Honoring the life and accomplishments of the late Ossie Davis.

Mr. Speaker, I rise to honor the life of an extraordinary, artist, activist, and American, Ossie Davis. Just two months ago I made remarks to the House about Ossie and his wife Ruby Dee, on the occasion of their acceptance of Kennedy Center Honors. It is with great sorrow that I know make remarks on his passing.

I am consoled only by the fact that Ossie leaves behind a life of great achievement. Along the way he established himself as one Black America's greatest ambassadors to the arts, and one of this country's major contributors to human and civil rights. Born and raised in Georgia, he would lived the cruelties of the Jim Crow South. He also saw how his parents endured the struggles of that period. It aspired in him a desire to write. As he once said, ``I decided to become a writer so that I could tell their stories.''

In 1935 he would hitchhike to Washington DC, to study at Howard University. There he would study drama, with the intent of being a playwright. During his time in Washington he would witness the great African America opera singer Marian Anderson perform on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, after she barred from performing at Constitution Hall. The beautiful and inspiring performance solidified his decision to purse a career in the arts so that he would be able to share is culture with the world.

In 1939 he came to Harlem--at that time the culture center of Black America. There he would begin to hone his craft as a member of the Rose McClendon Players, an African American acting company. He would also meet and be influenced by some of the great Black figures of the time, such as, W.E.B DuBois, A. Philip Randolph, and Langston Hughes.

World War II would soon interrupt Ossie's stay in Harlem. In the war, he served as an Army surgical technician in an all African American unit. Shocked by the Nazis' treatment of Jews and frustrated by the inequities he saw in the Army, he returned to America in 1945 determine to bring about change through his work.

In 1946, Davis made his Broadway debut in the play Jeb, winning rave reviews. It was on the set of that play that he would meet his wife and life partner Ruby Dee. He went on to perform in many Broadway productions, including Anna Lucasta, The Wisteria Trees, Green Pastures, Jamaica, Ballad for Bimshire, The Zulu and the Zayda, and the stage version of I'm Not Rappaport. He is probably best known on stage for his role in A Raisin in the Sun (1959), a role he would reprise again in the play's film version.

He starred in numerous film and TV roles throughout his career. Though a veteran of the movie biz, he continued to star in some of the most cutting-edge films of the last few years. He has been a staple in almost all of director Spike Lee's films including, Jungle Fever, Get on the Bus, School Daze and the classic Do the Right Thing.

Ossie also distinguished himself as writer and director. He wrote or directed many numerous films and plays, the most well known being the 1970 film Cotton Comes to Harlem. In particular he wrote frequently about the civil rights struggle of African Americans. One of the plays Davis wrote and directed was The People of Clarendon County, about one of the cases that led to the 1954 U.S. Supreme Court decision prohibiting school segregation. He also wrote dramas about the brutal 1955 killing of the black teenager Emmett Till, the Montgomery bus boycott, and Martin Luther King.

He was a two-time Tony Award nominee, first nominated in 1958 for Best Featured Actor in a Musical for his performance in Jamaica. He was again nominated in 1970 for the musical Purlie, based on his 1961 play Purlie Victorious. Ossie would go on to receive many honors and citations, including the Hall of Fame Award for Outstanding Artistic Achievement in 1989; the Theater Hall of Fame in 1994; the U.S. National Medal for the Arts in 1995; and the Kennedy Center Honor in 2004.

Outside of the stage and screen, Ossie spoke out on some of the most controversial issues on the day--moves that were extremely risky to his career. With wife Ruby by his side, he would stand up for victims of the McCarthy-era witch-hunts, including the famous Black entertainer and activist Paul Robson. He also openly embraced the great leader Malcolm X, at a time when many prominent African Americans feared doing so. Whether through his participation in the March on Washington, to his suit in federal court to guarantee Black voting rights, to his arrest for protesting the wrongful killing of African immigrant Amadou Diallo, he remained an activist. A February 9, 2005 op-ed in the New York Post attests to this fact.

It is said that on the day that Ossie passed, the Broadway stages dimmed their lights in his honor. There is a sweet irony to this, because the impact that he had on this country will never dim. Through his work and deeds, the legacy of Ossie Davis will shine bright forever.

[From the New York Post, Feb. 9, 2005]

Being Ossie

he never feared a righteous fight

(By Leonard Greene)

The irony in the death of actor Ossie Davis, of course, is

that the person most qualified to deliver his eulogy is sadly

unavailable.

