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Joe Watkins became a Baptist preacher during his junior year at Penn. Then, his ministry took him to other campuses. Eventually, he headed for the White House. And beyond

MAN ON THE MOVE

By Donald Scott

By Donald Scott SPORTING a contagious grin, the Rev. Joseph P. Watkins, 75 C, sat next to President George Bush on Air Force One as the plane zoomed toward Washington from the 1989 National Baptist Convention in New Orleans.

Several hours earlier, Joe Watkins had warmed up an audience of 20,000 at New Orleans's convention center, just before the President delivered the keynote speech about the importance of religious values in American society.

Oratory is but one of Watkins's skills. He also has a way with presidents. George Bush is the second one Watkins has worked for in the past five years. Before going to the White House, Watkins served as a special aide to Dr. Sheldon Hackney, president of the University. In that capacity, he helped the University attract funding for the recruitment and support of minority faculty and students.

While that was a significant position, this day he was sitting on the most famous plane in the skies as a friend and respected aide to the President of the United States—no small accomplishment for a gregarious African-American preacher DONALD SCOTT is business editor and columnist for "The Daily Local News" of Chester County.

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THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE/ MAY, 1992

who, as a kid, got kicks out of bombarding an unsuspecting neighbor with water balloons in the Queens neighborhood where he grew up.

Watkins was very much in the limelight.

For two years, he had represented Bush in the White House's Public Liaison Office and advised him about some of the nation's most sensitive public issues—including race relations, an area in which the Bush Administration did not have very good marks.

In the process, he had conferred with John Sununu, Lee Atwater, and other top Presidential aides.

He often met with an old friend, Vice President J. Danforth Quayle, who had helped Watkins land the White House job.

And he had conferred with the most powerful people in the country, from Supreme Court Justices to the chief execu-

tive officers of huge corporate conglomerates.

He had discussed civil-rights issues with Jesse Jackson, Coretta Scott King, and even Clarence Thomas.

He had also wined and dined with such world leaders as the Prime Minister of Japan and hobnobbed with well-known entertainers, among them, Michael Jackson and Whitney Houston.

But as he soared back to Washington on Air Force One, the seeds of independence were about to sprout in him.

For even next to the pinnacle of power, Joe Watkins craved to be his own man. And within a matter of months, he would move on to start his own business.

His immediate priorities, he says now, are honoring God, being a good father and husband, and just plain being his own boss.

And while he still plans to work for the election of the Bush-Quayle team, Watkins, who became a licensed Baptist minister during his junior year at Penn, nurses political aspirations of his own.

His political and financial goals prompt some obvious questions. Should a follower of a spiritual leader who preached the forsaking of worldly possessions pursue rewards and offices on Earth? Do politics and the word of God mix? And if preachers have a right to pursue political careerswhatever happened to the separation of church and state?

Joe Watkins, who is now 38 years old, has answers to all of those questions.

Joe Watkins quickly gained a reputation as an excellent orator and as someone who had a way with people — a man with a future in the Kepublican Party.

He virtually idolized his 6'7" father, a former New York public-school principal who was not only "a great academician" but also a star basketball player back in 1950 for the City College of New York. So it seemed natural that Joe Watkins should excel both in the classroom and on the basketball court at Middlesex.

Life in Concord was, of course, different from life in Queens. Watkins had to deal with homesickness and with prejudice from some of his white classmates.

But his effervescent personality, intelligence, and leadership abilities helped him overcome both social and educational obstacles with ease. (He's the type of guy who can charm the fur off a grisly bear.) "All in all, everything worked out, and I can say unequivocally that Middlesex was one of the best experiences of my life," he says.

Watkins arrived at Penn from Middlesex in the fall of 1971. He fully intended to become a star varsity basketball player, as his father had been, and then, after graduating, perhaps go on to law school. But he soon learned that life can be full of detours.

