In Liberia, football is the
leading game. It’s our pastime.
I think football is also the
leading game in most countries around the globe. So when you are a baller in Liberia,
your greatest achievement and/or desire (at least during my day) is to feature
on The Lone Star Ball Club, which is the Liberian National Ball Club.
By reaching the level of Lone
Star, a baller then realizes he has hit the ceiling of ballplaying in the
country which is the highest achievement of one's balling career.
In my day (I mean just in the
80s) at least that's what I knew; playing pro ball on an international level
wasn’t our greatest thirst. It wasn't a popular idea. We wanted to play for
Lone Star. And that was it! After all was said and done and we played for the
Lone Star Ball Club, we indeed considered our ball job done. The rest was history.
And there’s where I reached – played for Lone Star.
Having reached this
anticipated point, a strange and interesting thing happened to me. And what
happened to me is what prompts this authorship.
Before going to the issue of
my Flight with President Doe and all I experienced, let me first start from the
onset that gave basis to what happened on board the helicopter.
See, I originate from Maryland
County. By this, I mean it’s my birthplace. And there’s where my parents were
born and reared. And there’s where they have their last resting places.
Maryland is in the
southeastern keyhole of Liberia deep in the belly of the earth.
I spent most of my formative
days there. During my growing up days, I took part in almost every
extracurricular activity; from ballplaying, singing in school and church’s
choirs to student political activism, eating contest and more. Essentially, I
went the proverbial nine yards in community activities. So I learned a lot as a
kid. By the way, it made me an independent thinker and a patriot.
It all started in 1980. I
graduated high school at the top of my class. I think they call that the "Valetudinarian."
So I was supposed to speak on behalf of the class during the Commencement. That’s
the tradition!
But interestingly, there was a
twist of events.
I speared headed the committee
that selected the Commencement Speaker whom the Faculty did not want. I don't know
much about today’s generation of students; in my day you better get on the
"good" side of the Faculty. Or else, you'll be on the "losing
end."
When we selected the
Commencement Speaker, the Faculty didn’t think he was the “right” one. And that
placed me on the “wrong” side of the Faculty. They took away my First Place Award
and pushed me down to Second Place. In Second place you are referred to as the
"Saletudinarian." So traditionally during the Commencement you
introduce the Speaker. That’s it!
Being the man I have always
been; I'm not easily moved by neither big nor small things. The reason has been
because God has empowered me to create and recreate anything I want. So I let the
Faculty have its way. After all, I was graduating and moving on to other parts
of life. So why worry over something I could not change overnight?
During the Commencement I was instructed
me to ONLY introduce the Commencement Speaker and say nothing more.
I went on the aero port to
meet the Speaker. The Speaker brought with him his profile. It was well-typed
written and organized. I noticed it was very loaded with achievements. So I had
nothing much to do as far as typing and compiling anything. The Speaker made it
easy for me. But the Faculty kept track of me. It wanted to know what I was
preparing up to the last minute of the Program.
Why did the Faculty tried
unsuccessfully to humiliate me?
Well, if you asked each of
them today, they may give different reasons. But in my own opinion, they had a
justifiable fear. As a student political activist, I was explosive. “Explosive”
as in a TNT explosion, politically speaking. I took it up to task on a regular
basis. And so by inviting the Minister of Education as our Commencement
Speaker, they thought I would expose them.
But they learned quickly that
they were as wrong as they could be. I wasn’t going to expose them.
Another thing the Faculty realized
in the end was that it couldn't really stop me from saying what I wanted to say
once I embarked the Podium and the Program began. And so all the efforts it
made to break me did not succeed. In fact, I beat them to the game and I
benefitted from that “struggle.”
I introduced the Commencement
Speaker. But before that, I said all that I wanted to say. And all I said was positive.
The Faculty realized that and applauded me. Out of all that I won me a
Government scholarship.
This is what I did during the
Commencement:
Prior to introducing the
Speaker, I delivered a very powerful extemporaneous speech. And it touched the
soul of everyone in the Hall including the Speaker. The crowd in the Hall
totaled one thousand people. The applause sounded like noise from the throats
of ten thousand spectators at a ballgame. Suddenly, I stole the entire show. The
show was all mine. I felt possessed by Godly power. I felt like speaking in
tongues. Nobody could believe what was taking place at this Commencement. I too
could not believe it. But it happened! And the rest became what would shape my
life afterwards.
