Citizen Hughes - Michael Drosnin [89]
Hughes was not satisfied. He wanted no trouble, but he didn’t want “Black Heritage” either. And he had a plan:
“Bob, I am wondering if a solution might lie in ceasing all academic programing for the summer months.
“After all, school is closed for the summer, and if the scholastic programing were abandoned, then maybe there would be less criticism for the abandonment of this particular program than if it were replaced by a white-oriented program.”
While the two men continued, in a flurry of memos, to plot the demise of the TV show, Hughes received word of unexpected support: “Both the national and local NAACP has objected to the Black Heritage program. KLAS would like to cancel the show if they can get your approval.”
That changed everything. Now Hughes was in no hurry to see the show go. It continued, in fact, until CBS pulled it off the air two months later.
The reprieve for “Black Heritage” did not apply, however, to other KLAS programs. Even the “Big News” was segregated. When racial tensions flared in local schools, the station went so far as to refuse its parent network film of the disorders for national coverage.
“It is the policy of KLAS to carry matters relating to the Afro problem which are favorable to Las Vegas and to play down that which is unfavorable,” the station manager assured his unseen boss. “In this connection, there is a colored deaf mute who is one of the basketball stars at the University of Nevada. This boy is one of very high character and does not engage to any extent in the integration rabble rousing which is occurring. Therefore, his accomplishments are of nationwide interest to those who see the true reason for the integration problems and certainly would be beneficial to Las Vegas.”
Hughes was unimpressed. Even this “credit-to-his-race” was unacceptable. “We do not want any programs involving negroes,” came the reply from the penthouse. “If we have any other such programs, HRH wants to know of them.”
Television was safe—for the moment at least—but Hughes was ever alert to new threats. Like Arthur Ashe.
The black tennis star had been invited to play in a tournament at the Desert Inn. Actually asked to come. And Maheu had secretly arranged it. It was the Davis Cup championship, a prize attraction, a real plum for Las Vegas. The night before the tournament began, however, Hughes discovered the plot and demanded that the match be canceled. He didn’t want Ashe playing on his courts, fearing that he would lure “hordes of negroes” to his hideout.
Maheu tried to soothe him. “Howard, I am positive we have nothing to worry about. Tennis is not a game that appeals to his people and I am willing to wager that there will be less than a handful of them in the audience. The proportion will be considerably less than we have in our showrooms when some of them are performing here.”
Ashe was accepted—reluctantly—but not Muhammad Ali. There was talk of staging a championship bout in Las Vegas. It was the Great White Hope all over again. Jack Johnson might have sneaked into town under cover of the Tony Awards telecast, but Hughes was not about to put up with his brash, draft-dodging reincarnation, Ali. As usual, he sent Maheu into the ring.
“Howard,” Maheu wrote, “you do not have to spend any time trying to convince me how right you are in your feelings pertaining to Clay. If it is possible, perhaps I feel more deeply about these matters than you.”
Maheu scored in the first round: “I moved on the Clay-Frazier fight and scuttled it to a fair-thee-well insofar as Las Vegas and Nevada are concerned. I personally believe it is incredible that there are those who even entertain the idea of having this no good bastard gain any amount of publicity at the expense of the State.”
Hughes was not content simply to block the fight. He wanted Ali—then facing charges for refusing to fight in Vietnam—put in jail. “We shall do everything in our power,” promised Maheu, “to assure that he ends up there.”
The minstrel show was turning sour.
It would have been funny. Or merely pathetic. An addled