A Black Man's Journey to the Sons of the American Revolution

By William O. Ritchie

“From the segregated Stratton High School in Beckley, West Virginia, to the prestigious Howard University in Washington, DC, to years of law enforcement in our nation’s capital, Bill Ritchie has found himself a member of the Sons of the American Revolution. We have often asked, how? And why? Throughout his book A Black Man’s Journey to the Sons of the American Revolution, he answers these questions for us.”

—Belva Williams Waller, matriarch of the Ritchie Family.

“Bill Ritchie’s fascinating journey from rural mountains in West Virginia to celebrated track all-American at Howard University, to chief of detectives in the nation’s capital and his many other successful pursuits is an inspiring study of determination, creativity, and perseverance. His book, A Black Man’s Journey to the Sons of the American Revolution, candidly provides a fleet-footed but comprehensive look at a renaissance man still blazing new and interesting paths.” —Rock Newman, sports and music entrepreneur, executive producer, and host of The Rock Newman Show, former Howard University Trustee.

“You have a fascinating history! Can’t wait to read the book.”

—Sari Horwitz, author and reporter, recipient of four Pulitzer Prize awards

By William O. Ritchie Jr

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Aug 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9781662433689

Book preview

Chapter One

The Journey Begins in My Hometown of Beckley

Beckley is a small town and the county seat of Raleigh County in the southern part of the state of West Virginia. It was the center of my universe during my formative years. The white residents tended to live in the northern part of the city and colored residents more to the southern part. The self-descriptive terms of Black or African American to describe our ethnicity were nonexistent at that time, at least not in our community. While there were no defined geographical markers, we tended to socialize to ourselves as did the white residents. Religious and sporting activities were crossover events. We were aware of the doctrines of Brown versus the Board of Education and began to realize its implications to our way of life. Discussions were in progress and often the topic of the day regarding desegregation issues.

Little Ritchie was the childhood name given to me by my peers. My father became a prominent businessman as a mortician and in 1955 established the Ritchie and Johnson Funeral Parlor Inc. with his partner James Johnson. He was known as Mr. Ritchie, and I was Little Ritchie. However, my family called me Junior since my father was William Sr. My mom was the typical housewife until I was about fifteen years old. She had gone back to school, earned her degree, and subsequently became a social worker in the county.

My first year of formal schooling began when I was five years of age. We did not have kindergarten classes in our neighborhood. It was told to me that I wanted to go to school, so my dad made arrangements with an elementary school teacher who lived in the neighborhood, Mrs. Mary Finney. Mrs. Finney taught grades one through five at Pemberton, a single-room elementary school within the county. The plan was for me to go to school only for two weeks to get it out of my system. Interestingly, Mrs. Finney convinced my dad to allow me to continue because I was able to do the work. While in school I hated having to go to the restroom because the only facility was an outhouse without any heat. The teacher never had to worry about kids staying in there too long, especially during the cold mountain winters. I don’t remember much about the honey dippers (urban slang) but I know they were around.

The following year, I enrolled in my neighborhood elementary school, Morton Reaves, in the second grade. Mrs. Craighead was my teacher. The school was a five-minute walk from my home, which was on the second floor of my dad’s business, a funeral home. The vivid memory of that year was when I fell on the sliding board during recess and broke both of my arms. My mom told me that I only missed one day of school. She would put my book bag over my shoulders, and away I went. Mrs. Craighead gave me oral tests because I was unable to write. I guess I did okay as I was promoted to the third grade.

Moving forward, I was in Mrs. Ada Robinson’s sixth-grade class. That was the year we had an influx of new students from East Beckley Elementary School that included my eventual best buddy John Curtis Pannell, along with Irvin Wright. Nothing overly remarkable occurred that year other than I broke my right arm again during recess. I don’t recall exactly what happened, but I am certain that my parents said here we go again.