In the end of my introducing
the Speaker and making my salient points about Liberia’s future and past, I
took my seat. But before taking my seat, the Speaker got up at the podium and
offered me a scholarship from the Liberian government to travel to a
sister-African republic, the then Socialist Republic of Ethiopia. From that
point announcement on to the days I make specific mention of, my life underwent
a dramatic change. I would never be the same person anymore.
Here’s how it all turned out
to alter my life.
The very Government that
offered me the scholarship began to refer to me as “enemy” of the state. Even
though this action by the Liberian government did not scare me, but it was
serious. But I had to go on with my life. The situation altered my perspective of
life in a strange kind of way. The Government could do nothing to stop me in my
quest for better education and better life nor stop me from being who or what I
wanted to be in life. As a young man just graduating high school and taught by
my parents to forge my future in earnest, I was going to do what I always
wanted to - further my academic studies and remain an independent thinker.
After graduating high school
in Maryland, it was customary that one goes to Monrovia or other places to
further his or her academic studies. Having received the scholarship and
graduated high school, I went to Monrovia. But I was on the Maryland County
Ball Club for the Annual Intercounty Sports Meet. I had not yet graduated from
the ballgame. I was young and enjoying sports.
Normally, after the Sports
Meet in Monrovia, all of the ballers returned to Maryland to get back to school.
And I always did in the past. But this time, I was set not to return to
Maryland after the ballgames. I had graduated high school and was on my way to
college. I had a scholarship to pursue in Ethiopia. Even though this wasn't
college, but it was just a beginning of what would take me to college and
beyond.
When I got in Monrovia, I went
on camp with the Ball Club. Usually, all the ballers are placed in a quiet area
to save them the distraction. I don’t know this area that was selected for us
to camp (Chief Compound on Camp Johnson Road) would save us the distraction.
But there’s where we were all throughout.
My dad was at the Capitol. He
was residing in Harper City. But his work brought him to Monrovia. Every
recess, he went back home to see his lovely wife, my mom and the children. After
each game I went to visit with the old man. And he always was proud of my
performances both in school and in the ballpark. He always listened to the
commentary on the radio every time I played for Maryland. Hearing the name he
gave me ringing on the ball field over the radio in a spectacular manner made
him feel good. But one thing he never missed on is the advice for me to enhance
my education. Initially, he had a problem for me to play ball. Because he
wanted me to pay attention to schooling. But when he discovered I was doing
both exceptionally well, he didn’t mind anymore. In fact, he was one of my best
cheerleaders.
Since I came to Monrovia to
play ball for my county, I did not shy away from that responsibility. I was
always on the starting squad. Which means I must have been a good baller.
Because there were other great ballers on the Ball Club. Selecting me over them
gave me a real sense of responsibility. I had to deliver for my county. I think
I played three ballgames for Maryland that particular Season. Because the
Scholarship preparation activities interrupted my ballgame.
During one of the games, I was
asked off the ball field to go to the Public Health Center to get my shots for
my Yellow Book for my possible travel to Ethiopia. I felt really bad. Because I
was enjoying my ballgame when I was called off the pitch. But I managed it. I went
with the folks that were sent from the Ministry of Education. We went to Public
Health and I got my shots. From experience, the shots would knock one’s knees
together like a feverish child. And it did happened to the other guys who went
with us. Some took fever and stretched in their beds. As for me, the following
day, I was on the ball field playing ball. I was called off the field again.
This time, it was for me to go to the Ministry of Education to sign my
Passport. It was in the Evening. I went there and signed my Passport. Then it
hit me: that it was true I was en route to another country. It was becoming
more and more true the Ethiopian scholarship was real. Because initially, I
never took it seriously.
Next thing I come to know, I
was on my way to Ethiopia along with other folks, some of whom I've never met
in my lifetime. Some were university freshmen; some were juniors and some were seniors
at the University of Liberia and Cuttington.
