There was a day in the middle 1950s when Spencer Ambler betrayed his instinct and agreed to join his friends at the Silver Grill Restaurant in Chanute. All the kids said, Lets go to the Silver Grill, remembered Ambler. I said, No, I dont want to go. But his friends persisted: Youre with us, itll be fine. And so he went.
Ambler was a good student, quiet, a top athlete, the vice president of his class, and the only African-American male in his grade. He knew, on a cellular level, what his white friends couldnt have been expected to know. And when they walked through the front door of the restaurant, the teenagers were met by an employee of the Silver Grill, who gave voice to a warning that Ambler had heard echoing in this thoughts long before he ever set foot on cafe property. Well serve these guys, the man said, but we wont serve him.
You dont say anything when youre that age, remembered Ambler, you just leave.
MORE THAN 60 years later, Spencer Ambler still in possession of his same broad shoulders and slim, athletic build stood in front of a crowd of admirers in the new student center at Allen Community College. Among the crowd were a number of those same classmates from Chanute High, friends from the Silver Grill days, whod traveled more than 20 miles and across six decades to see their old ally honored. Amblers family was there, too: Helen, his wife of 52 years. His brother-in-law, Bill. His youngest sister. A nephew. Two nieces, one whod flown in from Denver just that morning.
ACC board chairman Ken McGuffin took to the podium and began to list Spencers many accomplishments. Husband. Father. Army staff sergeant. Spencer Ambler has dedicated his life to service above self… Postmaster one of the few African-Americans in the state to hold that position. Church deacon. The list went on and on. Vice president of the area NAACP. Great-grandfather. And he has served as a devoted board of trustee member at Allen Community College for 31 years. When he finishes this term, it will be 32 years. And it is a distinct honor that the board of trustees unanimously voted to…
And with that Allen Community College dedicated to its longest-serving trustee the Spencer Ambler Board Room, a glass-encircled, jewel box of a room, whose edifice will likely outlast the majority of the people in the crowd that day and whose name will be synonymous with Spencer Ambler for as long as the campus continues to attract students.
As for the Silver Grill? It folded in 1968.
IF THERES a friendlier man in Iola than Spencer Ambler, or a more charismatic couple than Spencer and Helen, or a family more deserving of biographical attention for the substance of their character and for their years of service to this community its unclear who that would be.
The Road from Nowata
The Amblers arrived in Chanute from Nowata, Okla., in 1938. Spencer was born the following year. His father worked as a laborer at the Ash Grove Cement Company, except during the war when he joined the countless other men from southeast Kansas who poured into the ammunition plant in Parsons. Spencers mother was a stay-at-home mom, who oversaw her own arsenal of seven children.
But it wasnt just the Silver Grill. African-Americans during these years were prevented from dining in a number of area restaurants. The swimming pool was segregated. The movie theater on Main Street. Various clothing boutiques. And yet Spencer never seemed to let it rattle his even keel, and, in his entire life, hes never held a grudge. It may have helped that he was popular, that he had a solid group of friends, and that he was a star athlete from the jump.
Saturday basketball
Earlier this week, bent over her kitchen table, Helen, a natural archivist, resurrected from a pile of papers a news clipping from the time Spencer was in the eighth grade. This young man, wrote the reporter, is busy shattering all the school records: he broad-jumped 20 6, high-jumped 5 9.5, he ran the 100-yard dash in 10.7 seconds.
And Spencer only improved in high school. He was a standout in football, in basketball, in track. His older brothers were great athletes, too. But, in this respect, Spencer was the lucky one. The rules changed only very shortly before Spencer entered CHS. The only thing blacks could do up to that point, said Ambler, was run track. They couldnt play football or basketball no contact sports. But, you see, every town in southeastern Kansas used to have a black basketball team. And so the older Ambler boys wore the colors of the Chanute Tigers.
They were allowed to play in the gyms, said Helen, who grew up in Iola and remembers cheering on her own hometown Green Dragons. But they could only have the gyms on Saturdays. Which, hey, we thought was the best time anyway.
By Spencers senior year, hed earned a football scholarship but his chance at college athletics was torpedoed when he injured his knee late in the season. And so he did what so many of his generation did: he joined the United States Army, and in 1958 he said goodbye to Chanute.
Black, White, and Green
Alternating between stations in the U.S. and Korea, Spencer flourished in the military. He made a host of new friends. But this was the late-50s and early-60s; the Civil Rights movement hadnt yet come into full flower; and it was here, in the service, that Spencer would have his eyes opened to the real hostility that boils at the heart of race prejudice. I was stationed with black guys from the south and white guys from the south, recalled Spencer, and it was amazing the dislike they had for each other, and yet they didnt even know one another. They just couldnt stand to be in the same room. For me, coming from Chanute, where I had so many good white friends, I simply couldnt understand that.
A Case Study in the Intrinsic Stupidity of Racism; or, the perils of driving while racist
My brother, now he was about your complexion sandy hair, green eyes, real light skin. When he had his hat on, you almost couldnt tell he was black. Well, we were [stationed] up in Fort Riley and my car broke down and he said Lets go home. I said, Nah, Im not going to go home. He said, Lets go home. I said, How are we going to get home? He said, Lets hitchhike. I said, Youve got to be kidding me. Well, we ended up hitchhiking.