It was during this period that my parents enrolled me to take piano lessons from a local music teacher, Mrs. Louise Terry. Initially, it was exciting, but it got to the point that I would not practice. It was probably frustrating to me that I could read and play the notes on the piano, but I did not have the natural ability to make the music like my buddy John Curtis who eventually was playing for the youth choir at his church.

One positive outcome was the friendship that I formed with Mrs. Terry’s son, Joe. We were the same age, and we had fun playing together. A couple of years later, Joe left the area to attend St. Emma Military Academy. I truly missed his presence. We did not reunite until the fall of 2001 when I attended Mrs. Terry’s funeral. My father had died suddenly a couple of months earlier. I last saw Joe in DC during May 2019 when he was in town to attend the funeral of his brother-in-law. During that visit, we had a big discussion on whether we were related as it was rumored. Looking at family history, we observed some possible family connections for future research. Historically, Joe had been the producer of the Maury Povich and Oprah shows. He started as the producer of The Kelly Clarkson Show in September 2019.

Morten Reaves ES Class Picture—all courtesy of the author

Stratton High School was my destination for the ninth grade. Stratton educated students of color from grades seven through twelve. Our mascot was the Bulldog. During my first two years, I was a member of the band, initially playing a B-flat clarinet. I earned all-state honors my second year playing the alto clarinet. Coach J. Murray Jeffries allowed me to play football in my last two years. I was the backup quarterback. However, my forte was running track. I had speed to burn as a sprinter. In May of 1965, I placed second in the state AA championships in the 100-yard dash. I was disappointed that I did not win, and I vowed to myself that during my senior year, no one in the state would beat me. I was the 1966 state champion, accomplishing an undefeated season. I was selected for induction into the Stratton/Woodrow Wilson High School Track & Field Hall of Fame, Class of 2020.

My crew consisted of John Curtis, Irvin, William Law, and Timothy Anderson. We were literally inseparable during our four years. We took a lot of our classes together and were involved with a wide range of extracurricular activities including sports, band, thespian, and scientific groups. During our senior year, we asked the typing teacher if we could take her class as an elective. We wanted to get into the class with all the girls. The teacher, Mrs. Francis Flippen, agreed. The class was not a cakewalk. Mrs. Flippen worked our butts off. Retrospectively, learning to type was one of the most beneficial courses that I had ever taken. During this period, we were considering where we were going to college. John Curtis, Tim, and I decided that we were going to go to Howard University because of all the attractive coeds there and enrolled in the fall of 1966.

Extracurricular activities for us included a wide range of disciplines. We were thespians acting in several school plays and Boy Scouts. Membership in the National Honor Society, the Euclidean Math Society, Linus Pauling Chemistry Society, and the Study Council were among our interests. We even learned to square dance, an unusual opportunity for students in an all-Black high school. Dear Old Stratton, We Love Thee.

During 1993 I was invited to return to Beckley to give a presentation at the Beckley Chapter of the NAACP by virtue of my position as a high-ranking police official and also a Stratton High School graduate. I enjoyed having my dad present during the program. I know he was very proud.

Feuding Mountain Boys—1966 Stratton Yearbook

Courtesy Register-Herald Newspaper

1966 Stratton Yearbook

1966 Stratton Yearbook

Register-Herald Newspaper April 1966

Register-Herald Newspaper 1993

Chapter Two

Howard University

It was a lonely place and not what I expected. Graduating with a high school class of one hundred students and transitioning to a freshman class of two thousand was quite a shock. I had to stand in a line for everything from taking a shower to eating a meal. I had two roommates, and we were crammed into a fifteen-by-fifteen-feet area with just enough room for two bunk beds and one single bed in the Drew Hall dormitory. We had to share desk and closet space. Fortunately, my roommates Larry and Paul were good guys, and we got along just fine. All incoming freshmen were required to take entrance exams to determine our skill levels in math and English. John Curtis, Tim, and I successfully passed these tests, and we thanked our teachers at Stratton for the foundation they gave us in these disciplines.

