There are people who study history. And then there are people who lived it. Walt “Clyde” Frazier and the late New Jersey State Senator Ronald Rice lived it.
I recently had the opportunity to spend an evening in Charleston, South Carolina, with former Knick Walt Frazier. After that remarkable evening—and after reflecting on my more than 20 years of service with Senator Rice—I thought it timely to discuss these two groundbreaking individuals.
Both were born in 1945 in the segregated South: Frazier in Atlanta and Rice in Richmond. They entered a world in which the color of their skin could determine where they went to school, where they sat, which bathroom they used and, far too often, which opportunities they were permitted to pursue.
Frazier learned basketball on a dirt playground at an all-Black high school in Atlanta. He was also a gifted quarterback, but he understood the reality facing a young Black quarterback in that era. Basketball offered another path. What a road it became.
Southern Illinois. The New York Knicks. Two NBA championships. Seven All-Star selections. The Basketball Hall of Fame. Broadcaster. Businessman. New York icon. And let’s not forget his role as mentor-in-chief to the 2026 NBA Champion Knicks.
But what I find most compelling about Frazier isn’t the rings or the statistics. He didn’t allow the circumstances into which he was born dictate the circumstances in which he would live.
Ron Rice understood that lesson, too. Born in Richmond under Jim Crow, Rice moved to Newark as a boy. He served his country as a United States Marine during the Vietnam era, became a Newark police officer, served on the Newark City Council and ultimately spent nearly 36 years in the New Jersey State Senate, becoming the longest-serving Black legislator in our State’s history.
I knew Ron. He could be stubborn. He could be tough. Over the year, Senator Rice and I had more than a handful of political fights, but we also stood together on several hot-button issues. You always knew exactly where he stood. For starters, Ron was tough as nails – think “Hilti X-U P8 Universal Nails.”
But behind that toughness was a man who had seen things that younger generations—thankfully—have not. That’s important.
Today, we talk endlessly about race, discrimination, opportunity and equality. Those conversations are necessary. But sometimes I wonder whether we spend enough time listening to the men and women who experienced segregation firsthand. Frazier and Rice didn’t learn about Jim Crow from a textbook, documentary or social media post. They lived it. Yet neither man allowed bitterness to become his identity. They competed. They served. They worked. They persevered. They succeeded.
That doesn’t mean they forgot what happened. Quite the opposite. Rice spent much of his public life fighting for civil rights and social justice. Frazier broke barriers simply by succeeding on one of the biggest stages in American sports and becoming one of New York’s most recognizable personalities.
There is a lesson here for younger generations. Listen to the people who actually walked the road. Ask them what America was like. Ask what hurt. Ask what changed. Ask what still needs to change. But also ask how they refused to let hatred or discrimination determine the course of their lives.
There is wisdom in scars. We spend plenty of time telling young people about the injustices of the past. We should. But perhaps we should spend equal time introducing them to the people who overcame those injustices.
Not because discrimination wasn’t real. Because it was.
Not because the road was easy. Because it wasn’t.
But because Walt Frazier and Ron Rice remind us that the most powerful response to someone who says you cannot succeed is to succeed anyway. Two men. Two different arenas. One lesson.
Know the history, but learn from those who lived it. And then keep moving forward.