If you ever led a people's movement, or spoke out against

war, or empowered the underclass, or fought for freedom, or

made men stand up straight or took a bullet while speaking

for voiceless garbagemen, there was no better man to speak at

your memorial than the man who married Ruby Dee.

Just ask anyone who crowed into Harlem's Faith Temple

Church on that cold day in February, in 1965, when the masses

said goodbye to one of their many martyrs.

Malcolm X had died in a hail of angry bullets, and those

who were also wounded needed to hear just the right words.

``Malcolm was our manhood, our living, black manhood,''

Davis said to the sad assembled crowd. ``This was his meaning

to his people. And, in honoring him, we honor the best in

ourselves.''

Three years later, after another bullet rang out, and

another strong black leader was silenced, Davis again

searched within, and found more words to soothe. Martin

Luther King Jr. had been assassinated the day before in

Memphis, and tensions in New York were running high

``How much, America, do you expect us to bear?'' Davis said

at a memorial rally in Central Park. ``There is not time

left. For every Martin they cut down, there must be a hundred

Martins to step into his shoes.''

Davis never did find his hundred. He never even found five

or 10. There could only ever be one Martin. So Davis did the

next best thing.

He continued being Ossie.

Often, being Ossie meant lending his name, voice and body

to a cause when others were silent or invisible.

Whether he was organizing the historic 1963 March on

Washington--where King gave his ``I Have a Dream'' speech--or

trying to save the famed Apollo Theater, Davis was as

dedicated to a righteous outcome as he was to getting his

lines right.

``I've known Ossie since I was a teenager, and he has

supported my efforts, sometimes alone, in the struggle for

civil and human rights,'' said the Rev. Al Sharpton, an

activist in his own right. ``Ossie was always gentle,

committed and supportive.''

Sharpton recalls the months after Amadou Diallo, an unarmed

immigrant, was shot to death by police on the Bronx street

six years ago.

Many prominent rappers, who had decried police brutality in

the lyrics they spat out over sampled beats, wouldn't step

outside their studios to actually protest against it.

But when Davis, 81 at the time, and his wife were asked to

participate, they wasted no time getting arrested.

For Davis, ``action'' meant something more than a word from

a director.

In the end, the Rev. James Forbes and the Rev. Calvin

Butts, two community icons, will share officiating duties at

Davis' funeral Saturday.

Despite the challenge, their task will be somewhat easier

because their subject--unlike Malcolm and Martin--lived to

see 40 years. Twice.

And therein lies the answer to the hypothetical that has

intrigued us for a generation: What would have become of

Malcolm and Martin if they had been allowed to grow old?

Chances are they would have gotten gray, and moved a little

slower--two fires that still burned, but would not go out.

They would have been dismissed by some as past their prime.

Yet they would have kept on walking, and kept on talking, and

kept on fighting for justice and good schools until the very

last breath escaped from their dying lips.

Just like Ossie.

Mr. Speaker, most people will remember Ossie Davis as the deep-voiced actor who paved the way for African-American performers. He helped widen horizons for blacks on stage and screen while fighting for civil rights from Washington to Hollywood.

Born in Codgell, Ga, in my district, Raiford Chatman Davis was known as ``RC.'' This was later misunderstood to be ``Ossie'' and he kept the name his entire life.

Ossie Davis grew up in Waycross and Valdosta, Georgia. He later hitchhiked to Washington, DC to attend Howard University to study drama. Ossie Davis had intended to be a writer, but his fame came from his incisive and wide-ranging acting performances over five decades, even as he wrote plays and screenplays and directed and produced.

Ossie and his wife, Ruby Dee, were married in 1948. Their marriage was a true partnership, and during their decades together they worked to make America a better place. They entertained us in the films and theater productions they starred in together. They were tireless activists during the civil rights era. They persevered when blacklisted during the McCarthy era. Nothing shook their devotion to each other or to the causes that motivated them.

In December, when Ossie Davis was honored at the Kennedy Center, Sean ``P-Diddy'' Combs said that Davis helped pave the road for two generations of black performers.

Ossie Davis said that night, ``We knew that every time we got a job and every time we were onstage, America was looking to make judgments about all black folks on the basis of how you looked, how you sounded, how you carried yourself. So any role you had was a role that was involved in the struggle for black identification. You couldn't escape it.''

