Black pride on display during every “Soul Train” line

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Updated: March 6, 2012 8:18AM

Before “Casper” and the “Slide,” it was the “Soul Train” dance line that capped off a celebration.

So I wasn’t surprised when people all over town formed a “Soul Train” after learning about the death of Don Cornelius, the inventor of “Soul Train.”

The death of Cornelius, who is credited with creating TV’s longest-running syndicated program, was indeed tragic.

At 75 years old, Cornelius should have been in the redemptive stage of life. Instead, he was apparently wrestling with depression and illness.

His suicide shocked as much as it saddened.

I spent a big chunk of Thursday looking at “Soul Train” reruns. Actually, I’d forgotten how cool the show was. Every week we got to see the hottest black entertainers. People like Gladys Knight, Marvin Gaye, the Chi-Lites and the Impressions did their thing, while an audience danced in front of the stage.

And while everyone and anyone could twist and bump their way down the middle of the line at family gatherings, only the most confident dancers would dare go down to the film studio and try to get a place on the popular show.

Heck, I still can’t believe I used to try to move like that.

Like others in my day, I rushed home from school to catch the popular dance program. My friends and I gathered in front of the TV to judge not only the moves of the dancers who strutted down the “Soul Train Line,” but also the loud and outrageous outfits they wore.

I had no idea that white people were watching, too.

In fact, I thought “Soul Train,” was strictly for black people. It was our show. Frankly, by the time “Soul Train” came on, we had given up on “American Bandstand.”

I was surprised to learn from my colleague Mark Brown, who grew up in a small Downstate town, that white people actually watched “Soul Train.”

“Soul Train was not only where we tuned each weekend to watch the performers playing the music we were hearing on the radio, but also where we were influenced in how to dress, walk and talk,” he wrote on Thursday.

Get out of here.

I couldn’t imagine that white people were sitting around grooving to “Soul Train.”

That “Soul Train” gave whites their “first, best window into the world of African-American culture,” as Brown wrote, didn’t cross my mind at all.

Of course, “Soul Train” was about a lot more than dancing.

Indeed, “soul” had nothing to do with the size of an afro or the color of the bell-bottoms. Soul wasn’t even about the dance skills. Soul was about pride. And black pride was on display every time someone gyrated down a “Soul Train” line.

It is satisfying to know, especially during this Black History Month, that Don Cornelius’ contribution was not in vain.

A note on my Tuesday column

In a letter to the editor published on Friday, Sarah Hainds of the Chicago Teachers Union called upon Phyllis Lockett, CEO of New Schools For Chicago, to apologize to children in neighborhood schools.

Hainds was referring to a quote attributed to Lockett that appeared in my column published on Tuesday.

Unfortunately, I transcribed one word incorrectly in that quote. What Lockett actually said was this: “Unfortunately, if you are living on the South and West sides, and you are not lucky enough to get into a magnet or charter school, you are going to be relegated to an underperforming school.” Instead of the word “underperforming,” I wrote “neighborhood.”

After pointing out the error, Lockett was gracious enough to accept my apology and did not seek a formal correction. But the Chicago Teachers Union has used this inaccurate quote to slam Lockett in the debate over charter schools.

Obviously, I regret the error. But even more so, I regret that my mistake has unfairly triggered a fresh round of criticism against New Schools for Chicago, an organization with a critical role to play in improving the Chicago Public Schools.