For one thing, Penn had a plethora of topnotch players, and Watkins never made the varsity team. Even standing slightly over six feet, Watkins was not one of the larger kids competing to play.

One spring Sunday morning several years earlier, the Rev. Joseph Watkins stood at the pulpit of Mount Carmel Baptist Church in West Philadelphia, swaying slightly to the humming choir and organ prelude as the standing-room-only congregation waited to hear him preach.

Little old ladies in colorful, feathery hats sat singing softly with the choir, as children fidgeted and young mothers turned to give them admonishing looks. They had come to hear the words of the young, 6'2", golden-brown preacher—a lanky man with a wide smile and movie-star looks.

There he stood, an award-winning orator chosen by Ebony magazine as one of the "Fifty Young Leaders of the Future"; the first black president of Perm's Friars Senior Society and cofounder of the Onyx Senior Society; a once-naive Princeton Seminarian who had since had a substantial taste of the political world and had not become disenchanted.

That spring morning in the Mount Carmel pulpit, it wasn't long before Watkins had the congregation mesmerized, periodically waving his long arms to emphasize a point, preaching The Word with grace and even humor. At one point, with a fairly polished sense of timing, he noted that he and his wife, Stephanie Taylor Watkins, 76 CW, had been blessed with "three lovely children," but, at least in that regard, he hoped "the Lord doesn't bless [us] anymore."

Joking aside, Watkins says he loves family life, an ideal passed down by his parents, who also insisted that their children attend church regularly. Watkins and his wife insist that their youngsters, Joey, Jr., 6; Courtney, 14; and Tiffany, 15, do the same. And that they study hard, too.

Watkins was reared by hard-working parents with roots in the Caribbean island of Antigua. He attended grammar school in Queens. The emphasis his parents placed j on education motivated him to try for— An ordained minister, Joe Watkins and win—a scholarship to Middlesex, the venerable prep school in Concord, Mass. served as associate pastor at Mount Carmel

Baptist Church in Philadelphia.

His former Penn roommate, Robert A. Wilson, 75 C, '80 L, remembers how Watkins felt. "That hurt him immensely, because he came from a basketball family " Wilson recalls, "and most of our friends were on the team. He had to deal with that." He did it, adds Wilson, by getting his varsity letters "in the sport that I was in— track. He was talented."

Watkins and Wilson have remained close friends ever since. While at Penn, both ran on the 1974-75 Ivy League championship track team; both were members of Students for Christ; both competed to be the first black president of Perm's Friars Senior Society (Watkins won by a narrow margin); and both debated endlessly with one another about politics, religion, the origins of the universe, and the Bible. Both even wore bow ties while posing for graduation portraits for the 1975 yearbook.

At first, they both wanted to become lawyers. But Watkins changed his mind.

Wilson did enter law school and is now a practicing attorney. He's also a political science instructor at Penn. Like Watkins, he, too, became a licensed minister. And, like Watkins, he also served as an associate pastor at Mount Carmel Baptist Church, one of the most respected AfricanAmerican congregations in Philadelphia.

But while rooming together at Penn, there were times when Wilson couldn't quite decide whether he was witnessing Watkins's compassionate side or his mischievousness. Introducing Watkins to Mount Camel's congregation that spring day, Wilson said: "I remember when I came home once, and I found a street person in our two-bedroom apartment. I said, 'Joe, what are you adding to our living arrangement?' And Joe said, 'Bob, this guy needs some help. He needs a place to sleep. He needs something to eat.'

"That brother stayed with us for three days. But, eventually, the brother left, because I told Joe if he didn't leave, /would," Wilson said.

Reflecting on his campus days and his spiritual metamorphosis, Watkins himself recalls: "Although I had been to church for many years, I realized that my life's actions didn't mirror my professed commitment as a Christian. And so, when I was about 19 years old, I made a sincere commitment that that was the direction in which I wanted my life to go. I was seriously going to be a follower of Christ and reflect it m every aspect of my life-" MAY, 1992 / THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE 35

'My philosophy is classic 'Republican philosophy: If you give a person a fish, they eat today. But if you teach a person to fish, you provide more opportunity.'

