One of the best players on our Guthrie High football team was a cool “brother” named Willis “BoBo” Harding.
He was a 158-pound running back and was the hardest-hitting guy I ever went up against — game or practice.
I was 6-foot-2 and over 200 pounds, and the guy ran over me like a tank. But, we became best friends.
Back then, Guthrie had a place downtown that was for all Blacks only — bars, barbershops, just regular stores.
During our senior year, BoBo wanted me to go have some beers with him in his district. We never missed a chance to drink a beer; we could always find someone to buy it for us, ‘cause we were good football players. Ha-ha.
Anyway, I had an old 1937 Chevy that ran pretty good, picked up BoBo and we went to his side of town. He took me to kind of a food grill place, which had a couple of pool tables, and they sold beer. It was an amazing thing to experience.
So we got a couple beers, and a couple guys he knew were shooting pool. We bought in for a couple quarters and started playing.
After a bit, a crowd of the “brothers” started surrounding me; they didn’t like “Whitey” being in their domain.
I was getting a bit unnerved — out of the corner of my eye, I was looking for the closest escape route if needed. But right then. BoBo stepped between me and the group, and said: “Any of you even look at my ‘brother’ funny, you have to go through me. He is my friend and is welcome in my home.”
That’s all it took. The rest of the night was uneventful, and I got to know a lot more “brothers” before we left. An amazing friend.
When I came back from Vietnam, the first guy I looked up was BoBo.
That was in 1970, in the summer, in Guthrie. Found out he ran a trailer park and laundromat on the north end of town headed toward Mulhall, Okla.
So, I made my way over, found the place, went to the laundromat and a nice-looking Black lady was at the cash register.
I said, “Hi, I’m looking for Willis ‘BoBo’ Harding — do you know where I can find him, please?”
Now, this lady looked at me like I was holding her up.
She said, “Why do you want to see him, exactly?”
I said, “Well we played football in high school together back in the day and we were, and hopefully still are, good friends. I have not seen him since we graduated.
“Is something wrong — is he not here anymore?”
She said, “Well, Willis does not have many friends, and never any white ones.”
I said, “OK.” “But I will call him,” she said.
I waited about 15 minutes or so, and from the front door came through a huge Black man, with the biggest smile you would ever see — and he ran up and almost broke my back hugging me.
We both broke into tears. Best feeling I had in a long time. We had a great visit, laughed, and drank some beers.
I said, “Willis, you don’t have any white friends?” He laughed and said, “Not true. Got one.”
Best time ever. Do not know if he is still around — have not seen him since. But I loved that man.
There is no proof of any of this except for an old man’s memory. But even at almost 79, it is just as clear in my head as if it was yesterday.
God Bless. -- ol’ Gary T.