William Wingate, a man who looked nothing like Sonny Liston, and when still alive, claimed to be the son of a champion without a Birth Certificate.

It would be easy to prove these days, someone’s birthright. With DNA, Birth Certificate, etc. But Bill Wingate just appeared out of thin air. A creation of Paul Gallender, author of the book SONNY LISTON: THE REAL STORIES BEHIND THE ALI/ LISTON FIGHTS. Mr. Gallender called my grandmother Geraldine Liston while she was still alive. To ask her about one of Sonny’s kids that he had out of wedlock. Geraldine hung up on Mr. Gallender refusing to continue talking to him. Many authors who have written about Sonny, have a strange fascination with Sonny’s penis. That includes authors Shaun Assael, Nick Tosches and many more. And write about it in length. And Paul’s book is no different. Geraldine Liston would not talk to Mr. Gallender about Sonny’s so-called children out of wedlock. Mr. Gallender also brings up Geraldine and Sonny’s son Bobby in his book. Who he claimed as a dependent on Sonny’s and Geraldine’s tax returns. Bobby was my father, that Mr. Gallender has mixed up with Danielle Weiss from Sweden. It is very easy to sexualize black men in America. Because of the racist propaganda brought about by 400 years of slavery, and racist propaganda.

“The national terror of black sexuality is a central pillar of the American blockbuster. In 1915, D.W. Griffith’s “The Birth of a Nation” envisioned a post-Civil War country run by feckless white abolitionists, nearly ruined by haughty blacks and then saved by the Ku Klux Klan — a mob whose energies are largely focused on rescuing a white woman from a half-black, half-white lieutenant governor’s attempt to force her into marriage. That’s just the plot; Griffith’s genius was at its most flagrant in the feverish surrounding details. The country isn’t even done being rebuilt in “The Birth of a Nation,” and here comes the K.K.K., already determined to make America great again. The movie crackles with sensationalist moral profanity. Many of the black characters, for starters, are played by white actors, all having a grand time making randy savages out of their roles. This was American cinema’s first feature-length masterpiece. A full century later, it has lost none of its hypnotic toxicity. Even now, to see this movie is to consider cheering for the Klan, to surmise that every black man is a lusty darkie unworthy of elected office, his libido, his life. Its biases are explicit and electric. Griffith established a permanent template with this movie, not just for filmed action but for American popular and political culture — a fantasia of white supremacy, black inhumanity and the tremendous racial anger that’s still with us today.”

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