He became a licensed minister back in 1974, after delivering a sermon at Community Baptist Church in Bayside, N.Y. (Four years later, he would take another stepbecoming ordained in the same church.)

Though only a junior in college at the time of his licensing, Watkins received the license with the approval of the congregation, after he preached to it about "living the Christian life." Of the sermon, he says now,' 1 felt very comfortable, although it was a little bit long."

"I met my future wife shortly thereafter," he says, adding, "After committing my life to Christ, I'd say that she was my greatest blessing."

Stephanie Watkins, a soft-spoken, tall, beautiful woman, acknowledges the great love and respect she and her husband have for each other. She recalls that they met when "friends of mine introduced me to him. He seemed very intelligent and did everything in a very formal way. He was very jovial and mannerly. He was all of those things, despite the fact that the sexual revolution was at its peak back then.

It was an era of doing your own thing. He was a Christian man and appreciated me for me " While a student at Penn, Watkins honed his oratory skills by serving in several student leadership capacities. According to his former African-American studies instructor, Dr. Robert F. Engs, now an associate professor of history, Watkins had a knack for captivating the class during oral reports.

Although Watkins had no major political interests during his college days, his wife did. "I was very involved in politics," she says, adding, "My father [Frank Taylor] was a Republican official in the Montclair [N.J.] housing department." She says that her family may have had some influence in convincing Watkins to join the Republican Party, an institution notable for its whiteness.

In college, Watkins was most drawn to his spiritual development. After earning his undergraduate degree in history, he entered the Princeton Theological Seminary, where he received a master's degree in Christian education.

He left Princeton and held a variety of clerical positions in higher education. The first was as chaplain for a year at predominantly black Talladega College in Alabama, where, he notes, he met and entertained Martin Luther King, Jr.'s father.

Next, he held a similar position for two

36 THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE/MAY, 1992

years at predominantly white Purdue University in Fort Wayne, Ind. Itching for a taste of "a different kind of ministry," he left Purdue for a more worldly job in 1981, as assistant state director in the Indianapolis office of Dan Quayle, then a fledgling United States Senator in need of a bright, young, idealistic, black Republican. Watkins says he was the only black on Quayle's 25-member staff and served in the "second highest ranking position."

While on Quayle's staff, he quickly gained a reputation among his peers as not only an excellent orator but as someone who had a wonderful way with people a man, in short, with a future in the party. And before long, he developed political aspirations of his own—for a seat in Congress.

Joe Watkins is convinced that his spiritual and political goals do not contradict each other, especially after observing such ministers as former U.S. Representative William H. Gray, III, Presidential candidate Jesse Jackson, and former Atlanta Mayor Andrew Young—all Democrats and all African-American men of the cloth who bridged the gap between theology and politics.

Watkins also contends that blacks and other minorities must reach out for more political and economic power.

It was clear that adding a young dynamic African American to the Republican fold in Congress would be a tremendous asset, especially since' the party's leadership claimed it was trying to improve the Republicans' standing among African Americans.

Furthermore, Watkins felt that American blacks had for too long depended on th Democratic Party and that it was, and is prudent for them to become more involved in the Republican agenda—'to avoid being taken for granted," he says.

Although he does not generally hold traditionally right-wing views, Watkins felt that his talents, experience, and faith made him a worthwhile political operative. And the backing of his friend and boss, Dan Quayle, was especially encouraging.

In spite of Quayle's reputation as a conservative, Watkins says he was impressed with him on several counts. In 1982, says Watkins, Quayle "was the original cosponsor of the Voting Rights Act and sponsored the Job Training Partnership Act. Those were major accomplishments for a freshman U.S. Senator in only his second year of service. The legislation directly impacted upon hundreds of thousands of unemployed people and provided the avenues for them to get the training they needed."

