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Actor and beloved baritone James Earl Jones dies at 93

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Actor and beloved baritone James Earl Jones dies at 93

James Earl Jones, pictured here in 2014, followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, all of whom refused to be limited by stereotypical roles.

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James Earl Jones, pictured here in 2014, followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, all of whom refused to be limited by stereotypical roles.

James Earl Jones, pictured here in 2014, followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, all of whom refused to be limited by stereotypical roles.

Jesse Dittmar for The Washington Post/Getty Images

One of America’s most beloved actors, James Earl Jones, died Monday at age 93. He was at home in Dutchess County, N.Y. surrounded by his family, his longtime agent Barry McPherson confirmed to NPR.

In addition to an illustrious stage career — which included roles in classics like Macbeth, Othello and The Iceman Cometh — Jones also had an extensive film career, appearing in Dr. Strangelove, Field of Dreams, and The Hunt for Red October. He voiced Mufasa in The Lion King, and as Darth Vader, he delivered the line that still sends shivers up the spines of Star Wars fans: “I am your father.”

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James Earl Jones was born on Jan. 17, 1931, in Arkabutla, Miss. He was raised by his grandparents. When he was 5 years old, the family moved to a rural farm in Dublin, Mich. Jones said the move so traumatized him that he developed a severe stutter that continued until he was in high school.

“I was able to function as a farm kid, doing all those chores where you call animals,” he told WHYY’s Fresh Air in 1993, “and I certainly let the family know what my needs were. But when strangers came to the house, the mute happened. I didn’t want to confront them and I wasn’t ready. I hid in a state of muteness.”

Then a high school teacher found a way to help: “He one day discovered that I wrote poetry and he said to me, ‘This poem is so good I can’t believe you wrote it. The way you can prove it to me is to get up in front of the class and recite it by heart.’ And I accepted the challenge and did it, and we both realized we had a means — we had a way of regaining the power of speech through poetry.”

And what a power it was. Jones’ baritone came complete with its own echo chamber. His voice became one of the most instantly recognizable in entertainment history.

Everything about him was big: his commanding stage presence, the intensity of his glance and his brilliance at his chosen craft. Woodie King Jr. is founder of New York’s New Federal Theater, which has been producing shows by and about African-Americans throughout its history. He first became aware of Jones in the early 1960s.

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“I was a young aspiring actor who had come into New York and he had all the elements of acting — physicality, vocal range, psychically in tune with what was going on,” King says. “And I wanted to be that kind of artist who had that kind of freedom with his instrument.”

King saw Jones’ critically acclaimed performance in a 1961 production of Jean Genet’s The Blacks. He also worked with Jones in a 1968 Broadway production of Howard Sackler’s The Great White Hope, based on the life of champion black boxer Jack Johnson.

“It was an unbelievable kind of performance,” King recalled. “It was an amazing metamorphosis, watching him transform himself into this vicious boxer.”

 Muhammad Ali, (left) spars with Jones, then the star of The Great White Hope, in 1969.

Muhammad Ali, (left) spars with Jones, then the star of The Great White Hope, in 1969.

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 Muhammad Ali, (left) spars with Jones, then the star of The Great White Hope, in 1969.

Muhammad Ali, (left) spars with Jones, then the star of The Great White Hope, in 1969.

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Jones won a Tony for that role, as well as an Oscar nomination for the 1970 film adaptation, and he won a second Tony in 1987 for his role in August Wilson’s Fences.

His first film role was as bombardier Lothar Zogg in Stanley Kubrick’s 1964 classic Dr. Strangelove. In 1972’s The Man, Jones played the first black president; in the 1974 black classic Claudine, he played a garbage man who charms a date out of a welfare mom; and in 1989’s Field of Dreams, he explained why people would care about a baseball diamond in an Iowa cornfield. Jones has said that one of his favorite roles was that of the South African reverend in Cry, the Beloved Country.

Jones’ voice has pervaded pop culture: He’s the voice of CNN and Verizon, and even showed up on a few episodes of The Simpsons, which managed to kid the actor about his kaleidoscopic work in one fell swoop.

In his conversation with Fresh Air, Jones remembered the beginning of his voice-over career with amusement. “I think the first commercials I did … they asked me to ‘just give us the sound of God.’ … They were not embarrassed about saying that.”

Jones takes a bow after his final performance in Broadway's You Can't Take It With You in 2015.

Jones takes a bow after his final performance in Broadway’s You Can’t Take It With You in 2015.

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New Federal Theater’s Woodie King said Jones was a warm, somewhat shy man who was a powerful artist. He followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, all of whom refused to be limited by the old stereotypical roles of butlers or buffoons. Jones saw theater as a place for all people.

“What you have is a master craftsman at work,” King said. “He makes young people aware of the vast possibilities of this business when you are a craftsman. … The Broadway stage sees him as really colorless — not black or white, but a brilliant artist.”

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Sunday Puzzle: Five plus two, two plus five

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Sunday Puzzle: Five plus two, two plus five

Sunday Puzzle

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Sunday Puzzle

On-air challenge

I’m going to give you two five-letter words. Add the same two letters at the end of the first one and the start of the second one, in each case to complete a familiar seven-letter word.

