgotten by these giants of the community, and I made amends by paying closer attention to the details, particularly when an issue pertained to them. After covering Sutton over several decades, I finally found the courage to ask him to write the foreword to my biography of Sugar Ray Robinson, who at one time was one of his clients. One paragraph from that foreword came to mind with the passage of the “Lion of Lenox Avenue” this week.
Sutton wrote, “When I with a large body of help from Congressman Charles Rangel, placed time, money and energy of my own, my family, and my company–Inner City Broadcasting Corporation — into the rehabilitation of the Apollo Theater in the early 1980s until 1992, some of the intent was to revive a community that had slumped considerably after Sugar Ray’s enterprises were no longer available to inspire. In fact, the Apollo and Sugar Ray can be compared in the sense that each was, for a while, a singular lodestar that drew millions of visitors to Harlem. And during those years in which they existed simultaneously, the allure was undeniable. Thanks, Charlie Rangel; thanks, Harlem; thanks, Sugar Ray and Lady Edna Mae.”
As you can see, Sutton was as gifted a writer as he was an astute entrepreneur and politician. In many ways, Rangel was his equal in words and praise when he wrote the foreword to my manuscript about the history of Harlem. Rangel wrote:
“When Herb asked me to write a Foreword to this book, a veritable compendium of Harlem’s illustrious history and legacy, I accepted without hesitation because he is a friend and a colleague. I have known him for more than a generation, and I’ve followed his reportage, mainly in the Amsterdam News, in the same way he’s covered me over the years. If I am right in my recollection, our first real conversation occurred after I took exception to one of his articles, mostly about his interpretation of an event, which he accepted graciously with a promise to be more precise in the future.
“Well, having said that, Herb has not only been an accurate and prolific reporter, he has written several books, many of which are housed at City College library next to my large collection. I am not sure what number ‘Epic Harlem’ is among his books, but given its length and deep dive into the community’’s history and personalities, it will certainly rank among his best.”
This precious piece of praise may have been the last to flow from his generous and thoughtful recognition. As one of his most loyal lieutenants confided, Rangel leaving us on “Memorial Day may have been his way of telling us something,” perhaps something about his own gallantry in battle and how we all must prepare for the inevitable. The “Lion” sleeps in peace and power!