Mike Tyson and Dwayne Brown were African-Americans who achieved fame and made history in their 20s only to experience felony convictions, humiliations and some measure of redemption in middle age.
Last week, at age 46, Tyson returned to Indianapolis after a 19-year absence, while Brown died after a sudden illness, at age 50.
I met the imposing, larger than life, admired and feared young heavyweight champion Mike Tyson 22 years ago during that fateful July when he arrived accompanied by singer Johnny Gill at the old WTLC offices.
The next evening, I ran into Tyson at Black Expo’s opening ceremonies in front of the old Convention Center entrance. Tyson was not only in Indy for Black Expo and the Miss Black America Pageant, but following around his then “girlfriend” singer B-Angie-B.
At Expo’s opening, Tyson admired the pageant contestants and they squealed, waved and giggled trying to get Tyson’s attention.
Standing next to Tyson and me was the Rev. Jesse Jackson who saw the girls’ mutual ogling. He came over, tapped Mike on the shoulder saying, “Mike, we’re not here for that.”
Unfortunately, Tyson didn’t heed Rev. Jackson’s advice. Tyson was part of a generation that felt they could do no wrong; enabled by fawning entourages; fueled by money, drugs, alcohol and the ultimate intoxication – power.
Two decades and 19 months later, Mike Tyson returned to the city that was his personal and professional Waterloo.
The Mike Tyson I met last week was older. Wiser. Openly admitting his mistakes and the consequences of them. Though he still maintains his innocence of the rape in the Canterbury Hotel.
But the Tyson I talked with last week understood the mistakes he’s made with his life and the resulting consequences.
Like Tyson, Dwayne Brown seemingly had it all. In 1990, the young Morehouse man and Ivy League law school grad stepped up and out becoming the first African-American and youngest person elected to an Indiana statewide office.
Before Brown’s candidacy, Blacks had tried to get the Democratic Party to slate them for statewide office. But every attempt failed.
Then during the heady days of Evan Bayh’s first term, Democrats took a chance on the personable Brown and nominated him for a low key office, Clerk of Indiana’s Appellate and Supreme Court.
It probably was tokenism when Brown was slated. Put a Black on the ticket and Blacks will be quiet.
Brown’s 1990 campaign was in my pre-Recorder columnist and talk show days. As a young man then of 40, I wanted Dwayne Brown (no relation) to win; for a new generation of Black politicians to come of age.
Like many, I was skeptical of his chances, but during his campaign, I gave him some advice and wisdom.
After Brown won, he and I had a private “off the record” talk in my office. With his passing, I can share a bit of that conversation.
While happy for his victory, I worried that the temptations of fame and power could overcome this 28-year-old history maker. I warned him of the importance of staying away from actions that could hurt him, his career and our people.
I said, “If you’re gonna sin, don’t do it in Indiana.”
Unfortunately, the temptations of politics and power bit him. Less than two years after his election, Brown tried bucking the power of Gov. Bayh by running for attorney general, against Bayh’s choice of Pam Carter, an African-American. Democrats crushed Brown’s effort.
A year later, Brown began working to unseat Congressman Andy Jacobs in the Democratic primary. And just about that time, came the charges that Brown made his staff work on his campaigns while on state government time. That’s ghost employment – a felony.
The ghost employment allegations were bad, but it got worse. A TV station filmed Brown leaving a strip club during daytime hours. The TV stations and newspapers turned details of extremely mild instances of inappropriate workplace behavior with female subordinates into lurid, ribald accounts.
Unlike Charlie White, Dwayne Brown wasn’t convicted until after he left office; so he never resigned his office. Though when he was indicted while still in office, Indiana’s Supreme Court stripped Brown of his powers; leaving him technically “in office,” but powerless.
Mike Tyson and Dwayne Brown are like the many Black men in America who’ve made criminal mistakes; paid the penalty for those mistakes and are trying to redeem and rebuild their lives.
From all appearances, Tyson seems to have a loving marriage with his third wife Kiki who has seemingly stabilized, humanized and calmed the raging former beast.
After his fall, I rarely heard from Brown. He was able to resume practicing law. I saw him at a gas station once and talked to him a couple of times on the phone.
At his wake, I learned he’d remarried. Talking to his wife, relatives and friends, I was pleased that Brown had, like Tyson, accepted responsibility for his actions and come to terms with it.
Brown could’ve been one of our community’s lions. But Brown deserves to be recognized for the Indiana history and Black history he made. My deepest sympathies to his family and friends on his untimely passing.
I’m glad I was able first hand to see the redemption of Mike Tyson and sorry I wasn’t to see first hand the redemption of Dwayne Brown.
What I’m hearing
in the streets
Rep. Robin Shackleford sponsored a bill to force the state and local communities to provide more detail on contracts awarded to minority and women-owned businesses. Her bill didn’t get out of committee, but committee chairman Rep. Kevin Mahan extracted a promise from the state to provide that detail within the next year. If not, he’ll move the bill to a vote.
Interestingly, the administration of Mayor Greg Ballard opposed Shackleford’s plan, saying the city already provided that data. When the committee learned that was false, chairman Mahan was livid and the city gave up detailed data.
Unfortunately, it showed that while women and veteran-owned businesses have exceeded their goals, minority-owned businesses haven’t. In fact, since 2010, spending with minority-owned businesses by Ballard’s administration declined 20 percent or $14 million.
Why am I not surprised?
See ‘ya next week.
You can email comments to Amos Brown at acbrown@aol.com.
