Gene Frenette: Joe Williams' big assist was helping Artis Gilmore reach his true potential

For his entire adolescence growing up in the Panhandle town of Chipley and his first two years at Gardner-Webb (N.C.) Junior College, a quiet, introverted Artis Gilmore reluctantly lived within the boundaries society in the 1960s placed on Black people. 

No exceptions were made for a kid who grew to be 7-foot-2 and showed promise as a basketball player.

Four words told to him in his first year of JuCo basketball by then Gardner-Webb head coach Eddie Holbrook still resonate in Gilmore’s mind to this day: “STAY IN YOUR LANE.” 

The implication was clear. It was a reminder to Gilmore that the privilege of being a scholarship basketball player didn’t change the color of his skin. Thus, he was informed in not-so-subtle terms to make sure to abide by unwritten rules regarding the limitations of being Black. 

Gilmore was all too familiar with that world of inequity. He saw it every time as a youngster not being able to drink from the same water fountain as whites, being restricted to a “colored only” public restroom or being sent to a segregated portion of movie theaters. 

As if being an abnormally tall Black man wasn’t awkward enough, Gilmore noticed something else: his basketball talent and skill level could never flourish when his every-day existence made him feel uncomfortable off the court and denied him reaching his true potential.

Rest in peace:Former JU basketball coach Joe Williams dies, led Dolphins to 1970 NCAA title game

FSU remembers, too:Remembering Joe Williams: Former FSU men's basketball coach passes away

JU liberated the A-Train

One school, Jacksonville University, and its most storied hoops coach, Joe Williams, changed everything for the future Basketball Hall of Famer. 

So when Williams passed away Saturday at age 88 in Mississippi from a lengthy battle with cancer, it was impossible for Gilmore to not reflect back on one of the greatest gifts his first JU coach provided: the freedom to be himself and never let the color of his skin limit him in any way. 

Before Gilmore arrived on JU’s campus, the gentle giant lived in a completely different world. 

“I know what it was like growing up, the Ku Klux Klan coming through our neighborhood, led by the police, and they were throwing out fire balls,” said Gilmore. “Living where you had to go upstairs at the movies because it was segregated. If there was a white man or woman walking toward you on the sidewalk, you did not pass in proximity of each other. The water fountains, the whites-only bathrooms. Just all those unbelievable things. 

“I thought back to an incident at Gardner-Webb when they had this big [white] kid about 6-foot-10. I remember his name, but I’m not going to call it out. He was an okay kid, but he would rough me up and beat me up in practice. I knew what the repercussions would be if I had [physically responded].” 

Coming to JU only one year after Civil Rights leader Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated, Gilmore felt liberated. On the Arlington campus, for the first time in his life, he felt at ease in his Black skin because there was no "stay in your lane" mindset imposed by Williams or anybody in the administration.

Williams was "a pioneer"

Really, it’s no wonder the 1969-70 Dolphins shocked the country by making it to the NCAA championship game, falling 80-69 to the UCLA dynasty of coach John Wooden. Not only was JU a talented team — led by Gilmore, Rex Morgan, Pembrook Burrows, Vaughn Wedeking, Chip Dublin, Rod McIntyre and Greg Nelson — but the chemistry of that group and Williams’ leadership never allowed any kind of racial division to impede their progress.

Gilmore came to JU after fellow GW teammate Ernie Fleming, a Black player from Massachusetts, wrote Williams a letter wanting to play for the Dolphins and that he could bring a 7-footer with him.

“It was a different environment on campus at JU, and Joe Williams was the man that brought me in transition,” said Gilmore. “I wish there was another word to share what he meant to me. My entire life moved forward out of a dark period. In every respect, Joe was a pioneer. 

“Joe wasn’t seen as just a white man. He could bridge the gap, he could relate to us as young, Black individuals. Other white coaches would have been hesitant about making that decision [to sign Black players]. He had an inner perspective. He was unique with the wisdom to relate to us at a time when it wasn’t popular.” 

Gilmore shared how Williams would handle himself in awkward public situations to make his point.

During one stop for a JU road game, Williams brought the whole team into a restaurant. When he was told Gilmore and the other traveling Black players, Dublin and Burrows, would have to eat out back near the kitchen area, Williams didn’t even flinch. 

“Joe said, ‘That’s all right, we’ll all go back to the kitchen and eat,’ ” said Gilmore. “That’s when they changed their mind and said, ‘OK, we’ll serve all you guys [in the front].’ What struck me was the way Joe did it, with a smile on his face. He didn’t rant about it. That’s what made him such a unique individual. He knew how to respond to situations.”

Gilmore's best comes to life

Williams’ calming demeanor was unquestionably a big factor in the ‘69-70 Dolphins coalescing on the court. JU became the first college team to average over 100 points a game for an entire season, doing so without the benefit of a shot clock or three-point line. 

His relaxed, easy-going style appealed to all his players because it kept stress levels low and spirits high. Burrows, a 7-footer from West Palm Beach, didn’t experience the same level of prejudice and segregation growing up as Gilmore, but he admired how Williams managed the whole program. 

“Joe let everybody be themselves,” said Burrows, who retired in 2004 as a Florida Highway Patrol officer and called his former coach last month on his 88th birthday. “There was no shouting and getting in your face. If he had something to say to you, he took you aside and spoke in a calm voice. He never downgraded you. I’ve seen coaches holler at players with the intent of making them a better player, but that wasn’t Joe’s way. 

“I enjoyed playing for him. He cared about you not just as a player, but as a person. He was a father figure that wanted to see all of his players succeed not just in basketball, but in life as a whole.” 

Gilmore noticed that from the outset, starting with his coach staying on top of him when he needed to pass two courses at then Florida Junior College in the summer of ‘69 to become eligible to play basketball. 

Taking ability "to the moon"

By his own admission, Gilmore was a “slow development” player in many respects when he arrived at JU. He needed somebody to nurture him, to jump-start his maturity, and Williams — along with his successor, assistant coach Tom Wasdin — was a perfect fit to do that.  

“Joe was the instrument in my life that kind of brought it all together and helped me, especially making an incredible transition to the fact I could feel comfortable,” Gilmore said. “Because of that one year [1969-70], my basketball ability just accelerated to the moon. No one had ever heard of me before that.” 

Gilmore averaged an astounding 26.5 points and 22.2 rebounds during JU’s breakthrough season and NCAA runner-up finish. He would go on to play 18 pro seasons, leading the Kentucky Colonels to the 1975 ABA title. After 13 seasons with three different NBA teams, he retired as the league’s top field-goal percentage shooter (.599) and was inducted into the Basketball Hall of Fame in 2011.

What a spectacular journey it was for the 72-year-old Gilmore. And it might not have turned out so glorious had a coach known for his big smile and flashy white suits not come into the A-Train's life. 

Williams, who coached six seasons at JU, departed for Furman and won five Southern Conference titles, and took Florida State to one NCAA tournament and one NIT, lived a life filled with numerous basketball accomplishments. 

Maybe none of them were more memorable than his Hall of Fame assist in elevating a 7-foot-2 center to become the greatest player who ever came through Jacksonville University. 

Part of Joe Williams’ lasting legacy is giving Artis Gilmore the freedom, on and off the basketball court, to be the best version of himself. And not just stay in his lane.  

Gfrenette@jacksonville.com: (904) 359-4540   

Gene Frenette Sports columnist at Florida Times-Union, follow him on Twitter @genefrenette