

Certain photographs, or rather images, don’t just document history; they help make it by capturing a moment so powerful that it embodies and gives added meaning to a movement. Such is the case with the image of American sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos, along with Australian Peter Norman, accepting medals for the 200-meter race at the 1968 Mexico City Olympic games.
Smith and Carlos stood barefoot, bowing their heads and raising a fist with a black glove while Norman, wearing a pin in sympathy with their cause, stood silent but in solidarity. That photograph of three men, including two American sprinters, remains as strong today as, or possibly stronger than, the day it was taken. Some moments truly stop time and so do some, but few, plays. That image showed strength, solidarity, the ability of athletes to transcend any racial divides, and yet the courage to speak up even at a huge potential personal cost. Ron Wilks’ play, “When Gold Turns Black” is a fitting companion to that iconic photograph that blends just the right amount of personal and political. And it is one that should receive many other productions, presenting this heartfelt, inspirational story about speaking up, whether in sports or school, as an act of courage and commitment to audiences across America and, I believe, the world. This is a serious, significant show about struggle, sacrifice, triumph, tragedy and the way society sometimes punishes those who show the courage to take a stand.
Good shows often, but not always, start with good stories. "When Gold Turns Black” starts with a strong subject matter and story, about two Black American athletes in the 1960s who want to make a statement, although the story also gains meaning from their wives' roles. The two men, friends and thinkers as well as runners, are top Olympic contenders who meet with a professor cum mentor who convinces them, or at least confirms their belief, that they can use their power to make a political point. Don’t just run and win. Make that momentary victory “mean” something more. Compete in service of a cause, of equality. But the subject matter and the story are only the start. "Richard III" is not a great play because of the story of Richard III. Whether Shakespeare invented or adapted Macbeth doens't matter. He exists on stage as a fully realized character. Wilks, in this production expertly and smoothly directed by Count Stoval, has written a powerful piece that rescues this story from America’s peculiar brand of amnesia.
It shows the emotional toll, the consequences, on the athletes, and their family when they seek to take a sacred moment and turn it into something more. When we hear about some consequences far in the future that the families face, it's as if Martin Luther King Jr. has been assassinated again. That podium should have been the beginning of a brighter future, but instead it leads to upbraiding. What should have been and was a triumph is transformed into a painful tarring and feathering by the (mostly) White media and the public, although even fellow African Americans sometimes felt that they had erred by turning their triumph into a trial for America. The athletes are trying to cross the same finish line, if it exists, that Martin Luther King, Jr. described.
“I don’t want to have to run in Mexico and crawl in America,” we hear John Carlos ( Dimitri Dewes Jr.) say in the play.
These are men who are proud of themselves and want to be proud of their country and of how Blacks and whites are treated. They simply can’t triumph and then pretend to be proud of their nation, where Martin Luther King was assassinated days before. They look at standing on the podium as silent assent. The same inner strength along with physical strength that takes them to the podium prompts them to then stand strong and make a political as well as a personal statement. And the production does this in a moving way, with a script that’s so realistic that it could easily be turned into a moving teleplay. “Brian’s Song” has always been one of my favorite movies. I would say that this could easily be one of my favorite movies, if and when it is done for the screen. It just needs to be made into one since it is already a script that would fit as a "buddy" story tied to sports.

We see the men, in this production, trying to balance personal and political, loyalty to their life and wife, and loyalty to their belief. “I hate the Olympic games,” says Jes Washington, playing Denise Smith. The word “games” seems to trivialize the whole endeavor and those engaged in it. This is too serious to be a game. The men don’t only want to break world records. They want to make the world a better place, a very ambitious goal for an athlete. They want to fix, not just break, improve not just finish first or second.
“You want me to go win a race when they don’t give a damn about my race,” says Dewes as John Carlos.
“I want you to run in Mexico and win,” says Sania Hyatt as Kim Carlos.
This play is about athletes, Americans, African Americans, but also about couples, controversy, media, sports and standing up for what you believe. Very few people will win Olympic medals, but we will all have moments when we can stand up for something bigger than ourselves. These two athletes realized there would be consequences. They also realized they were right. They have since been honored and like many heroes only got the recognition too late. This play is about triumph and tragedy, what “The Wide World of Sports” used to call the “thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.” I believe these men went through a lot of pain because of what they did, but were proud of it. I also believe if they saw Ron Wilks' telling of their story, they would be proud of him and themselves.

Was all the pain worth it? Personally, I don’t think so. I seriously doubt I would have the courage to take a great triumph and potentially sacrifice it to make a statement. But I also believe people with a conscience sometimes have no choice. They do what they do because they feel compelled. I think this is an inspirational story and an inspirational play. When the show crosses the finish line, the audience is moved. We have seen these men win their race, running with and for Martin Luther King, Jr., even if it took decades to reach a destination that, really, remains elusive even today. The show got a standing ovation the day I went. I was standing too, for the athletes who spoke from their heart, and for the writer, director, cast and team who took this moving, meanignful story about two American heroes, and their famlies who stood with them, and brought it to life and, even if for the moment, if only briefly, brought it to the stage for us to see and experience a sense of triumph that transcends sports once again.
Beautiful