I was just a high school graduate. So I had another level of education
to go through. Almost all the guys on the trip to Ethiopia were very smart. I
was glad. Because it was good for my mind.
I think it was a weekday when
we headed for the Roberts International Aero Port to take off to Addis Ababa,
Ethiopia. That Evening, all roads led to the Roberts International Aero Port. And
zoom, we took off to Ethiopia. I did not complete my ballgames. Later on I
learned Maryland did not go to the championship. It was my strongest desire to
take her there. But she dropped out.
Lots of things happened
centered on my trip to Ethiopia. But what happened and what did not had a
tremendous impact and forever changed my life.
Not to go into the
knitty-gritty of my Ethiopian trip, I will move on to my subsequent return and
how President Doe and I met to ride the same helicopter that will be the only
flight of any Liberian baller on planet earth to ever appear on a ball pitch
for a game in a helicopter and along with the President of the Republic.
This piece of history ought to
be significant. But it developed in a twisting manner. There were too many
ripples for a young man of my age at the time to deal with. But I had to. My
dad used to quote e Biblical phrase. And it goes like this. “Man proposes, God
disposes.”
After all the progress I made
both on and off the ball field, I was selected on the nation's number one Ball
Club - the Lone Star and then to Mighty Barrolle – a Premier Ball Club.
After few games and training
sessions on the Lone Star, a game in The Antoinette Tubman Ball Park was set. We,
the Lone Star, were encamped at the Holiday Hotel on Carey Street, two minutes
drive from the Ball Park.
The Minister of Youth &
Sports was Hon. John Beh. He worked with us. But for some unknown reason (s),
on the day of the game for which we were camping, Hon. Blay came to the Hotel
at 2pm and asked us to embark the waiting bus for the Ball Park. We were
confused. Because the game was set for 5pm. And where were camping was a
one-minute driving time to the Ballpark. Why did we have to leave the Hotel
going to the Ball Park at 2pm? If we got to the Ballpark at 2:05 pm, we would
have waited extra three hours for the game to begin. And this wasn't making any
sense to us. All we did was to wonder and ask questions young people will
always ask when they are confused.
The Minister kept telling us
to keep quiet and just go on the bus. And we did. If you knew Hon. Beh (may his
ashes rest in peace) he was an aggressive and a very friendly man. He was
always in a happy mood passing instructions. In fact, he referred to himself as
a “bulldozer” without “reverse gear.” When he wanted to do something, he just
went ahead and did it. As a result, he accomplished a lot for Liberia in sports
and other areas. So we had to follow his instructions.
As we went on and on, things
kept twisting. There was another twist: the bus pulled off from the Hotel
parking lot heading towards Sinkor. And Sinkor is the opposite direction to the
Ball Park. Our confused state of mind increased.
What was going on, we asked?
Could somebody tell us? Why were we were leaving for the Ball Park at 2pm when
the game is scheduled for 5pm? And from our camping area is one minute driving
time to the Ball Park. Worse of all, we were heading in the opposite direction.
We were not heading towards the Ball Park. Definitely we were spaced out. But
we remained on the bus looking over the windows like frighten boys scout until
we turned into The James Spriggs Aero Port. As we pulled in, we began to see
soldiers dressed in uniform and well-armed. It didn't make things easy for us.
We knew for sure we were not being taken to the firing squad. Because we did
nothing to warrant that, even though we were in a military government.
No one told us we were flying
to another country for the game. Put all of these together and we were as confused
as an army fleeing defeat.
Suddenly, all our fears and
all the other stuff were put t to rest.
The bus we were riding pulled in
the parking of the Aero Port. And Minister Beh walked to us and asked us to
enter the Terminal. But before that, we heard Hon. Beh on hiss walkie-talkie
saying, “Bulldozer calling tiger, over” I think “tiger” on the other end
answered. But Hon. Beh replied, “You can use your ingenuity?” And we all broke
up laughing. At that time when he was on the radio, we were walking with him in
to the Terminal. As we walked in, the quality of military men along the path improved.
It seemed like the President was around. Soon, it became true. Indeed, President
Doe was around. He was waiting on us!
