6A / NEWS / THURSDAY, JANUARY 27, 2011 / THE UNIVERSITY DAILY KANSAN / KANSAN.COM
GREAT DIVIDE (CONTINUED FROM 1A)
Wilt Chamberlain acknowledged the crowd next to former KU broadcaster Max Falkenstien on Jan. 17, 1998, the day Chamberlain's jersey was retired. Chamberlain returned to Lawrence that day for the first time in 23 years. Photo courtesy of SPENCER RESEARCH LIBRARY
lunch. He then sips his coffee and smiles.
Behind the coffee mug, his grayed hair is covered by an Air Force hat recognizing his time in the service. His glasses rest gently on his nose in front of a wrinkling face. He is 79.
At one time, Monroe was an up- and coming athlete at Lawrence High. Fast. In shape. Still holding onto a dream. He was the second-fastest quarter miler in the state of Kansas, he says, and he competed in multiple events.
But that was a lifetime ago when tracks were loose cinder and races were measured in yards. Sometimes the past is best left as a memory, and that's how Monroe would like to leave it. Talking about any of that now seems irrelevant.
Instead, he discusses his Air Force tour and the people he met along the way; about the city garage he opened and ran for 23 years in Lawrence; about how even then some people said a black man couldn't properly run the garage; and about his six children — all of whom received college degrees.
But Monroe still grew up in a racially-divided community at a time when the racial unrest of the 1920s and 1930s had started to cool, but before the Civil Rights movement firmly took hold. The University had opened its doors to African-American athletes in the late 1890s, but those doors quickly shut and the school kept black athletes out shortly after the turn of
"I don't regret anything now," Monroe says. "My life was a whole lot better than a lot of other people."
the century.
Monroe grew up at a time when the opportunities for an African-American living in one place differed for an African-American somewhere where Wilt
Photo courtesy of SPENCER RESEARCH LIBRARY
what happened that day when he was still a toned college freshman. Tell you how he wanted to run for KU's famed track and field team only to be denied. Tell you the rejection he experienced that day triggered one of the worst feelings in his life — not just then, but even now. Tell you that same rejection was why he dropped out of college and joined the service
Chamberlain accepts a plaque from the late Bob Frederick, KU's athletics director at the time, on the day the University retired Chamberlain jersey.
Around Lawrence he could only eat at a handful of restaurants, and he had to sit in the last few rows at the four local movie theaters, called the Crow's Nest. Monroe never minded. "Best seat in the house," he said.
The hurt stayed with him during his first stint with the Air Force, even overseas. He continued learning and adapting and moving on with his life, but the feeling still hung around, at least a little. A rejection that deep can age a young man in a hurry.
Chamberlain played the part of growing star, Leonard Monroe fell in line with the everyday man.
But there was a time when ... No, Monroe doesn't really want to get into the details. He'll tell you
In high school, Monroe played basketball on the Promoters, an all-black basketball team formed in the 1920s with students unable to play on Lawrence High's segregated team. He loved it.
Monroe returned to Lawrence after a four-year absence in 1955, hoping to find the kind of change that comes with a good job. The job never came — and because of that he spent an additional 19 years in the Air Force — but something else did.
Letters from interested colleges flowed into the Chamberlain's Philadelphia household, sometimes as many as four or five a day. Coaches constantly visited and called. Kansas coach F.C. "Phog" Allen even enlisted the help of singer Etta Motten and journalist Dowdal Davis, the editor of the Kansas City Call, an African-
Wilt Chamberlain
Every college basketball program in the country wanted Chamberlain, and every program in the country made sure he knew that.
"I don't regret anything now.My life was a whole lot better than a lot of other people."
Leonard Monroe, left, and Chamberlain talk after Kansas' game against Kansas State on Jan. 17, 1998. Monroe and Chamberlain occasionally frequent the same spots in Lawrence when Chamberlain played at Kansas from 1955-58.
The buzz Chamberlain generated surpassed anything the sport ever experienced. He was a star, and he wasn't even 18.
LEONARD MONROE
American newspaper.
On the basketball court, Wilt couldn't sneak away from anyone. His friends and family called him "Dipper" or "Dippy" because his height forced him to dip when he
Photo courtesy of the Topeka Capital-Journal
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During the summers, Wilt and his sister, Barbara, would go to a camp in the Poconos. They were there to work, but only one of them truly did. During the day, Wilt rode horses. At night, hed sneak off to have fun.
Chamberlain grew up near a predominantly Jewish community and attended Overbrook High School, a predominantly Jewish school. And yet, he was the most popular person in the school. He was magnetic.
entered rooms. He liked it.
Philadelphia sportswriters called him "Wilt the Stilt." He despised it. He always thought it made him sound freakish.
And if there's one thing people agree upon when it comes to Wilt Chamberlain, it's this: He always wanted to be more than people thought.
Leonard Monroe played bas
I
In 1950, when Lawrence High's basketball team integrated during his senior year, Monroe had the cartilage knocked loose in his knee playing football. He couldn't jump or cut the same as before.
ketball on the Promoters in high school, but he lived for track. That was the sport he cared about, the one he invested most of his time and energy in each year.
He still made the basketball team as one of the school's first black basketball players, but he
quit shortly after and joined an intramural team to rehab his knee. He wanted to be ready when track season began.
Monroe ran the quarter mile in 48.9 seconds, the second fastest time in the state. The fastest runner, Frank Cindrich, took his talents to the University of Kansas — a school with one of the nation's best track teams.
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That's where Monroe wanted to go, too.
During his senior year in high