Sammy Davis Jr(36)

I thought about how my father used his talent mixed with kindness to fight prejudice.




My father loved comic and dramatic acting and did so from the ’50s on. In the early days, Pop continued to entertain at the country’s hottest nightclubs, while taping dramatic roles in two television anthology series, General Electric Theater and Zane Grey Theatre.

In November 1958, Pop played the role of escaped convict Glenn Griffin in the staged play The Desperate Hours. The same year my father was in two feature films: Anna Lucasta with Eartha Kitt and Samuel Goldwyn’s big-budget production of Porgy and Bess, starring Sidney Poitier and Dorothy Dandridge.

On September 9, 1967, a one-time special of Laugh-In aired. Pop was comical, dressed in a white wig and black robe, playing a judge. He entered the courtroom saying, “Here comes the judge! Here comes the judge! Order in the court room! Here comes the judge!” My mother got such a kick out of the Laugh-In show, she had T-shirts custom-made for me and my brothers to wear on a trip to London with HERE COMES THE JUDGE! printed on the front.

The nurse came out to check on my father and give him his medicine. He woke as she fumbled around with his IV. She asked him how he was feeling and he shrugged.

“You’re still here, Trace Face,” Pop said.

“Still here, Pop. How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Okay, till that darn nurse woke me up!” he replied.

“So, Pop, tell me, when are you getting rid of that gun collection upstairs? I got a baby on the way here!”

Dad was a sharpshooter and fancy gun spinner. He treasured his gun collection. Pop made appearances in western films and was a guest star in several westerns. He even showed James Dean a few tricks, but always felt guilty after his untimely death that he had ignored him as the weird, quiet kid in the corner at so many of his own private parties.

“Let’s not get carried away now. Heck, I won fast-draw competitions. Johnny Cash said I was capable of drawing and firing a Colt Single Action Army revolver in a quarter of a second! My guns are here to stay! Let’s change the subject, what else is on your mind?”

“The divorce . . . ,” I said.

“From your mom? Such happy thoughts you have on your mind today, Trace Face!” Pop replied.

“I heard Mom’s side, but only parts of yours.” I looked him straight in the eye, and he knew I was serious.

“Oh God! Haven’t we been through that?” Pop shrugged.

“Well?” I asked.

“I just couldn’t be what she wanted me to be, Trace Face.”

“What was that?”

“A family man. My performance schedule was rigorous. I was moving at a breakneck pace. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. I had perhaps an unhealthy commitment to show business—for me, there was always another mountain to climb, another movie to do, another place to play. I gotta be the biggest, I gotta be a star, a megastar—in the meantime, your mother and you kids were suffering.”



Even when he was “off” at parties, Pop loved to entertain.



Laughing it up with photographer Milton Greene and Marilyn Monroe.


“You missed a lot of our childhood, Pop,” I said.

“And every time I would get a guilt feeling, I’d play ‘Father Knows Best’ for two weeks out of a year. What kind of life was that? Finally, your mom, who went through so much pain because of me, who I am delighted to have remained dear friends with, told me, ‘I can’t take this anymore and I never want to get to the point that I hate you. You are a good person just pointed in another direction,’” Pop explained.

“She understood,” I said.

“Your mother did a remarkable job raising you kids; you are super kids. I am thrilled to finally have a relationship with each of you, based on honesty. But back in the day, I was like a mouse caught in a habit trail; I couldn’t get off the treadmill. The wheel just kept spinning. Naturally, everything was taken care of for your mother financially. That was my saving grace—I provided for my family,” Pop said.





At the Mayfair Hotel in London, 1966, Dad reads a newspaper that claimed his marriage to my mother was headed for a divorce. He tossed it in the air to show what he thought of that!


“And your mother let me see you whenever I wanted. But it was when I was in town, which wasn’t that often. I was working forty weeks a year because that was my need, to work. See, I always needed to work. It was ingrained in me from the day I started show business at three years old. Work, work, work. Not to mention that I was spending more than I was making. Really, I was a fool, in my book. But that was me. I realized it too late.”