As soon as we entered the
Terminal, the President came and embraced us. He was all smiles. He asked us to
take a soft drink each. We did. While cooling off, each of us received brand
new gears - t-shirts, shorts, socks and boots in the nation's color (red, white
& blue).
President Doe did something
that made us feel important. He told us how much respect he had for us and
that's why he brought us on the Aero Port to fly on the Ball Pitch. Some of my
colleagues got scared. They had never flown before, let alone in a helicopter.
This would be their first. And it was bound to be new. I don't remember what
exactly was running around my brains. I don’t know what I was thinking that
time. But I knew for sure, I had no choice whether to fly or not. All I knew
was I was ready to play some ball. At that time, my ballplaying spirit was darn
good!
The helicopter began to flap
its propellers. It was well-positioned at the take-off spot. The Caucasian
(white man) was the pilot. Then zoom, it took off. It took the first trip. I
wasn’t on it. Then it was the second. I wasn’t on it. I don't remember how many
trips were made. But I know for sure, I was on the last trip with President
Samuel Kanyon Doe. And normally, when the President keeps you to ride with him,
it means you are a good baller and he wants to use your popularity to add more
to what he was doing. And that's when this story gained its credence and
momentum.
My life from that point took
another dramatic turn.
Two other colleagues were on
board with me. I don't remember them now. I mean I don't remember who may have
been with me on that trip. I have forgotten everyone else besides the
President. Of course, when you ride with a President of a country, no matter
who else was on board, you can never forget the President was on board. Because
he is the reason why we were flying in the Antoinette Tubman Ballpark. More so,
if you had a memorable experience with the President, that experience will never
neither eludes your memory nor fade away quite easily.
It was our time to board the
helicopter. And it was provided by AMOCO – an oil company in Liberia. I am not
sure who got in first. Probably it was President Doe. All in all, we were
several hundred feet off the ground. Looking down from the helicopter, Monrovia
and everybody else were beneath our feet. Only God was above us. By this time,
I felt like Edison Arantes do Nascimento, better known as Pelé.
I could not imagine; here I
am; just coming from the keyhole of the country; now I am wearing the National
colors and riding in an helicopter with one of the most powerful men on earth
and he is the President of my country and the first citizen. No one, as far as
the annals of Liberian ballplaying history can hold and present, has ever flown
in a ballpark in the Republic of Liberia from 1847 to present. I thought to
myself “I am making history!” All of this beat every stretch of my imagination
as a teen ager. My mother was in Cape Palmas listening to the radio. Her son
was riding with President Samuel Kanyon Doe and landing in the Antoinette
Tubman Ballpark. This is something all the good ballers that came before my
time had never experienced. History was in the making!
My ballplaying spirit was
beyond description. I was so fired up I wanted to hit the ground and walk in
the opponents goal majestically to make my President proud.
On the Flight, we had Secret
Service agents. They were well-dressed and looking clean like a whistle. They
too seemed to be in the same good ball spirit like all of us.
All of a sudden two things
happened that will forever remain indelibly printed on my mind:
First, President Doe asked my
permission to start the game in my position as striker. And then he said by the
time he leaves the game then I can come in. Could I say “no”? No! I agreed. Remember,
this is the President of the Republic of
Liberia and one of the most powerful men on earth who can say “die” and there
you are. He had his own t-shirt and I had mine. So he didn’t take mine. I was
still in my gears as I was when we left
the Aero Port.
Then the second thing
happened. And that’s the crux of this authorship.
President Samuel Kanyon Doe
looked at me and said, “So you were militarily trained in Communist countries
to overthrow me?”
I was shocked and petrified.
From a good ballplaying mood I quickly drove into fear. Now, put this into
perspective: This the President of the Republic of Liberia; the first citizen;
one of the most powerful men on mother earth; a military man turned politician;
and a man of a troubled history of many abortive coups asking me such a direct
question? What could I say?
Notice, when the President
asked me this question, I have just crossed my teen. I was really, really
enjoying my ballgame and not too much about politics. Otherwise, I wouldn’t
have been on such a flight with the President of the Republic of Liberia.
