The world is celebrating the Former President of South Africa.
Interviewing Mandela more than 20 years ago, during his historic trip to New York remains the crowning moment of my career. 
In my book, “No Momma’s Boy,” I write about that encounter with Mandela, and what he taught me about life. Never to have a defeatist attitude, conquer your fears, and what believing in yourself can do.
Below is an excerpt from the book, about that faithful encounter with Nelson Mandela. It starts with being a member of the Press Corps covering the 1988 Presidential Campaign of the Rev. Jesse Jackson, and traveling with Jackson to the Persian Gulf to visit American Trips for Christmas.
On that trip, our group stopped in countries like Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, and Kuwait. I was spellbound. Here I was, a poor kid from the Bronx, in a completely different world. I had made quite a name for myself. When other reporters asked “Why?” I asked “Why not?”
Jackson lost the democratic nomination, but the true highlight of my radio career was the visit of Nelson Mandela, who was the symbol of the struggle against apartheid in South Africa. Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela was born in July 1918, and joined the African National Congress in 1942. After two decades of fighting for the end of the racist apartheid system, he was given a life sentence and sent to a notorious maximum security prison near Cape Town. After twenty-seven years behind bars, Mandela continued his work and headed to the United States for a twelve-day, eight-city tour. His first stop was New York City. This visit was a triple-crown story because it had local, national, and international appeal. New Yorkers prepared to treat Mandela as an adopted son, and the newly crowned Dinkins administration gave him first-class treatment. Mandela was given a parade along the Canyon of heroes up lower Broadway in Manhattan. Major rallies for Mandela were planned in Harlem and Yankee Stadium.
The security was provided by more than twelve thousand officers along with helicopters, boats along the banks of the East River, insulated bomb trucks, and sharpshooters. There was a “Mandela-mobile,” similar to the pope mobile, complete with a flatbed truck and bulletproof glass. Mandela’s security was far more involved than that provided for Jesse Jackson’s detail.
Mandela was a big interview for any journalist. Every network wanted him and did their best to get him. I wanted to get an exclusive interview with Mandela, but I knew it would be hard to obtain permission. I began to doubt my ability to get the interview and allowed a defeatist attitude to stop me before I even tried. Fortunately, I quickly conquered my fears. If I had ever stayed in the defeatist frame of mind, I certainly would not have succeeded in the radio news business.
With Mandela’s visit still about two weeks away, I needed the right person to help me schedule an interview. Every city government administration has a go-to person who has the mayor’s ear. The go-to guy for Dinkins was Deputy Mayor Bill Lynch, Dinkins’ former campaign manager, who accomplished the enormous feat of getting the first black mayor elected in New York. I pleaded with Bill Lynch to give me an exclusive interview with Mandela. He laughed at me.
“Every reporter and their mother wants that interview,” Lynch said. “Besides, Dominic, Mandela’s staff will have a say in who he wants to talk with. I can’t make any promises to you or anyone.”
I couldn’t take no for an answer. I had to find a way. Mandela was widely viewed as the only surviving member of the Big Three in the black community, the others being Martin Luther King and Malcolm X. When Mandela spoke at rallies, he invoked the memories of those two men. I called anyone who I thought could help me land this interview. On the surface, it probably seemed laughable that a small-time radio reporter with a predominantly black audience even dreamed of interviewing the most sought-after black man in the world. The idea was laughable to everyone but me. Again, I asked, “Why not me?” I never looked down on myself, and I had very healthy self-esteem, for which my colleagues respected me. The Dinkins administration respected me, apparently, because after weeks of hearing my pleas, they granted my request for an interview.
The only reporter who interviewed Mandela ahead of me was ABC’s Ted Koppel. But I still beat Koppel to the punch because my interview aired first, while his aired later in the evening on a special edition of Nightline. I beat all the broadcast and cable networks, even the international media, because I believed in myself and put in a lot of hard work to get this international figure in an interview.
My preparations for the talk with Mandela were exhaustive. I asked my engineering team from the radio station to meet me at the mayor’s official residence, Gracie Mansion, which overlooks the East River. Everyone at WLIB and WBLS were depending on me. If anything went wrong, I would be the one held responsible.
After passing through a metal detector and walking past bomb-sniffing dogs, my team and I set up our equipment in a side room of Gracie Mansion. I didn’t hear from Dinkins or Lynch, but I knew about when Mandela was to arrive because armed security stood outside the door. After days of near panic, I told myself to focus. I reminded myself that Nelson Mandela was just another human being. But who was I kidding, this figure was an international icon.
Suddenly the doorknob turned and in walked a six-foot-tall, caramel-skinned man with a cherubic face. Mandela had opened the door and let himself in, just like that. I introduced myself and told him how honored I was to meet him. He was very gracious, calm, and soft-spoken. He sat down in a chair that I had set up for him. As I seated myself, I could hardly believe I was sitting across from the man who had almost single-handedly brought down the system of apartheid. Yet Mandela called me “Mister Carter.”
A few months before, the entire world had watched as this man had been released from years in a maximum security prison, and now he was sitting in front of me. Unlike my colleagues who were vying for the same interview, I did not have the privilege of a private school education, nor had I come from a wealthy family, but I had one thing that pushed me to the front of the line: determination. From the outset, the interview with Mandela was a seemingly impossible feat to accomplish. I was successful because I remained persistent. I even made a series of phone calls to anyone who could help me get this interview.
I had a few minutes to spare before the interview officially began, so I made small talk. “Mr. Mandela,” I said, “you have just finished twenty-seven years in prison, yet you don’t seem to be angry.”
Mandela smiled. “I could not be angry, young man, or it would have been giving in to those who jailed me,” he said. “My anger would have destroyed me.”
I was awed by his quiet confidence, which truly humbled me. During the interview, which was an enormous success, Mandela and I were live on the radio with WLIB host Gary Byrd for about fifteen minutes. Afterward, he posed for pictures with all of us, including me and the engineers from the radio station.
It was obvious during my radio days that I would have an even brighter future, one that I hoped would be in television.
From my book: “No Momma’s Boy.” How I let go of
my past and embraced the Future.
You can order the book at: www.nomommasboy.com