Power of Caring
  presented by CIGNA

Posted: Wed July 8, 1998

Muhammad Ali may be the most famous athlete of the century. And alongside Ali nearly every step of the way, from the time his name was Cassius Clay, was his good friend Howard Bingham. A photographer, Bingham chronicled Ali's life in the book Muhammad Ali: A Thirty-Year Journey, which is available through his website. This week Bingham is the focus of Frank Deford's story, The Best of Friends. The July 13 issue of SI begins reaching newsstands and subscribers today.

CNN/SI talked with Bingham about his role in Ali's life, and how it felt to join the champ on his 35th SI cover.

BINGHAM SOUNDS OFF:
What's it like to share the spotlight with Ali? (180K)
How sharp is Ali's mind? (275K)

CNN/SI: How did the story come about?

Howard Bingham: Frank called me and said, "Howard, it's Frank Deford. I'm back with SI now, and I'd like you to be my first feature." I said, "Why?!?" And he said, "Howard, I've known you for a long time, and I just wanted to do a feature on you, I think you're a halfway decent guy." The hook is Ali and the friendship. I said, "I never played football or basketball." He said, "I know that, Howard." It was the relationship with Ali. Then I thought to myself, Damn, how many athletes have ever been written up in Sports Illustrated? How many athletes have ever been on the cover? Wow!

CNN/SI: It's recounted in the story, but could you tell us, in your own words, how you met Ali?

Bingham: I met Ali in 1962. I was working with a black weekly newspaper called the Los Angeles Sentinel. My assignment was to cover him at this news conference. I'd never heard of him, because I wasn't into boxing and I wasn't into the Olympics. Anyway, my assignment was to cover him at this news conference, and they said he's a loudmouth and makes a lot of noise. So I went to the news conference, introduced myself, took the photograph and left. Later on that afternoon I saw Ali and his brother on the corner of Fifth and Broadway. They were just hanging out and watching the girls, so I hollered at them, "Hey, do you want a ride? I have some errands to run, but if you want to ride with me, after my errands I will show you around L.A." So that's how we met.

He was out there for a week, and I was around every day taking him to workouts and taking him to bowling alleys. I introduced him to my mother and to girls. After he left he would call me every now and then. We got to be good friends. New Year's, 1963, he called me up and said, "Hey, how about coming and hanging out with me for a couple weeks?" I said, "Fine." So he sent me a ticket and I left the next Sunday afternoon. This was the second week in January, and I did not make it back home until the middle of March.

CNN/SI: In the story, it's explained why you and Ali call each other "Bill." How did you settle on that particular name?

Bingham: It's not only Bill, it could be George, it could be Michael or Richard. If I called him one of those names, he'd look at me and laugh. It was just something different. I used to call Belinda, one of his ex-wives—he's had many of them, don't laugh—different names: "Hey, Maxine," "Hey, Sharon," "Hey, Mary Elizabeth." She would in turn call me something.

CNN/SI: How often do you speak with Ali?

Bingham: I call his house almost every day. Normally I see him at least a couple times a month. It depends what's happening. I make a lot of appearances with him, traveling with him all over the world.

CNN/SI: As someone who's known him for 36 years, what has it been like to see his condition deteriorate, from a friend's perspective?

Bingham: To have known Ali and to have met him in 1962 when he was loud—"I'm this, I'm that, I'll kick your butt!"—and said anything and everything he wanted to say, and said things back to people, and confronted people because of his feelings and his beliefs. ... To see him now like this is not fun. But Ali's a happy man. He knows who he is and what he's done, and he knows that people around the world love him. He has Parkinson's so his hands tremble, his motor functions do not work the way he wants. And, you know, it's kind of aggravating. It bothers him, but it doesn't bother him. He's on the road all the time, he's doing this and doing that.

CNN/SI: How did Ali come to light the torch at the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta?

Bingham: That was one of the biggest events that I had something to do with. I was the one who really coordinated it, and lobbied the Olympic people so that Ali could light the torch. It was a lot of work and calling, and eventually they agreed. And this was a big deal. Ali did not know about it until about a week and a half before.

He did not want to do it at first because he did not want everybody to see his hands trembling and everything. I said, "Ali, the world is watching you. You can do more for people if they see you. People love you, they're not going to be looking at that." And there it is. It helped everybody; it helped a lot of ill people, to say, "Ali came out, he did it. Why can't I?"

It was a big night. And the next morning I called my answering service and I had a lot of messages, and every message on there had the word cry in it. And even now when I meet people, they said they cried. Half an hour after him lighting the cauldron, we met President Clinton, and he hugged and kissed Ali. He looked Ali in the eye, his hands on both of his shoulders—he's a big, tall guy—and he said, "They did not tell me who was going to light the cauldron. When I saw you, I cried." It was a moment, man.