Al Harvin, the only black reporter in the Times sports department at the time, decided to implement his own awards. The C.O.O.N. Awards, chosen by Mr. Harvin were given to black staff members for dispatches on the black community. The awards consisted of a dollar bill folded in the shape of a ring, which could easily be slipped on one's ring finger; a toy raccoon; and an ink pen engraved with THE SISTER AND BROTHERHOOD OF SLEEPING-CAR REPORTERS.

Although our monetary compensation of $1 was $499 less than the average Publisher's Award, we accepted our C.O.O.N. awards with zeal - congratulations were accompanied by squealing, high fives, kisses all around. Soon word spread through the newsroom that there were awards being given out only to black staffers. A few of our white colleagues asked about the rumor, but we didn't let on.

One day a white reporter was sitting next to a black female reporter when Mr. Harvin arrived at her desk and handed her a C.O.O.N. The reporter shouted to the blacks within earshot, "You guys, I got a C.O.O.N"

By now the white reporter's curiosity had gotten the better of him. he demanded to know more about these so-called C.O.O.N. Awards. Who, for example, decided which stories or photographs in the paper deserved a C.O.O.N. Award, and why were they only given to blacks?

The black reporter told him the history, much the way I've presented it here, then she asked him, "Do you know what C.O.O.N. stands for? Committee of One Nigger."

When Mr. Harvin retired, in 1994, I told that story at his retirement toast. We all - blacks and whites - shared in the champagne and the laughter. At the time, though, it wasn't so funny.

Back then we felt slighted. Sure we cherished our C.O.O.N. Awards. I still keep one of Mr. Harvin's toy raccoons and ink pens on my desk at the office. But we also wanted to have our work recognized by the Times top editors and publisher. Because the system was setup in favor of the foreign and national beats and we blacks had yet to break the glass ceiling that separated us from those beats, our work, no matter now good, was being ignored. So we come up with a creative way to soothe our souls and what happens? Our white colleagues want a piece of that, too!

"Don't want a nigger to have nothin'."