In an example of art imitating life, Ossie Davis delivered the eulogy in the film ``Malcolm X.'' it was the same eulogy he had actually delivered at Malcolm X's memorial service. Davis was politically active, especially with the civil rights movement, and he was also an opponent to Senator Joseph McCarthy's Communist witch hunt of the 1950s.

[From the Ledger, Feb. 9, 2005]

Ossie Davis Was a Trailblazer in Life, Art

(By Wendell Brock)

Ossie Davis helped break the color barrier on Broadway, was

a quiet but conscientious force in the civil rights movement

and--late in his 65-year career in the entertainment

industry--became a picture of cool among a younger generation

of African-American artists, including filmmaker Spike Lee,

pop mogul Sean P. Diddy Combs and Atlanta director Kenny

Leon.

The tall, lumbering Davis and his wife, the actress Ruby

Dee, were a luminous and nearly inseparable celebrity couple.

Together, they received the National Medal of the Arts from

President Clinton in 1995 and the prestigious Kennedy Center

Honors last year.

But at the end of the day, Davis, who died Friday at 87,

remained a generous, easily approachable senior statesman for

the arts who never forgot his humble beginnings as the son of

a South Georgia railroad worker who could not write his name.

``He was just a model of how you can be an artist and an

activist, that one did not negate the other,'' Lee said

Friday. ``That one did not have to be scared that if you

speak out, it would kill or wipe out your career. It is a

great loss, but we will celebrate his life.''

``Ossie and Ruby are like the godfather and godmother of

American theater,'' said Leon, recalling how the couple

attended previews of his Broadway production of ``A Raisin in

the Sun'' last year and gave notes to stage newcomer Combs.

``Ossie is certainly the soul of black theater.''

Davis, who was in Miami Beach filming a comedy called

``Retirement,'' was found dead in his hotel room early Friday

morning. The passing of the tall, robust octogenarian with

the rich baritone caught his family and colleagues by

surprise.

At the time of her husband's death, Dee was in New Zealand

working on her own film project. A family spokesman said

Friday afternoon that the actress was en route to the

couple's home in New Rochelle, N.Y., and that arrangements

would be announced later.

Besides Dee, Davis is survived by three children: Nora;

Hasna; and Guy, a blues artist; and seven grandchildren.

Dee and Davis were frequently in Atlanta, where she starred

in ``St. Lucy's Eyes'' at the Alliance Theatre, and they were

honored by the Atlanta Film Festival, both in 2003. They

made frequent appearances at Spelman, Morehouse and Morris

Brown colleges, as well as Clark Atlanta University.

``He and Ruby Dee were like the Lunt and Fontanne for

African-Americans, and all of us as Americans,'' said Kent

Gash, associate artistic director of the Alliance Theatre.

``He was just always so real, and that was always so true

about his work, both as an actor and as a writer. He just

quietly pushed a lot of barriers out of the way and continued

to do this amazing work for an incredible period of time. . .

. He paved the way for so many of us in American theater.''

C.B. Hackworth, the writer and producer of the special,

said Davis told him he had been ill when they met him in

early January to do filming.

``He said, `I'm not at my best, but don't worry, I'll do it

as many times as you need.' He was a consummate

professional,' '' Hackworth said.

The oldest of five children, the artist was born Raiford

Chatman Davis in tiny Cogdell, Ga., on Dec. 18, 1917, and

grew up in nearby Waycross and Valdosta. His mother's

pronunciation of his initials R.C. was heard as Ossie. He

left home in 1935, hitchhiking to Washington to enter Howard

University, where he studied drama, intending to be a

playwright.

By 1939, he'd made his way to Harlem, N.Y., where he got

work as an actor and mingled with the likes of Langston

Hughes, W.E.B. Du Bois and Richard Wright.

He and Dee first worked together in the 1946 Broadway play

``Jeb.'' In December 1948, on a day off from rehearsals from

another play, they took a bus to New Jersey to get married.

``They were so close that it felt almost like an

appointment we finally got around to keeping,'' Dee wrote in

their 1998 autobiography, ``In This Life Together.''

``I thought it was a pretty good use of a Thursday,'' Davis

wrote with his trademark pithiness.

He appeared in dozens of TV programs and more than 30

films, beginning with 1950's ``No Way Out,'' with Dee and

Sidney Poitier, and culminating in last year's ``She Hate

Me.''

But perhaps his most enduring film legacy is his six-

picture run with Lee: ``School Daze,'' ``Do the Right

Thing,'' ``Jungle Fever,'' ``Malcolm X,'' ``Get on the Bus''

and ``She Hate Me.''