We were sitting on campus during freshman week, attending programming for the incoming class. We met these three very attractive young ladies from New York and engaged them in conversation. They asked where we were from, and they were told West Virginia. One of the ladies asked if that was the western part of Virginia. John Curtis, suspecting a high level of gullibility, began telling them about our home state. He told them that each of us lived on a separate mountaintop. John Curtis said that we did not have telephones to communicate. He told them that we communicated by yodeling across the mountaintops to each other and that we never wore shoes. They were aghast in wonderment and swallowed the story hook, line, and sinker. To say the least, we were amused at their intellect.

My major was civil engineering. Calculus and physics classes were well beyond my capabilities. I was studying day and night, becoming very frustrated. Academically, I was not doing very well and had thoughts of heading back to West Virginia. There was a lot of activity in Drew Hall for freshmen. However, the dorm was not coeducational, and female guests had to sign in and recognize a curfew. Yes, there were beautiful women on campus as far as the eyes could see. But if you were not in a fraternity or didn’t have your own apartment or your own car, social life was nearly nonexistent, especially for me as generally a very passive individual.

During the fall of 1966 entering Howard University as a seventeen-year-old freshman, I visited the track coach, Dr. Wilmer Johnson, and asked to join the team. I told him that I was an undefeated state champion from West Virginia in the 100-yard dash and that I had tied the state record time for the event. Moving forward during practices, I met this guy from Philly who was also a freshman and a sprinter. As much and as hard as I tried, I could not beat him in the fifty- or sixty-yard sprints. In practice, I was always looking at the back of his track shoes. He made me work my butt off. Eventually, during the spring of 1967, I was able to beat him. We were nip and tuck during practices. During the outdoor track season, we were always first and second in our events during the various track meets. We were dubbed the dynamic duo and eventually won a relay event at the Penn Relays that year. We both joined the same fraternity, Alpha Phi Omega, and during 2018 he joined me in the Howard University Sports Hall of Fame. Our birthday is one day apart. I would never have realized my many successes as an all-American track athlete if the guy from Philly had not pushed me beyond what I thought I was capable of doing. I thank Paul Mathis for being a real friend, competitor, fraternity brother, and the ultimate motivator.

I subsequently earned a full track scholarship. I was a seven-time College Division NCAA all-American and was the NCAA Atlantic Coast Regional 100-yard and 220-yard dash champion in both 1968 and 1969. I was the 1969 College Division National Champion in the 220-yard dash and finished second in the 100-yard dash. I was the 1969 100-yard dash champion in the CIAA and finished second in the 220-yard dash to 1968 Olympic gold-medal winner Vince Matthews, who tied the meet record of twenty-one seconds flat.

I was inducted into the Howard University Sports Hall of Fame in 1996 as an individual and again in 2018 as a member of the highly touted 1968 and 1969 track-and-field teams. I still hold the school record of 9.4 seconds in the 100-yard dash and 20.2 seconds in the 220-yard/200-meter dash and met the qualifying time to participate in the college-division Olympic trials during 1968.

I earned the following individual and team accolades during my track career at Howard:

1968 NCAA College Division Atlantic Coast Regional Champion

1969 NCAA College Division Atlantic Coast Regional Champion

One NCAA College Division National Champion

220-yard dash champion

Seven NCAA All-American citations received in the 100-yard dash (2), 100-meter dash, 200-meter dash, 220-yard dash (2) and 440-yard relay

Fourth place tie in the 1969 NCAA College Division National Track and Field Championships

Second place 1969 CIAA Track and Field Conference Championship

Several CIAA Track and Field Conference Championships

Qualifier for the 1968 College Division Olympic trials

Established several individual and team records including the 60- and 100-yard dashes, 100-meter dash, 220-yard/200-meter dash, and the mile relay

1996 induction into the Bison Hall of Fame

2018 induction of the 1968 and 1969 teams into the Bison Hall of Fame

The late Ron Lassiter and I were the 1969 team captains. During the indoor track seasons, the teams participated in nationally televised track meets from the Philadelphia Convention Center to the Boston Gardens to Madison Square Garden in the Millrose Games, and the NCAA National Championships at Cobo Arena in Detroit, Michigan. During the outdoor seasons, the team traveled up and down the East Coast participating in such venues as the highly touted Penn Relays in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, a host of CIAA school sites including conference championships at Morgan State University in Baltimore and local hosts such as the University of Maryland and American University.