His next question was, “So you
are trained to come and killed me?” Now he’s looking me right in the eye when
he’s asking these terrible questions. When I look on the other side, I see his
security men. They weren’t laughing. He too wasn’t laughing. I knew I was in
deep trouble for traveling to a sister African country that is Socialist. I
couldn’t reverse that part of my history. It was true I traveled to a Socialist
country. But was I trained to “kill” him? That wasn’t true. But how do I say it
to him so he doesn’t get upset. We are several hundred feet off the ground and
no one knows what’s happening up there.
Suddenly, I recaptured myself
and responded. I said to him, “Mr. President, I did not go to any country to be
trained to come and “kill” you.” I further said, “Mr. President if this were
true, would I be on the ball field everyday playing ball and riding with you on
this helicopter? If anyone said this to you, Your Excellency, it is not true!”
then he looked at one of his trusted men and smiled. He drew me closer and
rubbed my head and said, “Son, even if someone try to fool you, don’t do it. Because
it will not be good for you and the country! Come on, let’s go and play some
ball! Come see me after the game at the Mansion! You hear me!” And I said,
“Yes! I will. And thanks Mr. President. Let’ play ball!”
Next thing I come to know, we
were dropping very low in the Ballpark and I could hear the crowd going wild
and shouting the President’s name.
See, this was the very first
time a ball club ever landed in a ballpark since 1847 when Liberia became an
independent state. So it touched the souls
of Liberians everywhere even those that were not watching the event live
but were listening to the radio in the keyhole of the country. The “awes” were
great!
As a young man with not too
much on my mind, I forgot very quickly that the President of the Republic had
put fear in me. I was back in my
ballplaying mood. I was fired up. I was making history. And I didn’t want to be
left in its wretched place. We dropped down on the pitch with the President and
we began to warm up. I’m sure he and his security were still watching me and
thinking of something else. But for me, I was geared up for the ballgame. This
is a onetime thing. It doesn’t come around all the time. Even though I was too
young to know much about this, but I was enjoying it. And was having a ball.
“Preeeee” went the referee’s
whistle for the game to start. I was on the Bench as a sub-player. President
Doe was young. His energy level was great. He was doing exceptionally well on
the pitch I forgot I was one of the ballers of the game. Suddenly, President
Doe left the pitch and Coach JNJ called me in. Remember, I got carried away
with the President’s skills I forgot I was there to play myself. I took off my
boots and was just sitting on the Bench when I was called in right away.
The game stopped as the
President walked off the field with standing ovation. The noise from the
throats of thousands of people confused me. I couldn’t locate my ball shoes.
When I found it, the game was stopped for more than 40 seconds. Boom! I was on
the pitch. And boy-o-boy, I was possessed. My first encounter was a header the
vibrated on the aluminum pole thunderously. By then I knew the “die was cast.”
I had to score, and I did!
After the game, I used my
invitation to visit the Executive Mansion. The President was eager to see and
speak with me. At least, that was my impression. We ate and drank together. We
talked on the same issue he raised with me on the helicopter and I responded by
saying that my career was ahead of me. If I wanted to be a politician when the
time arrived, I would. But for now, I was enjoying my youthful days playing
ball and pursuing my academic education.
After all, I learned one good
thing about the man, the politician and the leader. He was good in all the
areas. His problem was, like most leaders, the people around him were not good
at all. In my opinion, President Doe was the best President of this country
that .
In my opinion, President Doe
was the best President of this country that changed the notion people had about
ballers. They referred to us as “grona” boys, which mean we were useless
people. Doe gave us our true meaning and worth. Had President Doe lived when
Liberia was faced with the challenge to go to the World Cup, Liberia would have
gone and possibly brought the Trophy. It was during Doe’s administration we
knew we were great ball nation. And that we were capable of roaming all
ballparks around the world starting from the S. K. D. Sports Complex to Wembley
Stadium.
Samuel Kanyon Doe is gone
forever. But we are still a great ball nation. There will still be more “George
Weahs” and “Thomas Bedells.” But never again will there be another Samuel
Kanyon Doe. He was unique in himself and came in his own time that no one can
emulate.
I am Thomas G. Bedell, a
volunteer worker; working and speaking on the ground in Liberia and a victim of
police brutality.
