A Monument to America
Another Side of Ben Ali
2009-10-14
By Del Walters

On Saturday, just before sundown, a simple man was laid to rest. Those who attended his funeral were cab drivers, vendors and titans of industry.  One of the speakers marveled at how the carpet in the center was quietly paid for by the man who lie covered in a plain white sheet, in an even plainer wooden casket. There were prayers, and acknowledgements, but other than that, little in the way to signify the importance of the man who was being buried. There were no celebrities, or anyone whose name has become synonymous with his life.  To my knowledge, there was only one television camera, and the truck was parked inconspicuously across the street.  All of this happened in a city that talked endlessly of his death, because few of those doing the talking new anything about the man.  His name was Ben.

That is what makes this story so simple, that it can only be American.  Ben Ali, famous as the founder of Ben’s Chili Bowl, was a Muslim. His family is Muslim. His wife, Virginia, converted. That Saturday, his body was wrapped in a simple burial shroud, in keeping with his faith, and buried before sundown.  As I sat with the family, it seemed so ironic, that in a city so deeply divided over the last years between white and black, Christian and Muslim, this former immigrant from Trinidad brought us all together.  That may have been more miraculous than the half smokes for which he was famous, that ironically, he never could eat.  They were pork.

Recently, while working on a retrospective of Ben’s life, I came to realize that Ben’s is more of a monument to America than any built for Washington, Jefferson or Lincoln.  Ben is not only an American monument, but a monument to African Americans everywhere. His story is the story of our struggle.

58 years ago, when the Chili Bowl opened its doors, it was just Ben, Virginia and his dream of making it big. Like most African Americans who achieved any degree of success, fate played a major role. When Washington burned Ben’s was spared.  Stokely Carmichael, the famous sixties radical, and Ben both hailed from Trinidad.  There was that common bond between them that transcended the anger of the times and so a deal was struck.  Ben’s would survive if he agreed to feed the members of SNCC, or the Student Non Violent Coordinating Committee. Other establishments around him, many of them white owned, burned, never to be seen again.

In addition, during those turbulent years, blacks and whites couldn’t sit at the same lunch counters. Remember Greensboro?  Remember Rosa Parks?  Remember Birmingham?  America was racially deeply divided and the front lines of the civil rights movement became our restaurants, theaters and lunch counters. Today, thousands flock to Ben’s to see someone famous or to be seen. They are Asian, Hispanic, black, white, rich and poor.  They come because they have heard of the half-smokes, and celebrities like Bill Cosby and Bono who stop in from time to time to dine, but they forget that it was not so long ago that such a visit would have been impossible. Strom Thurmond, the infamous southern Dixiecrat ate there.  Strom Thurmond!

Ben’s is also a monument to change in another important way.  In urban areas where gentrification, or whites moving in, and black moving out, has become the norm, Ben’s stands as a symbol of an African America that once was. U Street, where the restaurant is located, was the black Mecca.  Stars like Duke Ellington, Ella Fitzgerald, Lena Horne and countless others played in black clubs, because they were banned from white establishments. Ben’s was the last stop on the entertainment train for many of them before they headed home. 

What discrimination didn’t kill, progress did. Mass Transit, or Metro, destroyed what remained of U Street and crack and gun violence finished off the fledgling few who struggled to remain. Blacks fed up with living under the threat of death moved out, and whites moved in.  Today, whites fill the restaurants and social scene, and can be seen riding their bikes on streets that were once littered with junkies’ needles. Through it all Ben’s stood. 

Black America has changed too. When Ben’s opened his doors we were Negroes, and then colored, then black, and now African American. We are the leaders of the democrats and the republicans. We are liberal and conservative.  More recently, during the Bush years, we have been divided along lines of faith, Christian versus Muslim.

Which is why I found it so curious that a city that celebrated a man’s life and then his death, so easily overlooked his most obvious accomplishments. Ben Ali was more than a restaurateur. . He was a good man, a great man of faith, and a faithful father.  He was a devout Muslim, who read from the Koran daily. He prayed for safe travel each and every time he entered a car and yet despite his deep held religious beliefs, he never burdened anyone with his faith...unless asked first. He was a family man with one wife, three sons and a work ethic that took him from the slums of Trinidad and made him a household name worldwide. 

Those are the reasons why we should celebrate the life of Ben Ali.  For you see, Ben Ali was much more than a chili dog.  He was as American as apple pie, or should I say, a half smoke. Now you know the content of his character.

Eric Easter writes about politics, technology and culture for EbonyJet.com