History Reveals the True Colors of Leadership

By Norman Franklin

Norman Franklin

History is so rich with the experiences of humanity, the deeds, and misdeeds of man. A study of history vindicates some and lifts the veil of mystique from some enamored icons of thorny eras of America.

The lives of Martin L King, Jr., John F. Kennedy, Sammy Davis, Jr., and Richard Nixon intersect in a space and time when the tranquil white face of society was fractured by Black resistance; biases and blood, character and integrity mingled, coagulated, and set the course of social change. The Civil Rights Era called to account the character and integrity of America, i.e., its people, its leaders across the spectrum of business, entertainment, and politics. The aforementioned, because of their positions to effect changes for a more perfect America, stand out in the crowd.

The culture of racism was so pervasive in 1960s America that it intimidated those of the upper echelons of society, and the political elite. These should have been impervious to the putrid regurgitations of a segment of society still suffering nausea from a centuries old virus.

These people were in positions of authority, people who, because of their status, could make powerful statements and affirmations that, in America, all people deserved acceptance and the respect of their fellow citizens.

But they didn’t. They chose not to represent change and empowerment, but rather bowed to an anachronistic idea of a social strata and groveled for their support; they kept their eyes on the coveted prize of power. Politics make strange bedfellows. It’s an implacable truth, and particularly poignant in an era when race tilted the scales in all things social and political.

John F. Kennedy was the face of the new generation of politicians. He personified changing of the old guard. He was running for president in the 1960 general election. Richard Nixon, who had served as Vice President under Eisenhower, was his Republican opponent. Dr. MLK, Jr., and the Civil Right Movement had gained national attention.

Sammy Davis, Jr., was counted among the Hollywood elites who would lend their name, celebrity status, and money in support of Dr. King’s movement. Davis raised $750,000 for King and various civil rights organizations. In current dollars, that would be $7,862,989. He lent his fund-raising abilities to Kennedy’s campaign for the White House.

The Democratic National Convention was in Los Angeles in 1960. The five-member Rat Pack was there. Davis was introduced as one of the many stars endorsing Kennedy. Only Davis was booed by the delegates from the apartheid South. Davis was engaged to May Britt, a Swedish actress. Interracial marriages were illegal until 1967.

In October, late in the campaign, King was sentenced to four months in jail. He violated his probation by participating in the Atlanta sit-in. Kennedy was encouraged by his advisors to call Coretta King to convey his sympathy. The campaign’s discreet publicity of involvement in King’s release from jail gained him the support of Black voters.

Nixon, on the other hand, despite having a good relationship with King, was silent. “When the moment came, it was like he had never heard of me,” King said. King felt that Nixon’s vanishing act showed him to be “a moral coward and one who was really unwilling to take a courageous step and take a risk.

Kennedy won the presidency. Davis didn’t receive an invitation to the inauguration. Others of the Rat Pack did. It angered Dean Martin, a fellow Rat Packer; he declined to attend. Sinatra gave comfort to Davis when he was booed at the Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles.

The Rat Pack’s legacy reveals their authentic commitment to one another, and it presents an example of true fellowship. Perhaps theirs is a history that should be shared.