Dwane Casey is trying to recall a childhood memory of growing up in the small farming town of Morganfield, Kentucky. Here’s the first image that pops into his mind.
“I remember (activist) Dick Gregory coming to town to try and get rid of segregation. I remember him speaking on the courthouse steps. I remember the Klan rally, them riding through town as he was speaking.”
What does a Klan rally look like?
“Guys with white hoods riding in their cars,” Casey shrugs. “I knew what it stood for. I knew someone didn’t like me. Growing up, you hear all these stories about the Klan — Klan, Klan, Klan. You think of the boogeyman.”
Casey can’t put a finger on exactly how old he was at the time. Eight? Nine? But he remembers the tableau vividly.
Standing there in the broad Kentucky daylight, surrounded by his neighbours, Casey remembers the fear. Fear has animated Casey’s life — fear of poverty, fear of missing his chance, fear of not doing enough once he gets it. Fear is a constant in every man’s life, and some are consumed by it. Casey chose to harness fear. It has driven him to the top.