Watkins says his own ideology also deals with the plight of America's unfortunate.

"I announced my candidacy in the Republican primary for a Congressional seat in Indianapolis at a senior-citizens center because of my concern for the needs of the elderly," he notes. At the time, Watkins was 25 years old.

Talking with Vice President Dan Quayle are (from left to right) Watkins's 6-year-old son, Joe, Jr., Joe Watkins, and his daughter, Tiffany, 15.

"I subsequently won the Republican nomination in May of 1984," he adds, though he lost the election.

Although he shuns political labels, some of his ideological stances, then and now, seem consistent with a liberal point of view, if tinged with conservatism: • He says he has "always been and continues to be pro-Affirmative Action."

• Abortion, he maintains, is a decision primarily for a woman to make. ("However, philosophically, I've always believed in the sanctity of life.")

• He believes that Federal programs to aid the poor and elderly should be in creased and job-training incentives should be added.

• He's "not particularly supportive" of prayer in public schools, because of the principle of the separation of church and state. Watkins maintains that his own involvement in politics is a part of his "minis try" and simply a vehicle to help those in need.

• Although he believes in balancing the Federal budget, he says it is the Government's responsibility to "correct ills" that hamper equal opportunity.

And despite Republican opposition to many of those beliefs, Watkins made no secret of them.

But Watkins is evasive when he's pushed on the topic of quotas, and he says that he believes the Rev. Jesse Jackson campaigns too much for Government assistance for the disenfranchised, rather than emphasizing self-help programs. "I think my philosophy is classic Republican philosophy, in terms of capitalism and self-help," Watkins says; "if you give a person a fish, they eat today. But if you teach a person to fish, you provide a greater opportunity."

Yet, many liberals would argue that current Republican strategy takes away Government funds to teach a person to fish.

They point to the massive cuts in funding for many job-training and educational programs during the Reagan-Bush era.

In Indianapolis, while making his Congressional bid, Watkins supported himself and his growing family by working as a commercial accounts representative for Merchants National Bank. Later, he served as vice president and director of missions for the Indiana-based Benjamin Franklin Literary and Medical Society (convincing pharmaceutical firms to contribute medical supplies to Ethiopia during the famine there), and as vice president for Crossroads Christian Communications, a television station for which Watkins raised funds and even delivered sermons on the air.

Meanwhile, 600 miles away in Philadelphia, the trustees of the University of Pennsylvania were initiating a program to

Joe Watkins and his wife, Stephanie Taylor Watkins, held this pose for a story in 'Ebon/ magazine. strengthen the minority presence at Perm.

In the fall of 1985, they voted to commit the University to raising $6 million in five years to attract a greater number of minority students and faculty. (Later, the goal for minority permanence in the Campaign for Penn was set at $35 million, of which $24 million has been raised; there is an additional, post-campaign goal of $40 million for minority permanence.)

Watkins's former professor, Robert Engs, had been in touch with him throughout his years in Indiana, and when the position for the minority enhancement program became available, Engs thought of his onetime pupil. "I followed his career and was impressed," he says, "so I recommended him to the president." Sheldon Hackney was also impressed and hired Watkins.

Watkins's new responsibilities included helping Hackney coordinate Perm's minority-enhancement efforts by working with various University committees, targeting areas of special need, and meeting with faculty and student groups. He also served as chief liaison between the University and the West Philadelphia Partnership, an organization that seeks to enhance the relationships—economic and otherwise— between predominantly black community groups and schools in West Philadelphia and corporate and academic entities in the area, including Penn.

Joe Watkins spent a fruitful two and a half years on thejob. Before leaving Penn, he had helped raise several million dollars and played a part in convincing George A. Weiss, '65 W, a Hartford, Conn., investment banker and benefactor, to finance the higher education of all of the (primarily

African-American) students in a class at the Belmont Junior High School in West Philadelphia who wished to go to college.

