From Publishers Weekly
Williams, dean of the Ohio State University College of Law, tells the affecting and absorbing story of his most unusual youth. Born to a white mother and a black father who passed for white, Williams was raised as white in Virginia until he was 10, when his mother left. His father brought his two sons back home to Muncie, Ind., in 1954 and sank further into drink. The two boys were eventually taken in by Miss Dora, a poor black widow. Williams's many anecdotes are a mixture of pain, struggle and triumph: learning "hustles" from Dad, receiving guidance from a friend's mother, facing racism from teachers and classmates, beginning a clandestine romance with a white girl he eventually married. And while his scarred, grandiloquent father was never reliable, he did instill in young Greg-though not in Greg's brother-sustaining dreams of professional success. Along the way the author decided, despite his appearance, he would proudly claim the black identity that white Muncie wouldn't let him forget. Williams ends his narrative when he reaches college; in the epilogue, he regrets that "there were too many who were unable to break the mold Muncie cast." Photos not seen by PW. Author tour. Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Library Journal
Williams's coming-of-age years were hard. His father was an alcoholic, and his mother left when Greg was still in grade school, not to be seen for more than a decade. His father soon lost his business, and the rest of the family set out from Virginia for Muncie, Indiana to be near relatives. To Greg's amazement, having lived his short life as white, his fair-skinned father's relatives were black. Facing a lifetime of choosing whether to be black or white and, whatever his decision, opprobrium from both races, Greg opted for black. Today he is dean of a respected law school, a man who in the 1950s Muncie of his youth might have been patronizingly called "a credit to his race." "A credit to the human race" is more like it. Recommended for all libraries.--Jim Burns, Ottumwa, Ia.Copyright 1995 Reed Business Information, Inc.
From Booklist
The title sounds like tabloid sensationalism, but Williams' memoir is, in fact, a moving story of growing up on both sides of the nation's racial thicket. Williams' mother was white and his father was able to "pass," so their children, growing up in northern Virginia, thought they were Italian. The parents split up in the mid-1950s, and Buster Williams' alcoholism drove him into bankruptcy, so the charming ne'er-do-well took his two older boys to his darker-skinned family in Muncie, Indiana (just miles across town from their maternal relatives, most of whom no longer acknowledged their existence). Buster Williams encouraged Greg to study and aspire to great things and taught younger brother Mike to hustle, but he was unable to care for the boys and allowed a pious widow to take them in. In grade school and junior and senior high, Greg had to prove himself to both races over and over again: white girls were off-limits, of course, but the sight of him with African American girls of various shades also caused consternation. School records were marked to make sure teachers would realize he was "colored." Life on the Color Line follows Williams to college and to a brief, painful reunion with his natural mother. A powerful tale of a young man's struggle on the cusp of the nation's racial conflicts and confusions. Mary Carroll
Midwest Book Review
This autobiography presents the unusual story of a man who grew up believing he was white, but who discovered he had a father who has passed for Italian but who was actually half black. The family's split began his journey along the color line and the author's personal explorations of the social and economic differences between white and black worlds.
Life on the Color Line: The True Story of a White Boy Who Discovered He Was Black ANNOTATION
When the author and his brother were forced to leave Virginia and return to his father's family in Muncie, Indiana, they discovered that their father was a black man who has "passed" in white society. Life on the Color Line tells Williams' story. revealing how his courage and perseverance helped him overcome years of poverty, racism, and intolerance. Film & TV rights optioned by De Passe Entertainment. of photos.
FROM THE PUBLISHER
Gregory Howard Williams and his younger brother, Mike, grew up believing they were white and that their darkskinned father was of Italian descent. Then their parents' marriage disintegrated, their mother departed, and their father's business ventures sank into a sea of liquor. Pursued by debt and personal demons, "Tony" Williams took his two boys to his hometown of Muncie, Indiana, where he was known as "Buster," and where there was no escape from the truth he had hidden for so long. The truth was as plain as the color of Buster's family. Gregory and Mike Williams were the sons of a brilliant and charming but troubled black man who fled the burden of race until need drove him back to his roots. Suddenly Gregory and Mike discovered they were black as well, strangers in a segregated world about which they knew nothing, forced to learn the strategies of survival amid the poverty, prejudice, and agonizing absurdities of a time and place where racism flourished. In this extraordinary and powerful memoir, Gregory Howard Williams recounts his remarkable journey along the color line and illuminates the contrasts between the black and white worlds: one of privilege, opportunity, and comfort, the other of deprivation, repression, and struggle. He tells the story of his father, a self-destructive man who often neglected his children, yet had faith in his eldest son's ability to succeed in the face of nearly insurmountable obstacles. Of "Miss Dora," a loving family friend who gave Gregory and his brother the food they ate, the clothes on their backs, and the roof over their heads - all on a salary of just twenty-five dollars per week. Of the hostility and prejudice he encountered all too often, from both blacks and whites, and the surprising moments of encouragement and acceptance he found from each. Williams tells the story, too, of the divergent paths he and his brother eventually took, one defying the odds and the advice of teachers and counselors to become a lawyer, th
FROM THE CRITICS
Publishers Weekly
Williams, dean of the Ohio State University College of Law, tells the affecting and absorbing story of his most unusual youth. Born to a white mother and a black father who passed for white, Williams was raised as white in Virginia until he was 10, when his mother left. His father brought his two sons back home to Muncie, Ind., in 1954 and sank further into drink. The two boys were eventually taken in by Miss Dora, a poor black widow. Williams's many anecdotes are a mixture of pain, struggle and triumph: learning ``hustles'' from Dad, receiving guidance from a friend's mother, facing racism from teachers and classmates, beginning a clandestine romance with a white girl he eventually married. And while his scarred, grandiloquent father was never reliable, he did instill in young Greg-though not in Greg's brother-sustaining dreams of professional success. Along the way the author decided, despite his appearance, he would proudly claim the black identity that white Muncie wouldn't let him forget. Williams ends his narrative when he reaches college; in the epilogue, he regrets that ``there were too many who were unable to break the mold Muncie cast.'' Photos not seen by PW. Author tour. (Feb.)
Library Journal
Williams's coming-of-age years were hard. His father was an alcoholic, and his mother left when Greg was still in grade school, not to be seen for more than a decade. His father soon lost his business, and the rest of the family set out from Virginia for Muncie, Indiana to be near relatives. To Greg's amazement, having lived his short life as white, his fair-skinned father's relatives were black. Facing a lifetime of choosing whether to be black or white and, whatever his decision, opprobrium from both races, Greg opted for black. Today he is dean of a respected law school, a man who in the 1950s Muncie of his youth might have been patronizingly called "a credit to his race." "A credit to the human race" is more like it. Recommended for all libraries. [Previewed in Prepub Alert, LJ 10/15/94.]-Jim Burns, Ottumwa, Ia.