``When he started working with Spike Lee, it revitalized

his career,'' said film historian Donald Bogle. ``I actually

think he's better (in the Lee films) than he was as a younger

actor. He's so powerful, so assured.''

Davis and Dee often found themselves in the eye of social

and political change.

With a voice as comforting and mellifluous as a country

preacher, he gave eulogies at the funerals of the Rev. Martin

Luther King Jr. and Malcolm X, whom he called ``our own black

shining prince--who didn't hesitate to die, because he loved

us so.''

Besides his extensive acting and directing credits for

stage, film and TV, Davis was the author of eight plays,

including 1961's ``Purlie Victorious,'' a comedy lampooning

racial stereotypes.

In 1970, Davis co-wrote the book for ``Purlie,'' a musical

version of the play. A revival of the musical is planned for

Broadway next season.

The rousing gospel song, ``Walk Him up the Stairs,'' is a

highlight of that show. Sung at a funeral, it is likely to

have a special resonance when Davis' story returns to

Broadway.

``He took the hearts of millions with him, and I will never

get over not having him to talk to,'' said actor Burt

Reynolds. ``I'll still talk to him every night, I know he's

sitting next to God, now, and I know God envies that voice,

and I hope he listens when Ossie tells him his ideas of what

brotherhood means.''

Mr. Speaker, I rise today to honor Mr. Ossie Davis, an American legend. Ossie Davis was an actor and an activist who believed the function of art was to better society. He said he could not imagine art without struggle, and he could not imagine struggle without being knee deep in it. His worthy struggled ended on February 4, 2005, at the age of 87, while practicing the craft he loved so dearly on the set of the movie Retirement.

Mr. Speaker, throughout his life, Ossie Davis was knee deep in struggle. He was born in 1917, in Cogdell, Georgia, the heart of the segregated South. His mother named him Raiford Chatman Davis, RC for short. But when his mother pronounced his initials to the white nurse in attendance, the nurse mis-heard her, and recorded the infant's name as Ossie. Fearful of challenging the white nurse's authority, Laura Davis accepted her son's new name.

Mr. Speaker, Ossie Davis's childhood was not an easy one. His father oversaw the building of railroads in Georgia. A manager and supervisor, Kince Charles Davis was an anomaly in the segregated South. In fact, his esteemed position made the Davis family the target of racism and threats of violence. More than once, the KKK threatened to shoot Kince Davis ``like a dog.''

Mr. Speaker, from a young age, Ossie Davis took refuge from racism by plunging into his studies. He loved Shakespeare and dreamed of becoming a writer and an actor himself. In 1939 he followed his dreams to New York City, and joined the Rose McClendon Players. He befriended the intellectual giants of the Harlem Renaissance, basked in the glow of their brilliance, and was inspired by their passion for empowerment through the unity of arts and politics.

Ossie Davis made sacrifices for his craft. After an evening performance, he would often retire to a nearby park bench. But for Davis, the sacrifices were well worth it. Towards the end of his life, Davis recalled the moment he understood his mission as a black artist. In 1939, he heard Marian Anderson, who had been banned from performing in Constitution Hall, sing in front of the Lincoln Memorial. According to USA Today, he told students at Cornell University in the 1990s, ``I understood fully for the first time the importance of black song, black music, black arts. I was handed my spiritual assignment that night.''

Mr. Speaker, Ossie Davis believed he had a responsibility to his race and a responsibility to his country. In 1942, he enlisted in the Army and served as a surgical technician in Liberia. His patriotism, his heartfelt belief in what America could and should be, guided him throughout his life. He chose to perform in plays that showcased America's promise, while demonstrating its flaws. One such play was ``Jeb,'' an American Negro Theater production about a black soldier returning from World War II only to encounter racism in the country for which he fought. ``Jeb'' was an important piece of social commentary. For Ossie Davis, it was doubly important, because it was in ``Jeb'' that he met his wife, his partner in love and life, as well as in art and activism, Ruby Dee.

Mr. Speaker, the union of Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee was among the most fruitful acting partnerships in American history. Together, they made well over 150 films and plays. They also made history. During the fiery days of the Red Scare, Davis and Dee, who were nearly blacklisted themselves, stood up for their friend Paul Robeson, and for America's key freedoms. Reflecting on those trying years, Davis told the Boston Globe in 2003, ``I'm sure my wife and I suffered, but we never knew whether we were being punished for being black or being red.''

