I dreamed of my father last night (regarding Muhammad Ali) [View all]

[WilliamPitt]

I dreamed of my father last night. He died in February, but in the dream he was coming to visit. It was one of those frustration dreams where you can't get anything done, and also one of those dreams that keeps coming back after it wakes you up and you go back to sleep. I finally gave up and went out to watch some TV. That's when I learned Muhammad Ali was gone.

My father and I met Ali in the lobby of the Parker House Hotel in Boston. I was seven years old, and my Dad was a rabid Ali fan. Ali was, of course, standing in a crowd, so my father hoisted me onto his shoulders and bulled through the mob ... and there I was, face to face with The Greatest. He glowered at me, went "Boo!" and then smiled that megawatt smile. I said "Hi Champ!" and shook his massive hand.

My father and I made many memories together, but I think he'd agree that meeting Muhammad Ali was our mutual all-time favorite. Now, I'm no moonbeamer, but as I sat and watched the coverage in the darkness of the early morning, I remembered the dream I'd had and realized something: My father did visit me last night to bring me the news. I could even hear his voice: "Son ... wake up, son ... The Champ went down."

Losing Muhammad Ali was a little like losing my father all over again, but I have that Parker House memory along with a new one: An unexpected visit in the night. I can live with that.

Rest easy, Champ.