The 1968 team traveled to Mount Saint Mary’s College in Emmetsburg, Pennsylvania, winning Howard University’s first known NCAA Championship. The team returned to Dickerson College in Carlisle, Pennsylvania, in 1969 and successfully defended its championship. Howard University was represented in the 1968 NCAA College Division National Track and Field Championships at California State University East Bay, in Hayward, California, resulting in Howard University’s first two-time all-American.

In 1969, the team traveled to Ashland College in Ashland, Ohio, for the 1969 National Track and Field Championships where the team placed in a tie for fourth and garnered six additional all-American honors and its first NCAA National Champion. Also, during 1969, the team placed second during the CIAA Track and Field Championships held at Morgan State University in Baltimore, Maryland.

I was blessed to have been highly touted in various media sources both locally and nationally such as the Washington Post, the Carolina Times, and the Washington Afro adding to the prestige of the Howard University sports program.

Reprint permission by AFRO-American Newspapers

Howard University Hilltop Newspaper

Reprint Permission Washington Post from May 18, 1969

Reprint Permission Register-Herald Newspapers

Winning the 220-yard Dash

NCAA College Division National Track and Field Championship at Ashland College

NCAA Track and Field Magazine June 1969

After changing my major to physical education added with my success as an athlete, campus life blossomed in so many ways. Alpha Phi Omega (APO) fraternity activities along with other Pan-Hellenistic organizations were enriching.

Between 1966 and 1968, it was not all roses on the campus of Howard University. Issues surrounding Black awareness were budding on the heretofore conservative mindset of the university. Black activist students supported Ms. Robin Gregory to become homecoming queen in 1966. Her election shook up the school administration and may have been the defining event of the beginning of Black Power at the capstone of historically Black colleges. This event was paralleled by fiery blackness speeches by a philosophy major, Stokely Carmichael. Coming from Beckley, West Virginia, these activities were initially hard for me to comprehend. During the spring of 1967, I had the opportunity to hear Muhammad Ali speak on campus in front of Douglass Hall. The administration would not allow him to speak in the auditorium because he had earlier refused induction into the military and had been stripped of his heavyweight boxing title. He was an idol of mine, and I never imaged would see him in person during this period. His Black Is Best speech was intriguing.

While he may not have understood it at the time, one of the upperclassmen who helped me to understand this revolution was a junior from Bermuda, Ewart Brown (Yogi). Yogi was a standout on the track-and-field team and eventually became my fraternity brother in APO. He was the incoming president of the student association.

During March of 1968, pursuant to a student protest on the main campus, a group of students, led by Yogi, walked over to the campus administrative building and initiated a sit-in as students took action to bring the growing Black-consciousness movement and their African heritage inside the walls of the institution. Demands were made by students that changes be made at the university with a goal, in part, of enhancing the Howard curriculum to ensure an emphasis on Black history and culture and initiatives to improve relationships between the university and the surrounding Black community. Tense negotiations were concluded after five days on March 23, and classes resumed. These events were captured in the documentary Eyes on the Prize: Ain’t Gonna Shuffle No More in which I was captured in a still photograph with Paul Mathis and other members of the track team sitting in front of the administration building during the occupation.

Eleven days later, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King was killed in Memphis, and the campus was again in turmoil. I was in my dorm room in Drew Hall when a student running up and down the hallway announced that Dr. King had been assassinated. The Howard campus was geographically elevated from the downtown area of DC, and you could peer out the window and see that the city was burning. I wanted to crawl under my bed. The next day on campus, Carmichael, H. Rap Brown, and other perceived militants were waving guns, rallying students in