The Penn post was rewarding and allowed Watkins to use his administrative, fund-raising, and oratory skills, but he would soon feel the pull of his former ties to then-Senator Quayle.

Little did he, or almost anyone else for that matter, know that Quayle was about to be nominated and then elected Vice President. Or that Watkins would be asked to join Quayle's campaign staff.

Well into the capital campaign to raise funds for minorities at Penn at the time, Watkins was hesitant but contemplated the offer. Perhaps he could take a leave of absence from the Penn job, he thought.

He eventually told his Quayle contacts that he was interested in helping out with the campaign. After all, both Quayle and then-Vice President Bush had endorsed him during his Congressional campaign. And Quayle had helped raise money for the race.

"It was time for me to return the favor," Watkins says.

He took a leave of absence from Penn to advise the team about issues related to African Americans and other minorities.

(He obviously wasn't in on the Willie Horton advertising campaign.)

After the Bush-Quayle team won the November election, Watkins returned to Penn. Then, a week later, he received a phone call from executive aides, asking him to join the administration's transition team.

His specialty, again, was minority issues.

Soon thereafter, he was offered the associate director's position in the Office of the Liaison for the Bush Administration. He took it, becoming one of four or five blacks on a staff of about 300.

"It was one of the most exhilarating and exciting periods of my life," says Watkins about his initial days in the White House.

He says he was in awe walking the corridors of the White House and "conferring in rooms where Abraham Lincoln and other Presidents of the United States had made decisions that affected the destiny of the nation and the world."

Indeed, during the two-year period he spent at the White House, he participated in discussions with Bush and Quayle oh issues that filled newspaper columns around the world.

He was involved in such White House meetings as the November 17, 1989, Black Leadership Forum, attended by, among others, N.A.A.C.P. President Benjamin Hooks and Coretta Scott King, who is active in the Southern Christian Leadership Council.

"The record will show that they had not been invited by the previous administration," says Watkins, referring, in a neutral MAY, 1992 / THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE 37

Singer Whitney Houston answers questions from the White House press corps as Joe Watkins (center) and others look on. tone, to the Reagan Administration's aloofness from the black community.

Issues vehemently discussed during the meeting were whether to invite South African President F. W. de Klerk to the White House and whether the African-American community would be gravely insulted if he were invited, Watkins recalls.

Watkins says that Bush was basically in favor of inviting de Klerk, but he kept an open mind, asking the black leaders to continue discussions and to provide feedback to the White House.

But the question remains as to whether Bush had maintained a stance that seemed to be anti-black, Watkins acknowledges.

He quickly asserts that he believes Bush's decisions to lift economic sanctions and to invite de Klerk to the United States were prudent because South Africa had been moving toward a one-man, one-vote government, a sore point that was then being vigorously questioned by many blacks.

Indeed, some American black leaders, as well as black leaders in South Africa, maintained that apartheid stands until blacks in South Africa are allowed to cast votes for a new constitution and new leaders.

Watkins also recalls the time General Colin Powell, Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, reportedly advised the President to allow economic sanctions to work before confronting Iraq militarily during the Persian Gulf crisis.

After personally meeting with Powell, Watkins says, he is convinced that Powell, the first black soldier to hold the top position in the military, acted in "a manner that was professional" and completely accept38 THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE / MAY, 1992

able to the President. Powell had given his advice, Watkins says; the final say was the President's.

Watkins describes Powell as "very bright and qualified—and very confident. I believe the President's appointment of Colin Powell demonstrates where the President believes our society should be headed," Watkins says: "And the ideal society is one that is colorblind, which does not look at people based on their color or their gender or their religion but looks at them in terms of what they have to offer.

"The President chose Colin Powell to be Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff because he was the best person for the job," Watkins says; "and he also happens to be black. And that's wonderful. And that says something good about our society.

