fountain
John W. Fountain biography
A native son of Chicago’s West Side, John W. Fountain is an award-winning journalist, professor, and author of the memoir True Vine: A Young Black …Read More
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Make hog heaven a safer place
Two months, umpteen buckets of sunshine, and nearly 2,000 miles on my Harley, I am still cruising along in hog heaven. All geared up and rolling across the interstates, over green country roads, bugs splatting on my windshield, jeans flapping in the wind and the …Read More
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Hip-hop morphed, became perverted
Way black when, before hip-hop became religion, grandmothers were grandmothers and everybody went to church on Sunday mornings. Like Stevie Wonder: I wish those days could come back once more . . . The smell of pot roast wafted through the house. Streets outside were …Read More
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The walk that talked: When cool went cold
Back in the day, I was never completely dressed until I had climbed into my “pimp walk.” The transformation usually took place on special occasions like Easter and Christmas. When I got all decked out it, I would strut out of the bathroom, feeling like …Read More
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Not one of ‘them,’ but one of us
Another dead body. Just another one of “them.” Not one of “us.” It’s “those” people. Over there. Not here. Not in my — our — own neighborhood. Twenty more shot in a weekend. Or was it 30? Or 40? Who cares? That wasn’t somebody’s son …
When deck of cards could be salvation
On warm summer nights, when the sound of blues music and card slapping filled our West Side apartment until nearly dawn, the game of bid whist was religion. Even if the “saints” at church thought playing cards was the devil’s business, it didn’t matter much …
Knocks, kudos for my views on Gabby’s hairdo
It was a simple note in response to last week’s column: “A poem about Gabby Douglas’ hair . . . Please watch, listen and share with the world!” I clicked the YouTube link and stood mesmerized as a coffee-bean-brown young woman, her hair pulled back, …
Why are African-American women criticizing Gabby Douglas’ hair?
If I were Gabby’s daddy, I’d tell her, “You are beautiful just the way you are — whether your hair is in gel and bobby pins, whether thick or thin, or fashioned in woolen locks, or trimmed in a short natural, or even in two …
Escape from the West Side leaves bittersweet memories
‘Make a better life for yourself.” “Buy a house in the suburbs.” “Whatever you do, you can’t stay here!” This is what they told me growing up on the West Side — the unequivocal message from relatives, teachers and most adults I knew with a …
We are not our titles and jobs
Once, while interviewing for a job at The New York Times, an editor remarked, “If you come here, John, I hope that what happens to some who come here doesn’t happen to you.” “What’s that?” I asked, puzzled. “They get a new last name.” “What’s …
Get a load of my perfect toes
At 51, I was still just a virgin. A man. Looking for my first pedi. It was my secret mission on Wednesday morning, one I dared not let the guys at “the roundtable”— my morning coffee drinking crew — in on. Securing my Harley, and …
Dear first lady, children need you
‘Like so many Americans all across the country, Barack and I were shocked and heartbroken by the horrific act of violence committed in Arizona this past weekend. . . . As parents, an event like this hits home especially hard. . . . And it …
Why can’t we stop the killing?
“In the midst of all these challenges, however, my single most important responsibility as President is to keep the American people safe. It’s the first thing that I think about when I wake up in the morning. It’s the last thing that I think about …
My bucket list: Meeting Janet, writing a novel, Blue Angels
In the open night air, I rumbled around my neighborhood on my brand-new Harley for a spell. Then on Wednesday morning, I climbed back in the saddle for my trip to morning coffee. I parked my bike next to my friend Kevin’s — two Harleys …
Being a good father means doing your best
I believe that we as men have no calling greater than fathering our own children, and none more encompassing or more challenging. I have long believed that to be a good father is honor enough and a good and faithful calling. That calling is not …
Giving thanks for a father’s kiss
In a downtown ballroom, amid the chatter of an after-seven crowd, I received my first kiss, at age 51. At least, it was the first kiss I can remember from a man, from a father. It was a loving salutation from a man who has …
Education, college and work: That’s what’s cool
The car, brand spanking new, glistened in the sun as it rounded the street corner on my old West Side block. The kids, and even some adults, oohed and ahhed as its driver — a young brother with money to burn — leaned coolly behind …
Vrooom, vroom, here I come!
‘Another good column, my friend. Dibs on your donated organs, if I need them!!!” So read the note from a friend in response to last week’s column on my decision to take up motorcycle riding. Ha-ha . . . I should have known this was …
Finding a reason to ride
Fuel “on.” Ignition key turned. Gear in neutral. Engine to run position. Squeeze the clutch. Start her up. Vroom! Baby steps. My instructors watch like drill sergeants as I motor around the course on a cool sunny morning, slowing at turns, then turning my head …
African American, because I can’t forget
A recent letter from a reader: “Hi John, I just wanted to let you know that I love your column in the Sun-Times. . . . I wish you would just call yourself “American” though. . . . I’d be a Scotch-Irish-English-Dutch-Indian-German-Russian-Protestant-Jew American. Gets a …
My best asset: A mother who gave reason to hope
This week’s column is an excerpt from my memoir, True Vine: A Young Black Man’s Journey of Faith, Hope and Clarity and a tribute to my mother, Gwendolyn Marie Hagler Clincy. I took one last look around the apartment, moving slowly from room to …
