"We were always fed, always had gifts under the tree at Christmas," says Thurl. "She was a great mom. She was always home. That's why she worked graveyard."

Thurl was a straight-laced athlete-musician-scholar who was bused to a white high school as part of the federally mandated busing program. He had no trouble fitting into a white world. He was affable, articulate, soft-spoken and smart. As his high school coach, Ernie Welch, recalls, Bailey crossed all lines, racially and socially. "He had no groups," said Welch. "He was all groups."

Then, as now, Bailey filled his calendar with activities. He became the school's first black student body president. He also became captain of the basketball team, an all-Metro D.C. basketball player, a member of the National Honor Society, winner of the highest academic award in the county and homecoming king. He sang in two choirs, played three instruments in the marching band, won the faculty award for overall excellence and was a member of the Drama Club, the yearbook staff, the school newspaper staff, the flag-raising club, the cafeteria club and the broadcasting club, and won the school's top awards for journalism and broadcasting. At Boys State he was voted governor by his peers. Later, at North Carolina State, he performed in school theater productions

He was always so busy with activities that he never had time for sports. He didn't try out for the basketball team until the seventh grade, and then he was cut during tryouts. He was cut again in eighth grade. Of course, he went on to become an All-American, helping NC State win the national championship and later becoming the Jazz's fifth-leading scorer of all time.

Most people don't know that Bailey was actually the captain of the Jazz for years, not his more famous teammates. During his nine years with the Jazz, the organization learned that Bailey was the one they could depend on. "When we asked the players if someone would volunteer for community work or a school appearance, Thurl always had his hand up," recalls Layden. Similarly, Jazz vice president David Allred recalls a time when a Jazz player called to say he wouldn't fulfill a speaking obligation 15 minutes before he was due to speak to 2,000 school kids waiting in a gymnasium.

Says Allred, "I called Thurl, and he said, 'I'll be there in 10 minutes.' He was our go-to guy."

In short, Bailey was a man anyone's parents would arrange for their daughter to meet — if not for the color of his skin.

Predictably, when word reached the Southwicks that Sindi was dating Bailey, nobody was happy about it. He was a different race, a different faith. When Sindi finally told the family the news in person, "they all lashed out at me. It was at a time when Magic (Johnson) revealed he had AIDS, and I think they thought all NBA players were like that."