time I talk, I get into trouble.” Harper, with a tight grip on her hus- band’s arm, got between him and his inquisitors. She had learned from some unlikely advisers, including Howard Cosell, to be direct with the media. “He has been talking for 52 weeks,” she said. “He is here to play a tournament.” The next day, she would relent to the demand, and Elder would talk some more; their joint press conference would last more than an hour. The year between Elder’s win at Pensacola and the Masters had been filled with attention but no material gain. Harper could not recall a single endorsement that came from her hus- band’s impending achievement. His golf had also been providing limited returns. A nervy, distracted Elder said he packed on the pounds that year, and his game slipped out of range. He had spent a harried March trying to find it. Finally, Elder’s long quest to make history was nearly over. He stepped inside Augusta National’s fabled club- house for the first time. A Black locker room attendant walked him to his lock- er. “We’ve been saving this locker right here,” the attendant said. The staff had preselected it, waiting years for the day it might contain something other than their dreams. T HE BLACK COOKS AT their rented houses were equally thrilled to receive Elder, Harper, and their friends and family. One night, they were entertained by Julius Scott, the president of Paine College, a historical- ly Black Methodist school in Augusta. “Nice and quiet, so welcoming,” Elder said. “Good food, too.” The houses also proved reliable sanctuaries. Dora Thomas, Harper’s sister, could still remember the peach cobbler and sweet potato pie that Mrs Ware, one of the cooks, prepared for them 50 years ago. “She was ecstatic that we were there,” Thomas said. “She treated us like royalty.” The reception was nearly as warm at the course. Early in the week, Harper sat down at a table in the clubhouse for a bite to eat. Her Black waiter, wear- ing a pressed white jacket, said she was the first Black person to sit at that table rather than clear it.
still-fractured land. Elder later recalled that Roberts was the first person to greet him when he drove up Magnolia Lane on Monday afternoon and got out of his red sedan,
career at Atlanta’s Fulton County Stadium to eclipse Babe Ruth as base- ball’s all-time home run king. The two men were the same age, and Elder knew the dangers that Aaron had
Harper by his side. Con- temporaneous newspaper accounts, including that day’s Associated Press report, noted instead that Roberts was out of pock- et, conspicuous in his absence. Harper remem- bered the same. “Cliff
faced during that fraught, shadow-long stretch of American history; he had wondered whether any of the fans who chased Aaron around the bases meant to murder him. Elder and Aaron talked in the leadup to the 1975
POWER COUPLE Elder’s wife, Rose Harper, was the first female player- agent on the PGA Tour.
Roberts was not there,” she said. Indisputably, Elder, looking sharp in a blue leisure suit and white turtleneck, was met by a small army of reporters. “I’m not talking,” he told them. “Every
tournament about fear and how to face it down. When Elder and Harper flew into Atlanta on their way to Augusta, Aaron had arranged their car at the airport, having given them the lay of a
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