"So as long as you're a member of the President's staff," he muses, "and a member of the President's team—you may not always agree with every decision that's made—it's important for you to support the team leader. And that's what I did."

Not that you don't have a chance to get your own voice heard, adds Watkins: "President Bush would always call for people on the staff who had different perspectives and different points of view. But after those different points of view were presented, then the President would make the decision. And that's what we entrusted him to do as President of the United States.

That's why we elected him, because we trusted his judgment. So I was pleased to support the decisions that he made."

Watkins rubbed elbows with other loyalists in the Administration. He con-

ferred regularly with Lee Atwater, one of the President's closest political advisers who died in 1990 from a brain tumor. Watkins said that he was "very close" to Atwater, not only because of his dedication to Government service but because he eventually strove to "bring more blacks into the ranks of the Republican Party."

Atwater, who was the director of the 1988 Bush-Quayle campaign, had been criticized for being the chief architect of a campaign that most Democrats referred to as racist. They accused him of appealing to the fears of whites through such vehicles as the television commercials that featured Willie Horton, the convicted black felon who committed rape and murder after being released from a Massachusetts prison on a special parole program.

But Watkins insists that, whatever the merits of that charge, Atwater worked relentlessly, before his death, to bring more blacks into the Republican fold.

One black Republican in that fold was Clarence Thomas, a man Watkins has socialized with and admires, despite their presumed differences over abortion, Affirmative Action, and perhaps other issues.

"I believe the President chose the right man for the job," Watkins says, adding that the charges of sexual harassment by law professor Anita Hill were painful to both individuals. "Clarence Thomas, I believe, is the right man for the job and for these times," Watkins repeats, "because he's sensitive and he's a product of the times.

"And I would caution anybody who would jump to conclusions about Clarence; Thomas and what he will do to consider first that he has a broad range of experiences in life. He will draw upon those experiences as well as his outstanding legal background," Watkins says, though not everyone would concur with this latter appraisal. As for the sexual-harassment charge, Watkins insists there was "nothing in Clarence's personality, as far as I could detect, that gave me an indication he was capable of such action."

Watkins says he attended the swearing in of Thomas to the Supreme Court in October. "Knowing Clarence as I do, I really felt for him, given the ordeal that he had to undergo," says Watkins.

There were other painful occasions during his White House days.

Watkins is clearly upset by the late-night TV jokes and negative press coverage Quayle has been subjected to since becoming Vice President. He believes Quayle is the victim of an unwarranted "feeding frenzy." The Vice President is, according to Watkins, "entirely fit and able to rim the country." Recent articles in The Washington Post, which revealed that Quayle vehemently campaigned for the

Vice Presidency, seem to have helped dispel notions that he is aimless. Watkins even saw the rumblings of discord that would lead to the departure of White House Chief of Staff John Sununu.

"Governor Sununu is a fairly bright and intelligent man. And he was a strong chief of staff who took a lot of heat," Watkins says; "he had to make some very unpopular decisions." Watkins adds that Sununu's directness and the feelings from some quarters in the Administration that he was a racist helped lead to his departure. But Watkins says that, on a personal level, he and Sununu "always got along well."

While Watkins was a member of the White House staff, there were special times, such as the day, back in 1989, when he arranged for Bush to meet some of the Belmont School students to whom Perm Trustee GeorgeWeiss and his wife, Diane, had offered college scholarships. They met Bush wearing polo shirts which read "Say Yes to Education." While the President laughed and mingled with the kids, Watkins and Weiss beamed.

Among Watkins's more pleasant recollections were the times he and his family dined with Dan and Marilyn Quayle at Blair HouseAnother pleasant memory is triggered by a White House photo of himself with pop singer Michael Jackson, just before they entered the Rose Garden for a conversation and photo session with the President and Barbara Bush.

