The stories they told, the reality we share

Washington Post staffers recall unique people and moments from their work on the 'Black Man' series:

There is a power in blackness -- that's what my parents have always told me. Never hide it, never be ashamed of it.

In third grade I sat in a large classroom at a small desk and learned about powerful black men: Martin Luther King Jr. Malcolm X. Thurgood Marshall. I'd stare out the window, dreaming of the man I would become -- a lawyer, or a rapper. That was Bunker Hill Elementary School, 1985.

Fast forward to May 1, 2006. I'm back at Bunker Hill, waiting for Colin Powell to pull up in his silver Corvette.

Kevin Merida, the editor of the "Being a Black Man" series, had an idea: Bring 10 black men from all walks of life together for one day, for one photo. It had seemed like a stretch. But inside a sparsely decorated classroom, nine black men are waiting for the former secretary of state to arrive. He walks in and greets everyone as if they were old friends.

Across from my third-grade classroom, where I once proudly rapped a speech during class elections, men who epitomize black male power are gathered before me: a four-star general, a pastor, a civil rights activist, a NASA physicist and his son, the chief executive of Radio One, a basketball all-star, a rapper, an ex-con turned youth activist, and the executive director of the Congressional Black Caucus. All shades of blackness, all kinds of power.

Standing in the hallway, I feel proud to be a small part of it all. Proud that I can turn to my right and see the classroom where my third-grade teacher told me to dream, and then to my left and see what happens when dreams get wings.

-- Stephen A. Crockett, news aide

* * *

She had struggled out of bed that afternoon to meet me. She had been ailing for a while. I had come to Hagalyn Wilson's door in Montgomery, Ala., because of Eric Motley, a onetime White House official. I was looking for those who had encouraged and inspired him in his youth.

Wilson finished medical school in 1957. She could have chosen far more hospitable places to practice medicine, but Montgomery was home. She worked in the "colored ward" of St. Margaret's Hospital. And when she wasn't practicing medicine or raising her own children, she was looking after children who needed help.

Children like young Eric Motley. She hired him to work in her neighborhood-renowned garden, his first after-school job. With the money he earned, he started a savings account.