Mr. Speaker, Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee fought for an end to racism in American cities and in American film. They crusaded for civil liberties and protested for peace. They served as MC's during the 1963 March on Washington. They worked with black leaders like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, and Fannie Lou Hamer. Upon their deaths, Davis eulogized Malcolm X and Martin Luther King, Jr.

Ossie Davis understood the value of hard work, the potential for collective action, and the crucial responsibility of government. When President Reagan proposed a 50% cut in the National Endowment for the Humanities budget, Davis registered his dissent to the House Appropriations Subcommittee. He said, ``I was able to pull myself up by my bootstraps--but only because the Federal Government provided the boots.''

Ossie Davis was an actor and activist, a player and a poet, a husband and a father, an example to us all. Mr. Speaker, my words are insufficient to memorialize this great man. Instead, I leave you with Ossie Davis's wise words, from an interview with Tavis Smiley on National Public Radio. ``We can't float through life, we can't be incidental or accidental. We must fix our gaze on a guiding star as soon as one comes up on the horizon. And once we've attached ourselves to that star, we must keep our eyes on it and our hands on the plough.''

Mr. Speaker, let us let Ossie Davis's words be our guiding star. May he rest in peace.

Mr. Speaker, I thank the gentleman for yielding me this time. First, I would like to thank the gentlewoman from California (Leader Pelosi) and the gentleman from Texas (Leader DeLay) and the members of the Committee on Government Reform; the gentleman from Virginia (Chairman Tom Davis), the gentleman from California (Ranking Member Waxman), my good friend, the gentleman from Illinois (Mr. Davis), as well as their staffs, for helping to move this important resolution, H. Res. 69, to the floor as quickly as they did. Let me also thank the gentleman from Georgia (Mr. Kingston), who represents Georgia's first district which includes the town of Cogdell, Georgia, the birth place of Ossie Davis and, Waycross, Georgia, where Mr. Davis grew up, for his cosponsorship and for his efforts to bring this resolution to the floor in short order. Also, I thank my colleague, the gentleman from Georgia (Mr. Westmoreland), for his efforts and his activity in helping to honor this great Georgian.

We are here today to honor a great American, a veteran, a civil rights leader, a social justice activist, and a tremendous talent, Mr. Ossie Davis. We lost him this past Friday, February 4, at the age of 87.

Ossie once said, ``Struggle is strengthening. Battling with evil gives us the power to battle evil even more.'' Empowered and inspired by his own struggle, Ossie fought for what was right. He fought with his voice, with his example, with his art.

Above all, Ossie Davis was an artist. The eldest of five children, Ossie Davis

grew up with the gruesome realities of lynchings and the Ku Klux Klan, yet he was inspired by Shakespeare. At the age of 18 with nothing more than a $10 bill and the dream of becoming a playwright, Ossie Davis hitchhiked from rural Georgia to Washington, D.C., where he studied at Howard University. He left school 3 years later only to live his dream of becoming a writer and an actor with the Rose McClendon Players in Harlem in 1939.

His acting career was interrupted in World War II when the Army sent him to Liberia, where he served at the Army's first black station hospital before being transferred to Special Services to write and produce stage shows for the troops.

He returned to the States committed to the power of art and its capacity to make viewers more human, to teach them to live.

He was a trailblazer for African Americans on stage. He debuted on Broadway in 1946 in ``Jeb,'' and while the show ran for only 9 days, it was during that production that he met his wife, actress Ruby Dee. I would be negligent if I did not recognize and highlight the importance of this event as it inspired the marriage of one of the most revered and important couples ever to appear on stage and screen.

Ossie appeared in dozens of TV programs and more than 30 films, beginning with the 1950's ``No Way Out,'' with Dee and Sidney Poitier, and culminating with last year's ``She Hate Me.'' As a playwright, he was most famous for the 1961's controversial send-up of racial stereotypes, ``Purlie Victorious,'' a production which would inspire his relationship with Malcolm X.

Believing that art and activism can go hand-in-hand, Ossie Davis never shied away from roles that took on the status quo. Rather, he sought them out on stage and in life.

When singer-actor Paul Robeson was targeted by the anti-Communist witch-hunts of the 1950s, Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee were steadfast in their support even as they were blacklisted themselves. They were brave.

