I started out as a child in 1965, the year that Bill Cosby first burst through the screens on “I Spy.” By the time I was about eight or nine years old, I had his comedy albums “I Started Out as a Child” and “Bill Cosby is a Very Funny Fellow … Right” memorized. I’m not certain, but I believe that I DID discover “I Spy” before I did “The Cosby Show,” but I rapidly became a fan of both. Undoubtedly, I first saw Bill on TV in “The Electric Company” and “Fat Albert and the Cosby Kids.” I loved his humor and his natural way of working with children. He seemed to me to have the heart of an educator.
Thinking back now on his early comedy material, including “Child,” I can now see the pain through some of the humor, particularly when it comes to his father. While Bill toned down the idea of abuse, towards himself, his brother and his mom, it was undeniably there, particularly in a routine called “The Giant.” Listening to this track now, there’s a subtext of a man who treats women as objects, manipulating, threatening, and ultimately overpowering them. This subtext may well have been largely responsible for creating the monster that the real Bill Cosby has turned out to be.
When I first heard of the sexual abuse allegations, I didn’t believe them. Even as more and more women came forward, I remained skeptical. Come on! This was America’s dad! This was Alexander Scott, who fought for democracy and the red, white and blue! This was Fat Albert’s buddy! But as the numbers continued to cascade, and Cos went to trial, and was finally convicted of three counts, the disturbing picture became all too clear.
There is no doubt that the main victims here are the women that he raped and abused. But we’ve all been damaged by what this man did, because of the legacy he destroyed. His was among the first portrayals, in “I Spy,” of a black man working alongside a white one (the brilliant Robert Culp) as an equal partner, NOT as a Sambo sidekick. In that role, he became the first black man to win an Emmy, not once, but for all three years that “I Spy” aired on NBC.
His ultimate achievement may well have been “The Cosby Show,” which arguably saved a dying network and possibly the sitcom genre itself with its frank, honest and human look at the dynamics of a family. And a black family that was decidedly white-collar … a doctor and a lawyer, living with wealth, and showing that this wealthy family had the same disputes, and tribulations as we did. It extolled all of the values that we hold dear, many of them which we find under unrelenting assault today.
After “The Cosby Show” left the airwaves, a couple of forgettable series followed, and Cosby began contributing in another powerful way – as a critic of deadbeat dads, particularly African Americans. He dared his brothers to defy the stereotypes and raise themselves up to be men. He became a best-selling author, writing about fatherhood and the importance of two-family homes.
And now we discover that he is a hypocrite of epic proportions. It was all a façade. Bill Cosby was, perhaps like his father, a predator, uncaring about the very values that he preached to us for the better part of four decades in show business.
What he has stolen from these women is incalculable. What he has stolen from us as a nation … or as a world … is less compelling, but quite substantial. I can’t think of any personal hero, shared by the planet, who has fallen so far from such a lofty perch. What are we to think about the man we thought that we knew as a father, a brother, and as a teacher. I gaze on my video shelves at my collection of “I Spy” DVDs and wonder if I will ever again be able to revel in the adventures of Kelly and Scott as I once did, without being scarred by what Cosby was, possibly even during the filming of that classic series.
If there’s anything that we can take away from this horrific downfall, perhaps it is in the knowledge of what truth really is. Perhaps Bill Cosby serves to remind us that none of us are completely what we seem to be. Faith can never be completely placed in any mortal being, because we spring from a fallen world. We are disappointed by our Presidents, our mayors, our governors, our teachers, all the way down to the bagging clerks at our grocery stores. We disappoint those that we encounter on a daily basis, probably without knowing it.
But I believe that it’s important that, while Mr. Cosby is not the man that we thought that he was, the inadequacy of the messenger should not dilute the importance of the message. It is possible to learn from a fallen soul, because wisdom that he lacked in certain areas does not negate the wisdom that flowed from others. Even though Bill Cosby used that wisdom to cloak his addiction, there is still much to be learned from Fat Albert, Cliff Huxtable and Alexander Scott. I fervently hope that the day will come when I can visit them again. But I fear that day won’t be anytime soon.
