Excellence is in our DNA in the Hoosier state. Those who went before created the legacies we are fond of remembering. For the memory to be meaningful, we grab hold of a humanizing element that allows us to identify the greatness and his own human factor.
If you were to ask any number of your elders around the late 70’s or 80’s whether they knew Mayor Bill Hudnut’s special assistant, they would most certainly say yes. He gave this writer one of his first jobs on the IU Medical Center campus under a national jobs program.
Charles Williams left a strong and lasting legacy consisting of what he built and his insight on how to lead. Charles lived in Indy and briefly attended Crispus Attucks before leaving to make connections in Chicago. He later quit high school to join the Navy. He was soon given orders for a tour in Vietnam. He remained after the tour to teach English and where he got his first taste of concert promotion.
When he returned, he worked for Indianapolis’ first NAACP chapter, later the state and finally, the Mayor’s office. He received an appointment as Special Assistant before the Mayor’s office had begun hiring Deputy Mayors.
During this period, James Cummings, Willard Ransom and Reverend Andrew Brown (yeah, like the street) created Indiana Black Expo to resemble Chicago’s Operation Breadbasket, later Operation PUSH led by Jesse Jackson. Volunteers were sent to Chicago to figure out how the PUSH exposition was managed.
Incorporating the concerts, health fair, job fair, exposition and the Black College fair all made Indiana Black Expo the largest gathering of African-Americans in the country (and certainly in the world). The Expo would draw crowds of 300,000 to Indianapolis in a July week for the event. Charles worked tirelessly to make the events work, nonstop all July, no time for doctors or nurses.
But our hero wasn’t finished leading, after visiting the Bayou Classic in New Orleans, he was inspired to create an HBCU event for Indiana—thus the Circle City Classic was born and debuted at the new Hoosier Dome. If that was all there was to the story, it would be a great example of legacy. According to Charles’ own account, God chose him to share the message and the means to avoid the prostate cancer he succumbed to.
Reverend Charles Williams told his disease journey in a book called That Black Men Might Live. It wasn’t just a memoir; it was a warning. He wanted the world to know a hard truth: Black men get prostate cancer more often than other men, and they are less likely to survive it.
Charles found out he had advanced cancer only after ignoring his body’s warning signs for years. He could have kept his health a secret, but he chose to go public instead. He knew that because people looked up to him, he had a special chance to save lives. He used his fame to push men to get tested and encouraged survivors to tell their own stories. His book shows just how much his courage changed the community and how many people thanked him for speaking out.
Charles Williams’ courage to gather and build an active snapshot of black life in America from industrial to entertainment, athleticism and spirituality was monumental and revolutionary. Installing it indelibly into the fabric of Indianapolis was pure genius. Using those platforms to share his own shortcoming was “god-inspired”. His is another local legacy that bears repeating and savoring.
We are proud of the “Hoosier Excellence” Charles Williams built into the fabric of Indy. But true excellence starts with being present for the next Circle City Classic and the next Indiana Black Expo. Take a page out of Charles’ book—don’t keep your health a secret. Make an appointment for a screening today. Let’s make sure “That Black Men Might Live” is more than a title; let’s make it our reality.
