The Missing Portrait of Mr. Ramus Rhodes

By: Donald V. Watkins

©Copyrighted and Published on March 4, 2026

Mr. Ramus Rhodes, 1973

I have told the incredible and inspirational story of Mr. Ramus Rhodes on many occasions. He was the longtime janitor at the University of Alabama School of Law.

The measure of a man is not found in his job title or socio-economic status in life. It is gauged by what he stands for and who he stands with.

I have met presidents of nations and dignitaries all over the world. I have visited people from the White House to the poor house. Nobody has ever stood taller than Mr. Ramus Rhodes. He was the definition of “greatness” and the epitome of “class and character.”

Mr. Rhodes molded me into a prolific and effective litigator. His friendship, mentorship, and counseling in law school gave me the trial skills I needed to amass a 217-8 win-loss record in courtroom battles during my 46-year litigation career.

Before graduating from law school in 1973, I asked Law School Dean Thomas Christopher to hang a portrait of Mr. Rhodes among the portraits of the professors that lined the walls of Farrah Hall. I explained to Dean Christopher the brilliance of Mr. Rhodes and his significance to the Black law students at Farrah Hall.

Christopher, who was a courageous and fair-minded man, agreed to do so. The portrait hung alongside the law school’s faculty members. This made Mr. Rhodes and me extremely proud.

Before I left Farrah Hall after graduation in May 1973, I went and stood in front of Mr. Rhodes' portrait. I saluted my mentor and bade him farewell.

Upon My Return, The Portrait was Missing

About 30 years later, I visited the law school, which was now housed in its current building on campus, to lecture a class on international business and to speak to a group of Black law students. Before I started my class, I walked the halls on the first floor with Dean Kenneth Randall looking for Mr. Rhodes’ portrait among the portraits of the professors that lined the walls. It was nowhere to be found.

I told Dean Randall about Mr. Rhodes and asked him what happened to his portrait. He told me there was a portrait of a Black man hanging downstairs in the students’ “break room." We dashed downstairs and there it was – Mr. Rhodes’ faded portrait. It was hanging between two vending machines.

I was devastated. Once again, Mr. Rhodes had been reduced in stature and dishonored. Somebody apparently thought the man in the portrait was a janitor and his portrait belonged between two vending machines. I teared up as a whole range of emotions ran through me.

As I looked around and saw the multitude of the Black students busying themselves with their studies, I could tell that none of them had a clue about the man in the portrait or any knowledge of his greatness.  Mr. Rhodes’ story had been lost with the passage of time. His greatness had slipped away in the shadows of time passed.

Epilogue

Thanks to the power of my digital media platforms, I have been able to revive the story of Mr. Ramus Rhodes and restore his legendary impact on the first Black law students at the University of Alabama. Over the course of 70 years, Mr. Rhodes' media profile has evolved from the “quietly dignified colored janitor” described in a 1956 Anniston Star article to the “giant among men” I described in several published articles, countless speeches, and media interviews.

In Charles Shield’s 2007 book titled, “Mockingbird: A Portrait of Harper Lee," Mr. Rhodes was described as the “official mascot” of the law school who played “popular tunes on an organ” as he was “surrounded by four law school cheerleaders throwing candy to the crowd” in the homecoming parade during football season.

In 2024, an Alabama Law Review article by Paul M. Pruitt, Jr. (at page 634) finally and officially recognized the vital role Mr. Rhodes played for the first group of Black students who desegregated the law school.

Mr. Rhodes is one of my personal heroes. When I look at his face, I am staring directly at God's greatness in a human being.