Ex. Later Ready –> LATERAL/ALREADY

1. Habit Tempt

2. Laten Press

3. Blank Ching

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4. Since Venue

5. Shack Groom

6. Surge Stage

Last week’s challenge

Last week’s challenge came from Rawson Sheinberg. of Plymouth, Mich. Think of a U.S. city with a two-word name. Add a letter to the first word, without rearranging letters, to name a country. Then, without adding a letter, rearrange the letters of the second word to name another country. What places are these?

Answer: Los Angeles –> Laos, Senegal

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Winner

Elaine Neel of Derby, Kansas.

This week’s challenge

Next weekend will be the 186th convention of the National Puzzler League, in Bloomington, Ind., which I’ll be attending as always. Two other people who will be there are Henri Picciotto and Joshua Kosman, who created this week’s challenge. Name two words that are opposites. They share a single letter. Remove that shared letter from each word, put a hyphen between the two starting words, and you’ll get a term you sometimes see in food ads. What are the two words?

If you know the answer to the challenge, submit it here by Thursday, July 9 at 3 p.m. ET. Listeners whose answers are selected win a chance to play the on-air puzzle. Important: include a phone number where we can reach you.

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But first, coffee: The drink that energized the American Revolution

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But first, coffee: The drink that energized the American Revolution

An illustration of the Boston Tea Party, when colonists dumped British East India Company tea into the harbor on Dec. 16, 1773. Some accounts say this marked a pivotal moment when Americans started loving coffee. But one historian says Americans were drinking lots of coffee before then.

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A consequential act of defiance secured tea’s place as perhaps the most iconic beverage of America’s colonial era.

The Boston Tea Party became an essential ingredient in the recipe for revolution in the following years.

But tea wasn’t the only hot beverage with a prominent role in America’s fight for independence.

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Coffee was an important part of American culture from the start. And coffeehouses were essential, too — serving as hubs for brewing ideas of independence.

As the United States celebrates 250 years, here’s what to know about America’s early history of coffee.

Colonists were drinking coffee long before the United States existed

Europeans brought coffee with them when they came to America.

“The first documented example of a mortar and pestle used to grind coffee beans was on the Mayflower” in 1620, says historian Michelle Craig McDonald, the author of Coffee Nation: How One Commodity Transformed the Early United States.

“The fact that coffee was present so early is not surprising if you think about it,” McDonald says. “A number of those who were on the Mayflower came to North America from Amsterdam, which was a major coffee trading center in Western Europe by the 17th century.”

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The first coffeehouse in the colonies opened in 1676 in Boston, a century before the U.S. declared independence, she says. Some taverns sold coffee even earlier.

The Boston Tea Party probably wasn’t the dramatic turning point toward coffee that some claim

On the night of Dec. 16, 1773, disgruntled colonists boarded three ships moored in Boston Harbor and threw overboard more than 92,000 pounds of tea owned by the British East India Company.

Tensions had been building between the Crown and the colonies over the previous decade, as Britain tried to levy taxes on its colonies to recoup war debts.

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You know the Mayflower. What about the White Lion? Here’s the story of ‘Two Ships’

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You know the Mayflower. What about the White Lion? Here’s the story of ‘Two Ships’

Just in time for a contentious 250th anniversary of the United States of America, historian David S. Reynolds’ latest book, Two Ships, helps us realize that any country that couldn’t agree on its own origin story is destined for divisive times.

Two Ships is about the complicated, conjoined legacy of the landings of the Mayflower, which carried the Pilgrims to Plymouth, Mass., in 1620, and the White Lion, which arrived in Jamestown a year earlier, bringing the first enslaved Africans to Virginia.

As Reynolds demonstrates, it’s not so much the facts of these two voyages, as it is the meanings ascribed to them, that made them such a powerful metaphor for two conflicting visions of American identity.

To simplify, the Mayflower’s passengers were separatist Puritans, dissenters to the reign of the English king, James I. As the United States developed, the Mayflower was credited with carrying the seeds of a radical democracy to the New World, one in which all men (in theory, at least) were equal before God.

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In contrast, the European settlers of Jamestown were Royalists, also known as Cavaliers. Loyal to the monarchy, they believed in a strict hierarchy.

But the meaning of the images of the two ships shifted depended on who was invoking them and when. Not surprisingly, the metaphor was deployed most vigorously during the Civil War. In abolitionist speeches and writings, the White Lion or the “Slave-Ship,” as it was commonly called, was condemned for infecting America with the “plague-spot” of slavery.

Reynolds says that Frederick Douglass resorted to the “two ships” metaphor frequently, while Lincoln avoided it, hoping to preserve a unified ship of state. Meanwhile, Southern descendants of Cavaliers invoked the Mayflower to emphasize the intolerance and “cruel, persecuting” character of the Puritans. In a comment that resonates for our own times, Reynolds says:

It didn’t matter to the South that … by the mid-nineteenth century, the North had become a kaleidoscope of religious denominations, …, few of which resembled the faith of the Plymouth colonists. Distortion is intrinsic to cultural memory, especially when amplified by sectional or political bias. For Southerners, the Mayflower had brought Puritanism, which had yielded fanatical movements like abolitionism, now a dire threat to the Union.

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