A Conversation between Two Harlem Legends

In May 2005, I was in Percy Sutton’s office when he telephoned his good friend, Congressman Charles Rangel, at his office in Washington, D.C. Rather than ask me to leave, he begged me to stay.

I was interested in interviewing both of them and he felt this would be an ideal opportunity to get the job done. He advised Rep. Rangel that I was in the office and the congressman said it was all right. Sutton passed away on Dec. 26, 2009, at the age of 89. Here are portions of his conversation with Rangel that I transcribed from my tape recorder but never published.

“For more than thirty-five years Congressman Rangel and I have been close friends,” said Sutton, chairman emeritus of the Inner City Broadcasting Corp., “and we have never had a serious disagreement about anything. I think he’s been sophisticated enough to avoid one.”

“And this friendship has been maintained without us ever having had lunch or dinner or been to a bar together,” said Rangel, who was on a speaker phone.  “We don’t have to call each other every day or even every week because we know where we stand.”

Their beginning was rather inauspicious. They were on opposite sides of a political campaign in 1963. Rangel, a graduate of St. John’s Law School and an assistant U.S. attorney for the Southern District, sought his first elected position against Harlem stalwart Lloyd Dickens, in a contest to head the 11th Assembly District. Sutton, who earned his juris doctorate from Brooklyn Law School, was an emerging political leader backing Dickens.

“It was a bloody political community back then,” Rangel recalled, “and after I was defeated I told Percy how much I admired him and that I wanted to join forces with him.  We became friends and we’ve never looked back.”

Sutton said he knew about Rangel long before he met him.  “I knew Charles and his brother Ralph,” he asserted. “I called Charles ‘Pretty Boy Rangel’ because he resembled my brother, Oliver. He was like a Greek god. And he’s right. Once we met there was no looking back.”

When they did look back, they saw a common trail of success that led them to becoming key powerbrokers in Harlem. Given their ties, many of their accomplishments dovetailed. “First of all, you have to understand that we inherited a Harlem that was in pretty bad shape,” Rangel explained. “There were abandoned buildings with windows painted on them to give an appearance that they were occupied. For the most part, 125th Street was deserted.”

Harlem would be a depressed zone for more than a decade before the two movers began to shake things up economically and politically.   

“It was Percy’s idea that I run against Adam [Clayton] Powell for Congress,” Rangel laughed.  “Without his support I never would have thought of running for the seat.” Since Powell was residing in Bimini and less than attentive to his turf they decided the legendary representative was vulnerable. At least, for two aspiring politicians tutored by J. Raymond Jones, the “Harlem Fox,” it was something worth considering.

“Charlie won by a narrow margin, barely beating Adam by 160 votes in the Democratic primary, which was tantamount to a victory in the general election,” Sutton said. “I jokingly called him Landslide Rangel.” That was in 1970 and Sutton’s career was also in full bloom as Manhattan Borough President, a position he would hold from 1966 to 1977.

In the 1980s, their mutual respect for each other brought the native of Harlem, Rangel, back in conjunction with his “older brother” from San Antonio, who first came to Harlem when he was twelve. “When Percy bought the Apollo in 1981 he not only renovated the theater, he rejuvenated Harlem,” Rangel boomed. “Soon it was like Shangri La and the entertainment palace was back in business.”

“I couldn’t have done it without the Congressman validating the loan I needed,” Sutton interrupted. That loan, along with money he had accrued from the success of Inner City, he was able to purchase the Apollo for a quarter of million dollars. Shortly thereafter the theater was designated a New York City landmark and listed on the National Register of historic places. At the center of this revival, over the next seven years, there were a number of nationally televised events from the venue. In 1992, the Apollo Theatre Foundation Inc. (the Apollo), a non-profit organization, was founded. And, of course, Rangel was placed on the board. With the marquee of the mecca of entertainment aglow, Sutton eventually expanded operations to include a recording studio and sound stage.  Then came trouble.

Rangel, then chairman of the Apollo Foundation’s board, was the source of an attack by the New York Daily News that charged him with mismanagement and signing a sweetheart licensing deal with Sutton’s television broadcast “It’s Showtime at the Apollo.” The newspaper garnered a Pulitzer Prize for its accusations, but the State Attorney General was unable to find any criminal intent that would make an indictment stick.  Having been absolved, neither Rangel nor Sutton had any comments then or now on the matter. The Apollo is now under the jurisdiction of Time Warner.

Both men looked back on the battles around the Apollo as ancient history, pretty much the way they viewed their war years in which they served with distinction — Sutton as a fabled Tuskegee Airman and Rangel as a decorated hero during the Korean conflict. “What you have to understand about all this is that Percy is ten years older than I am [Rangel was born June 11, 1930], participated in the Civil Rights movement, and provided me with the experience to help launch the Congressional Black Caucus,” Rangel said, getting back to their friendship and leaving the scuttlebutt behind. “In Harlem he is a legend.”

“I’m only a legend when you’re not around,” Sutton quipped.

Like Rangel, Sutton was involved in programs to ensure economic stability in Harlem. His mere presence as a lifelong resident of Harlem demonstrated his faith and belief in Harlem. When he walked to his office on 125th Street, he was recognized by hundreds of people, all of whom felt inspired that such an eminently successful man still chose to make his home in Harlem. “I think Harlem has been as good to me as I have been to it,” Sutton said.  

Perhaps the only thing more enduring than the friendship between Sutton and Rangel is their love affair with Harlem. The legends are inextricably linked to each other and tied forever to their beloved community. The way they kidded each other without rancor or remorse was evidence of their long friendship. When asked if they put their heads together on their support of Manhattan Borough President C. Virginia Fields for mayor, Sutton laughed. “I waited to get his call on this,” he said.

The two strongly endorsed Inez Dickens to replace the outgoing Bill Perkins, who couldn’t run again because of term limits. That Sutton and Rangel backed the daughter of the man who was instrumental in bringing them together is an irony not wasted on Sutton.

“You might say with our support of Ms. Dickens our friendship has come full circle,” Sutton chuckled. “Charlie and Inez are co-leaders in their district, and I should also note that Dickens once loaned me $250,000 back in 1977 and that I took his place in the state assembly in which he supported me. Like his daughter, he was a remarkable person.”

When Rangel said he had to report back to a meeting, Sutton let him know that he would be watching him. “I saw you yesterday on television,” Sutton claimed.  “I look for you every night.”

“You probably saw me rushing to catch the last portions of the House leadership discussion on the filibuster issue,” Rangel explained. 

Their friendship was not high maintenance, but that didn’t mean the one couldn’t look for the other on television, or that the other couldn’t take time to hear from him via a conference call. Taking time and looking out for each other is what a good friendship is all about, even for two much esteemed, very busy Harlem legends.