Waving the Banner’s flag
One day in 1965, a young lawyer named Melvin Miller paid a visit to offices of the Boston Guardian, a neighborhood paper serving the black community.
He was there to see Dr. Charles Steward, the 95-year-old patriarch of the city’s black press. For decades, Steward had been publisher of the paper started in 1901 by his brother-in-law, the legendary William Monroe Trotter.
By then, the Guardian was publishing irregularly, if at all. Miller was there to announce his new venture, the Bay State Banner, a would-be successor to the Guardian.
Steward was gracious, Miller recalled this week. “He put his hand on my shoulder and he said, ‘You know, Monroe and I really thought with our Harvard educations we would come in here and really make a big change. Here I am 95, and I guess my life has been wasted. But you came, so you can carry forward the work.’ ’’
Miller did exactly that. And now, at 75, he too is saying it’s time to move on, announcing this week that he is suspending publication of the Banner after 44 years.
That also means the end of the publishing career of a true original. Believe me when I say they don’t make ’em like Mel Miller anymore. A tall, thin, patrician man in a perfectly knotted tie and pocket square, he epitomizes a black bourgeoisie that barely exists now. He has lived on Harold Street in Roxbury for 72 years. He proudly traces his Boston roots to the 18th century.
The Banner was a child of the crises that accompanied urban renewal in the 1960s.
“In 1965, Roxbury had the most expansive urban renewal project in the country,’’ Miller said. “I can tell you that it’s rather startling to see the geography of your home space being totally reorganized and restructured. If you ever needed a paper, it was during the period of massive reorganization.’’
In fact, Miller was an assistant US attorney by day, and a newspaper publisher at night. In time, his avocation became a career.
Miller began to face his professional mortality about a year ago. “I noticed that in the obituaries the names of too many of my friends and associates began to appear. I thought I needed to begin to make some plans, because I haven’t gotten any message from on high that I’m immortal.’’
It was the lousy economy though, that has forced his hand. The time around July Fourth is traditionally slow, and this year was no exception. “I had to write a check to pay for some deficit, and I said, ‘You know, I’ve done that for the last time.’ ’’ So he decided to shut it down.
The Banner’s closing removes a thorn from the side of many of the city’s power brokers, including Mayor Thomas M. Menino. Many observers believe the paper was prepared to endorse either Michael Flaherty or Sam Yoon for mayor, which Miller indirectly confirms: “I think that either Flaherty or Yoon would be preferable to the mayor at this point.’’
I feel obliged to note that Miller and I have not always been on the same page.
About a month after I started at the Globe, I wrote a piece on the Nation of Islam that annoyed its leader, Minister Don Muhammad. He responded with an “Open Letter to The Boston Globe and its Readers’’ - published in the Banner - in which he referred to my editor and me as “a couple of silly Negroes shuffling up to the bossman’s big desk.’’ Suffice it to say, this could not have appeared without Miller’s cooperation, and I was outraged.
It was a long time ago, and when I asked Miller about it Wednesday, we both laughed. “I’m sorry you took offense,’’ he said. “I don’t even remember it.’’ Of course he doesn’t: It was just one well-placed barb among countless thousands.
Miller appears to live by a code that rigorously excludes self-pity. His lack of sentiment was striking. He has no plans, and no regrets.
“I did the best I could with what I had to work with,’’ he said. “And that’s that.’’
Adrian Walker is a Globe columnist. He can be reached at walker@globe.com. ![]()