"They had a very amiable chat," recalls Watkins; "Mrs. Bush complimented him on his boots, and he said 'I like your dress.'"

Although Jackson was quiet and reserved in the spotlight, Watkins said the

Joe Watkins met Michael Jackson when the pop icon visited the White House to chat with the Bushes.

"In America, true power comes from economic wealth, which can be used to fuel political careers and to help the unfortunate.' singer was talkative when they were alone and was very interested in the history of the White House. In fact, he requested a glimpse of the bedroom of Abraham Lincoln. Members of the staff were happy to comply.

Then, in May of 1990, singer Whitney Houston visited the White House, just after she was designated by Bush to be the chief representative of his "Thousand Points of Light" campaign to encourage volunteerism.

During his contacts with Houston and her father, Watkins built up a trusting relationship. "We had a chance to spend some time together," he says; "she's a very warm and very caring person, very down-toearth. A nice human being."

Last summer, Joe Watkins was walking the streets of Tokyo on a non-Governmental mission. He was on his own. He had left the Bush Administration six months earlier and was now charged with coordinating pre-concert efforts for Whitney Houston's world tour and to scout out willing commercial sponsors. (The concert tour is now under way.)

Watkins had been reluctant to leave the White House, but he felt the timing was right to start his own firm—the business consulting and public relations firm of Kinslor, Incorporated, based in Falls Church, Va. The name was derived from the final syllables of his last name, Wat(kins), and his wife's maiden name, Tay(lor), he says. (His wife now works as a program analyst for the United States Department of Education.)

As a White House aide, Joe Watkins received numerous job offers from private industry. Some of the largest companies in America courted him, he says, though he declined to be specific.

Although he thoroughly enjoyed his White House work, he had three children to educate and ached for financial independence. And some of the lucrative job offers were quite tempting. For, though there was plenty of prestige associated with the White House, Watkins says Presidential aides don't make exceptional salaries (he says his was about $50,000 annually), and, since they are not part of the Civil Service, have no job security.

He thought briefly about joining one of the large corporations which wooed him, but he realized that he probably could earn as much, or more, by starting his own firm.

After all, Whitney Houston had already expressed interest in retaining him as a business consultant.

"I thought about it," he says, "Wouldn't it be even nicer, though, if I worked for myself and had equity in my own company?

I started thinking in the fall of 1990 about that possibility. When corporations would make offers to me, I would say to them, maybe we can still work together. Maybe I could consult for you."

Furthermore, he started thinking about conversations he had had with his father as a teen-ager and young adult. They often talked about the need for members of minorities to become economically viable.

"In America, true power comes from economic wealth, which can be used to fuel political careers and to help the unfortunate," says Watkins.

"I think it's important for African Americans to begin to create wealth," he adds: "And being economically viable does not just mean receiving a big paycheck but being in control of your destiny."

His departure from the White House in May of 1991 took his colleagues there by surprise.

For sure, the move entailed a considerable amount of financial risk, considering the high failure rate of business start-ups.

But whatever the risk of entrepreneurship, Watkins says now, it was well worth taking. For within several months of starting Kinslor, he claims to have tripled his annual salary as a White House aid.

Last fall, the entire Watkins family flew to Europe for a vacation—and also to catch Whitney Houston's concert in London, which attracted a sell-out crowd.

Today, Watkins has several clients. One is George Weiss, who has retained him to set up college-scholarship programs at other schools similar to the one he and his wife sponsored at Belmont Junior High School. Watkins also helps Weiss monitor the academic progress of the students. And in addition to Houston, his client base has grown to include public relations for the Miami-based Betancort Company, which produces textiles and medical products.

Ever on the move, Joe Watkins has been catching jets to and from Tokyo, California, and Miami of late. These days, he usually flies by himself. He's no longer on Air Force One sitting next to the President, with a team of photographers and White House aides around. Heaven only knows where he'll wind up.

END MAY, 1992 / THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE 39