I only remember talking with three, and I'm not really a person that would approach a public figure. The only reason I did on these occasions was because I either didn't know who they were, or to find out if they were who they were. The last two were professional boxers. So you know that could have been risky if I had said the wrong thing, in which I almost did both times

. Now I remember two more. To be honest, all these incidents had the potential to turn out some what negative. I mentioned one here when me and my terminally ill brother met Paul Mooney in 2015, as he was entering a secret entrance to the Howard Theater, when he performed before dikk Gregory. That whole thing could have been taken either way. Since I already did a post on that, there's no need to repeat it here.
Anyway my first time conversating with a public figure was when I was on Christmas break, during my freshman year at the U of MD, when I was sitting on Cloud 9. I was at this Christmas party in the hood in Landover, MD, and me and this older brother in his late 20's was talking trash. He seemed to have had this prejudice towards me, when I told him I was going to the U of MD. For some reason, he was arguing that urban kids had it rough, making me feel like I was some how spoon fed because I was going to Maryland, and living on campus at the time. I had no idea I was talking to the Washington Redskins (their former name) former wide receiver Frank Grant. I had watched him since I was in the 5th grade, when I saw him in one of his first pre-season games, where he caught a 60 yard touch down. I always felt he was underrated. This encouraged me to wear number 46, his old jersey number, when I played boys club football. Frank Grant played behind wide-receiver Roy Jefferson, and beside the legendary wide-receiver Charlie Taylor. Also at this party was Washingtons' former linebacker Harold McClinton, who was tragically struck and killed by a car almost a year later. They both had just retired from the Washington Football Team, and were involved with helping inner-city youth. Harold McLinton was cool, and stayed out of me and Frank Grants little debate. When they stopped the party, and gave a special thanks to Harold McLinton and Frank Grant, I was stunned finding out who they were. Btw, it was a pretty small crowd at this party. When Frank Grant returned, I told him I had no ideal who he was, and that I use to wear number 46. Anyway, our little debate was now over. and we didn't say another word to one another for the rest of the party. I really told him I wore his number to let him know that he still had an influence on young brothers like me, who was going to PWI's like the U of Maryland. Frank Grant really knew nothing about the hood I grew up in, and he had no ideal I spent the first part of my childhood in the roughest ghetto of DC, in the 60's.
Btw, this wasn't to put down Frank Grant. Tbh, I now think he was playing me all along, and probably knew I was from the hood, otherwise I wouldn't have been there.
This post was so long, that I think I'll save the other incidents for later.