The following is a sneak peek from our December Arthur Ashe commemorative issue, on newsstands now.
Arthur Ashe beat U.S. Davis Cup teammate Clark Graebner in the 1968 U.S. Open singles semifinal. They faced each other again in the doubles semifinal only an hour after Ashe won the men’s singles final. (Photo courtesy John G. Zimmerman Archive)
“Arthur Ashe, his feet apart, his knees slightly bent, lifts a tennis ball into the air. The toss is high and forward. If the ball were allowed to drop, it would, in Ashe’s words, ‘make a parabola and drop to the grass three feet in front of the baseline.’ ”
So begins John McPhee’s “Levels of the Game,” a 150-page story that covers, stroke by stroke, the revealing semifinal match in the 1968 U.S. Open — a match that was a window into privilege, politics and human behavior through its players, Arthur Ashe and Clark Graebner, a match that led to the first U.S. Open win by an African-American man.
McPhee, a staff writer with The New Yorker since 1965 who describes himself as a “miscellaneous journalist,” saw the match on television and sensed he found the dual profile he was looking for — two guys, essentially the same age, who had known each other since they were 11 through tournaments. “For years, I had been writing profiles on individuals. I had never written a double profile, and I had this idea in my head that one plus one might add up to more than two.”
McPhee convinced his editor, William Shawn, that he needed to buy a 16 mm film of the taped match from CBS, and he put in a call to request it. As fate would have it, the master tape was scheduled for erasure that afternoon. He then had to get buy-in from Ashe and Graebner through U.S. Davis Cup team captain Donald Dell.
For months, McPhee hauled a 2-by-3 movie projector with him along with four 14-inch-wide reels of film, and he would play the match, set by set, for each player separately, and for their parents, too.
In late September, we spoke with McPhee, who was calling from Princeton University, where he teaches.
Arthur Ashe Jr. and Clark Graebner (center) outside the Stardust in Las Vegas, September 1968 (Photo courtesy John G. Zimmerman Archive)
Richmond magazine: Where did you show the film and listen to them go over the match?
McPhee: I found Arthur at West Point [at the U.S. Military Academy], where he was stationed, and I spent a couple of days with Arthur there. I met Graebner at his house in the East 80s (in New York City). He lived there with his wife, Carole, and two very small children.
With Mr. Ashe, Arthur Sr., [in] Richmond and Gum Spring. Graebner’s parents in Cleveland, in Shaker Heights, Ohio, where they lived on Wimbledon Road.
I remember the [Ashe family’s] house on Brook Field was gone. The post office construction had not begun, but the field had been bulldozed and was ready for construction. The Brook Field that Arthur knew was no longer Brook Field. Mr. Ashe showed me around Richmond, and I spent the night out at Gum Spring and talked there.
RM: What is the memory of Arthur Sr. that still sticks with you?
McPhee: I just had a good time with him. I didn’t spend much time in Richmond at all because of that post office. But in Gum Spring, I remember his sense of humor and his volubility. He wanted to help. He kept talking and kept telling me stuff when I was there overnight. I saw him one more time after that, probably the following year at Forest Hills [New York]. … He was a funny guy. “How many houses you got?” I asked him. He said five: “I’m like a groundhog. Shoot at him, and he has another home to scurry off to.”
RM: What was your biggest break doing their story?
McPhee: The U.S. Davis Cup team that included Clark and Arthur was going to Puerto Rico to play the India team at the Caribe Hilton in San Juan [Nov. 9-11, 1968]. That was a great piece of luck for me. The U.S. team went down there to prepare, and they were there a week or 10 days early. There were no distractions, and I was the only journalist. We played football in the surf. … Stan Smith, Bob Lutz, Arthur and Clark. It was close little group, and Dell was there, too. It was a wonderful place to get to know someone.
RM: How did you conduct your work down there?
McPhee: I had that motion picture projector. Arthur would come to my room, and I would show him one set, and I would start scribbling. In the afternoon, Clark would come. Both Arthur and Clark were very open. They didn’t fend me off at all. One of the nicest things that ever has happened to me as a writer, as a journalist, is when Arthur Jr. told me: “You have penetrated our ranks.” It means more to me than a whole lot of other things.
RM: After the piece came out in The New Yorker, did you hear from either Clark or Arthur? Was anybody upset?
McPhee: Afterward, I thought Clark might be. I went to a tennis tournament in Orange, New Jersey, and it was the first time I had seen Clark after it was published, and I was bracing myself. I was in the locker room, and the first thing he said was, “Is that thing you wrote going to be published as a book?” I said yes. He said, “May I have a copy?” I was bowled over because I expected that Clark [might be upset]. Regarding some of the things in which [he] came off a little less than nobly, somebody told me that Clark took those seriously and how his fellow tennis players and teammates regarded him, and that Clark changed some of his ways as a result.
Ashe’s family tree that dates to 1735 (Image courtesy Joanne Blackwell on behalf of the Blackwell Family Association)
RM: On page 11, you mention that Arthur was planning his first trip to Africa, and from there you go into his father’s family history that dates to 1735, when a ship arrived in Yorktown, Virginia, carrying 167 West Africans who were then traded into slavery for tobacco. Descendants had a son named Arthur who married Mattie Cunningham of Richmond. In contrast, Graebner didn’t have any idea when his family came to this country. How did you find out about this enormous 6-by-7-foot canvas family tree that had one leaf painted in gold with Arthur’s name and the family’s crest?
McPhee: Arthur mentioned it, but it wasn’t anywhere near him in West Point. I did see it, but I don’t remember if went to see it at the house of [its creator and Arthur’s cousin] Thelma Doswell or if I saw a copy of it at Arthur Sr.’s house in Gum Spring. I did see it. [The tree, which had 1,500 names in 1968, now has more than 5,000, and the canvas measures 10 by 14 feet. A tree will be on display in Richmond July 26-28, 2019, during the Blackwell family reunion at the Graduate Richmond hotel.]
RM: Did you stay in touch with the players?
McPhee: I was still in touch with Arthur for the rest of his life. … I went to Forest Hills one time to see him, and this and that, and I’ve been in touch with [Ashe’s wife] Jeanne all the way. Ideas for films based on the book have come along, and I won’t go near them unless there’s Jeanne’s approval. … There have been amazing numbers of things that are no longer under discussion because they don’t go further or Jeanne doesn’t approve. I’m not going to do a thing unless she approves of it.
RM: What does this book mean to you?
McPhee: A lot. It’s like your kids. Not more than other books, but as much as any. That was a lucky, good experience. In those days, I loved the sport, and I’m glad I had the idea, and I’m glad it worked out the way it did. I put everything I got into each project, and when I finish it, it may not be the best it could be, but it’s the best I can do, and that’s when I’m done.
—Interview and condensation by Susan Winiecki