Almost everyone agrees that the days of hero worship in thiscountry are about over. I experienced this last year when,inadvertently, I found myself on La Salle Street as Vice PresidentDan Quayle emerged from City Hall and waved at the crowds. I waspuzzled at my own lack of excitement about having a glimpse of aperson who had reached the second highest office in the land.
How different it was in my childhood. I can still remember "TheBrown Bomber," a prizefighter from the Detroit ghetto who capturedthe imagination of nearly all Americans. But for blacks in the '30s,Joe Louis was far more than a prizefighter. He was a symbol of blackexcellence.
I have a vision of …

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