Louisville and Muhammad Ali: A Rare Look at a Hometown Champ

I am the Ronnie okeefe published in all the books, I had my first fight and alis first fight, in 1954, he did win by a split decision, that was my last fight. I met ali at least a dozens times after, we went tolunch a few times and he came to ford motor co. were I was working to meet all my co-workers.we wentto London England togeather for a tv show called This is your life, had a great time.Louisville lost a great man when he passed and I lost a great friend.

I was in high school when Mr. Ali refused the draft. It was an act of inconceivable courage by a black man in the U.S. Two Ali quotes, “I ain’t got no quarrel with them Viet Cong” and “No Viet Cong ever called me nigger,” inspired me to think for myself concluding the war in Viet Nam was immoral. I did not have the courage to resist the draft, however. Ten years later I was in the parking lot at La Guardia Airport and there was Mr. Ali without his entourage. I must have looked like a caveman seeing fire for the first time. Mr. Ali said, "Yea it's me." And it was him, "The Greatest of All Time!" To me, he really was. No one has inspired me more.

From the moment he changed his name to Muhammad Ali, this man helped teach a generation of Americans about what we were and what we should become. When his stinging words about racism and the Vietnam war shot through the airwaves, it was clear that America had another hero on her hands. Thanks for the reminder.

Fabulous depiction of “The Greatest” Thank you

I have never seen such a great collection of letters on a NYT piece as on this story. Resonates with me, because I'm also a C-J fan: delivered it (as well as its sister, the Louisville Times) as a kid, had lunch with Mr. Bingham when I won a scholarship, and always enjoyed reading it. Great paper for a city that size. Great to see how Muhammad Ali, a great polarizer in his time, ended up bringing us all closer together.

We were close in age and politics and love of boxing. It is one of my life's regrets that I never met him, shook his hand, and tried to tell him how much he meant to me. My brother gave me a pair of Everlast gloves that Ali had autographed. I wish he was still here, that his great voice--always smooth at the edges, was not stilled. But at the end of his life he still was a heroic figure, he always came through. I didn't think he could ever light the Olympic torch as his tremors had overcome him. TR Roosevelt: “It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

Thank you for this. It brings back many memories, not just of Ali, but of The Courier Journal. It was a great paper to grow up with, back when local newspapers were still an integral part of everyday life.

I've always supported Ali, when he was fighting and when he was not. And when self-important old men in suits took away his title he won in the ring for refusing to fight their immoral war. Great American. Great photos.

Remarkable pictures of a remarkable Man.

All Ali and Howard Cosell ever did, and so well, was poke fun at one another, so that’s a riot seeing The Champ asleep while Cosell's pontificating on TV. I wouldn’t be surprised if Ali gave him a signed copy.

I grew up in Louisville and had a summer college internship in the CJ & LT photography department. A great operation, if all men: I was given a great run of assignments, including a pictorial spread of the soon-to-be-closed Haymarket...from when America's cities still had something like the souks and bazaars of the Mediterranean. http://imagovitae.org/OfPeopleTheirLife.html A great paper run by the great Bingham family which had an enlightened, liberal outlook, won Pulizers (print and photographic) left and right and was regularly rated in the top 10 papers in the nation by the Columbia School of Journalism. Now a pale shadow.

The Greatest. Unique.

RIP Champ, I can never get enough you.

See that he used the right hand jab in his first fight. That surprised me. If there's one boxing image I have burned into my memory it's his jab, from the left side. That image, and the rope-a-dope, standing the over Liston, the Ali Shuffle.....etc.... Great pics, thanks.

"...'He is our guy. He is Louisville’s guy'...” [op cit] -- But he also became America's guy. And he succeeded in saving us from ourselves—both blacks and whites—in the racially charged 1960’s. — How? By obnoxiously demonstrating that he could completely capture our imagination, all by himself! And then, utterly refuse any tokens of gratuitous fame and fortune, from the old and tired Sports networks. -- And everyone in America loved it! — Howard Cosell became the “white,” front man, sparring verbally with “the Champ,”—providing a foil both blacks and whites desperately needed— absorbing Ali’s pummeling, healing blows, to America’s badly bruised conscience. It became a ritual on national television: This young black, marvel of a man with his “furious(!)” complaints, “dancing like a butterfly, and stinging like a bee!” And as poor old Howard struggled to find words, we sat mesmerized in our living rooms, both blacks and whites, vicariously giving it, and taking it. — And both sides began to see a way out. — By following Ali’s example, young Americans might be able to assuage the anger and guilt that both sides had inherited from the previous generation. And there could be * a new way* for blacks and whites to jostle and jab, and strut their stuff, and play the man, on gym floors and factory floors, and around the *same* water cooler—with words instead of fists. — Yes, Ali did save *all* of us, from ourselves. — He *is* our guy.

Thank for this fine piece. I have a copy of the 1954 photo signed by "Muhammad Ali aka Cassius Clay"- I never knew the photographer's name- now I do. The singular piece of purchased sports memorabilia in my life. Ali was important part of my youth. I am now 65.

Thanks for such great photos. Now tourists and Louisvillians can enjoy the Ali Center Museum, and visit his grave in the lovely Cave Hill Cemetery. His call for peace is much needed now.

Beautiful pictures. Thank you.

The Champ. Forever. RIP Champ.

Thanks for this. Really enjoyed The memories it invoke of Ali’s dazzling life.

Always one of the most photographable personalities.