They were at the forefront of the 1963 March on Washington, and when their friend Malcolm X was assassinated, Davis delivered a moving eulogy for the controversial leader, whom he praised as ``our own black shining prince'' and ``our living black manhood,'' words that at the time took courage to deliver.

Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee raised their voices for numerous causes, including support for the United Negro College Fund and vocal opposition to the war in Vietnam. But above all, Ossie Davis was an artist, his roles ultimately too numerous to count, yet all were memorable; and we take comfort that he left this world doing what he loved.

As Spike Lee said, ``For an actor, if you've got to go, that's the way to go out, still working, still ready to go.''

I know that my colleagues will now join me in recognizing the tremendous achievements and body of work that Ossie Davis has left as his legacy. Our sincerest condolences go out his family and all who knew and loved him.

But this is why we today in the United States House of Representatives join in consideration of H. Res. 69, which recognizes the extraordinary contributions to the Nation of the late Ossie Davis, for his service to the Nation in the military, as a civil rights leader and as an actor, and honors him as a great American and pioneer in the annals of American history, and expresses its deepest condolences upon his death to his wife, Ruby Dee Davis, his other family members and all of his friends and fans across the world.

Thank you, Ossie. We will miss you.

Mr. Speaker, I thank my friend and colleague for his leadership in managing this very special tribute that a very distinguished Member of Congress, the gentleman from Georgia (Mr. Bishop), has allowed us to be able to join him on. I thank the gentleman from Georgia (Mr. Bishop) for letting us acknowledge to the world our appreciation and respect for Ossie Davis and for Ruby Dee.

Ossie Davis belonged to the world, and he belonged to those of us in America, regal, tall, forthright and honest and certainly an enormous story teller. I understand now that he is a son of Georgia, the red soil of Georgia; but in fact, he was a hero of America.

Thank you, Ruby Dee, for sharing him. Thank you for the exemplary commitment that two people showed to the world of 50-plus years and how pleased we were that we were able to give in 2004 to Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee the Kennedy Center Honors.

I stand here today, Mr. Speaker, not so much to chronicle all of the attributes and contributions that Ossie Davis made. When he was willing to stand tall in the midst of the civil rights era, when he could use his talents simply to enhance himself, he decided to use that eloquent voice to fight for justice and equality and stand alongside of A. Philip Randolph, to stand alongside of Martin King, to stand alongside those who could not speak for themselves.

Growing up in nearby Waycross and Valdosta and being born in Cogdell, Georgia, in 1917, one would think that he would succumb to being just a rural country boy; but he took those beautiful and wonderful roots and made them the strength of America and the strength of himself.

I will just simply say, may he rest in peace. God bless him and God bless Ruby Dee and his family.

Mr. Speaker, I am pleased to be here today to recognize the extraordinary contributions of the late Ossie Davis for his service to the Nation in the military, as a civil rights leader, and as an actor. I would like to express my deepest condolences upon his death to his wife Ruby Dee Davis, his other family members, and his friends.

Ossie Davis, the actor distinguished for roles dealing with racial injustice on stage, screen and in real life, died last week at the age of 87.

He was the longtime husband and partner of actress Ruby Dee. Ossie Davis wrote, acted, directed and produced for the theater and Hollywood, and was a central figure among black performers of the last five decades. He and Dee celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary in 1998 with the publication of a dual autobiography, ``In This Life Together.''

In 2004, Ossie Davis and his wife Ruby Dee were among the artists selected to receive the Kennedy Center Honors.

When not on stage or on camera, Davis and Dee were deeply involved in civil rights issues and efforts to promote the cause of blacks in the entertainment industry. They nearly ran afoul of the anti-Communist witch-hunts of the early 1950s, but were never openly accused of any wrongdoing.

Ossie Davis was the oldest of five children of a self-taught railroad builder and herb doctor, was born in tiny Cogdell, GA, in 1917 and grew up in nearby Waycross and Valdosta. He left home in 1935, hitchhiking to Washington to enter Howard University, where he studied drama, intending to be a playwright.

His career as an actor began in 1939 with the Rose McClendon Players in Harlem, then the center of black culture in America. There, the young Ossie Davis met or mingled with some of the most influential figures of the time, including the preacher Father Divine, W.E.B. DuBois, A. Philip Randolph, Langston Hughes and Richard Wright.

Along with film, stage and television, the couple's careers extended to a radio show, ``The Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee Story Hour,'' that ran on 65 stations for 4 years in the mid-1970s, featuring a mix of black themes.

Ossie Davis, you will be missed.