Marathon #12 – Orlando, Florida – January 9, 2011
“People call me Ivory.”
The elderly black man perched at the end of the bar extended his hand as he introduced himself.
He gave a playful grin and his eyes twinkled as I did a double-take while processing the obvious irony of his nickname, and my mind spun into overdrive trying to formulate an appropriate response. Sensing immediately his appreciation for humor, I delivered my reply as we firmly shook hands.
“You can call me Ebony.”
He cackled with delight at my response, pulled me in closer, and with a wink whispered, “Welcome to Orlando, my man.”
It was an early Sunday afternoon, and just an hour earlier I had crossed the finish line at the Disney Marathon. After taking a shower (post-marathon showers are the BEST ever!), Jenny and I had walked across the street from our Orlando hotel to a sports bar called Miller’s Ale House in order to get some lunch and to watch our KC Chiefs take on the Baltimore Ravens in a Wildcard playoff game.
We had been up since 4am, as I was to be at the race’s starting area by 6am, and we had been warned at the packet pick-up the previous day that the race day traffic would be heavy. The race had been a complete blast, as we ran through all 4 of the Disney Parks and were cheered on by thousands of awesome spectators. I even got to meet and take pictures with several Disney characters, including my heroes Phineas and Ferb, and shared a high-five with Donald Duck while crossing the Finish Line (the next time you see me, ask to hear my Donald Duck voice!)
The morning had been a complete success, and we were in full-on celebration mode as I approached the bar at Miller’s Ale House to order their Sunday drink special, a bucket of 5 bottles of Miller Genuine Draft.
And so it was that I encountered Ivory, sitting on a corner stool at the bar, wearing a white cowboy hat and a Washington Redskins Doug Williams jersey. It was obvious that he was a “regular”, and as the day went on I came to learn that in addition to being the bar’s unofficial greeter, Ivory was an avid sports fan and philosopher whose pearls of wisdom revolved around a message of love and unity despite facing unspeakable hatred and racism while growing up and living in the South.
“What brings you to Orlando, Ebony?”
“Well, this morning I ran the Disney Marathon,” I answered.
“Say WHAT? You mean to tell me that you just ran 26.2 miles? On purpose? And you’re still able to walk? Man, that’s crazy … and incredible!”
As well as being flattered by his kind compliment, I was impressed by his knowledge of the marathon distance of 26.2 miles.
Ivory then yelled across the bar to his friend, “Hey, Hank! You gotta meet this guy! He just ran the marathon this morning!”
Hank, a distinguished-looking gentleman wearing a sport coat and Gatsby cap, came around the bar to join us.
“That’s amazing! Man, I couldn’t run that far if a bear was chasing me! So, where are you from?”
It was becoming apparent that both men were Sunday regulars at Miller’s, and that since they hadn’t ever seen me there before, they could just tell that I was not a local.
“I’m from Topeka, Kansas” … and when they each gave me a quizzical look, I followed up with … “Near Kansas City. In fact, we’re here to watch the Chiefs game.”
“Well, congratulations on your marathon, Kansas City. But I’m not so sure that your Chiefs are gonna have much luck today. Baltimore’s defense is too tough.”
In the span of 5 minutes, I had gained two friends and two nicknames.
Looking over at Jenny at our nearby table, Ivory then said, “Well, after you and your lovely lady finish your lunch, why don’t you come up and join us at the bar to watch the game, Marathon Man?”
It was like receiving an invitation for an audience with The King … and another nickname. When I jokingly told Ivory that we would only do so if he promised to cheer for the Chiefs, he said, “I don’t have a dog in this fight, Ebony, so I’ll cheer with you. But I truly don’t think that they have a prayer!”
He said this in all earnestness without a hint of scorn, and deep down I somewhat agreed with him. Plus he truly seemed interested in hanging out with us, and I was drawn in by his magnetic personality.
So after Jenny and I finished our lunch, we moved over to the bar to watch the game with Ivory. As each new patron entered the area, he made a huge point to introduce “my friend Ebony, the Marathon Man from Kansas City.” He seemed genuinely proud of my accomplishment that morning, and relished the opportunity to embarrass me at every turn.
When another out-of-towner wearing an Alabama hat and shirt walked by, Ivory roared out a hearty “Roll, Tide!”, which elicited a huge grin and a fist bump from the guy.
I asked Ivory if he was a Crimson Tide fan, and his reply was priceless.
“Nah … I just thought it would make the guy feel at home.”
That’s how it was with Ivory. It didn’t matter how old you were, what team you cheered for, or the color of your skin … he saw everybody as a potential friend.
As the Chiefs game played out just as Ivory and Hank had predicted, my curiosity got the better of me.
“So, I have to ask. How did you come about being known as Ivory, when you … “
I trailed off, not wanting to overstep my bounds.
“You mean, a black man named Ivory?” He finished the thought for me, punctuated by his boisterous laugh, putting me back at ease.
“I chose that name on purpose, and you know why? It is a constant reminder to me that the color of a person’s skin never matters. What matters is how they treat people.”
In hindsight, he had maybe had the conversation several times in his life, but in the moment it seemed completely unrehearsed and heartfelt. He WANTED people to ask about his name so that he could educate them, and he seemed pleased that I felt comfortable enough to do so.
He leaned in closer and continued.
“You know, growing up as a black man in the south, I have seen and experienced some horrible things. My family endured terrible hatred, prejudice, and racism.”
The floodgates had opened. Without a hint of self-pity, and with a matter-of-fact demeanor, Ivory laid out in great detail a long list of horrendous events in his life that he had endured simply because of the color of his skin.
“But when I served in the Marine Corps over in Vietnam? I saw that we all bleed red. And we’re a lot more alike than we are different.”
After thanking him for his service, I had to ask.
“So, how do you not carry any bitterness?”
He looked me straight in the eye and whispered.
“YOU didn’t do those terrible things to me, Ebony. So if I were to carry any bitterness or hatred toward YOU just because of the color of YOUR skin, I would be just as bad.”
My jaw dropped.
Realizing that the mood had gotten a bit deep, Ivory let out with a loud “Roll, Tide!”, and we shared a tension-breaking laugh.
The Chiefs had lost, after which Jenny and I had planned to go back to the hotel to watch the upcoming KU basketball game. But we were having such a great time, and by now it was time for supper. So we went ahead and ordered another meal and decided to educate Ivory about Jayhawk hoops.
“OK, Ivory. So our Chiefs lost. Now we’re gonna watch our Kansas basketball team whip up on Michigan. And ‘Rock Chalk’ will be the chant for the rest of the day!”
“All right, Jayhawk. Sounds good to me.”
Another meal. Another game. Another nickname.
Throughout the KU game, Ivory quizzed me about my marathon running. When I shared with him that my goal was to run a marathon in all 50 states, and that this morning’s had been #12, he made sure that the ENTIRE bar knew, flashing an impish grin my way as he knew that it was embarrassing me.
The KU game went into overtime. When the final buzzer sounded, and the Jayhawks had prevailed, Ivory was the first to shout out …
“Rock Chalk!”
It had been a long day, and it was time to walk back to the hotel to prepare for our flight home the next morning.
It was also time to say goodbye.
“Ivory, I am so grateful that we met. Thank you for such an awesome day, and for giving me so much to think about. You are an amazing man. God bless you.”
“Good luck on your 50 states. And remember. Love always wins. So keep spreading the love. Take care, my brother Ebony.”
Take care, my brother Ivory.
Wherever you are.
