Ken Boddie is a reporter and anchor at KOIN-TV in Portland. He is a graduate of Cornell University in Ithaca, New York. He also teaches a broadcast media class at the university level. In his spare time, Ken is active in the community, acting as master of ceremonies and host for many charitable events.

Mister Wesley
The runs at the Clinton Avenue Recreation Center were always the best in town. If you lived in Rochester , New York , and you thought you had game, then Clinton Avenue was where you had to prove it. Playground legends were made there. Glenn Hagan with his 1001 moves. Larry Lane with that rainbow jumper that seemed to pour down from the heavens. Dan Panaggio running offense like the coach he later chose to become. I played with all of those guys, even though they were a lot better. Track and field was my thing, so basketball was my second sport. But my training as a long jumper gave me “mad hops”, as they say, so I could block shots and get rebounds.

My dad Thurman helped run the place. A former football star at Cornell University , he made a career as a referee when he wasn't at Clinton Avenue . But the director, Mr. Wesley, was always there.

Alvin Wesley was born May 29 th , 1919 in Texas . He was an educated man, with a master's degree from NYU. Mr. Wesley was passionate about working with young people, and the Center was the perfect way for him to satisfy himself, educate us, and make a real impact in our lives. Though he never fathered children of his own, he was a father to many.

Mr. Wesley moved to Rochester in 1967. So he had already been there for six or seven years by the time I turned 15. I was a real gym rat when I wasn't out on the track, especially during the cold, often brutal, Rochester winters.

Mr. Wesley (we always called him that, never by his first name) taught me a lot about respect, and its rewards. We all respected him, despite his quiet, yet friendly demeanor. To have that happen was no small task.

Clinton Avenue wasn't in the best neighborhood. Street thugs sometimes hung around the place. Neighborhood rivalries simmered. It would have been easy for bad things to happen there. But, amazingly, nothing ever did. Mr. Wesley had a lot to do with that. He tried to connect with anyone who walked through the door. He genuinely cared, and helped young people solve problems, even if it was just getting you something to eat, talking to you, or giving you something to do to keep you off the street. We saw him get tough, too. He threw a few people out. But he was like the godfather. He'd give the order, and the regulars who respected him would actually do the tossing. He didn't tolerate people messing up a good thing, and neither did we.

A lot of the Clinton Avenue regulars went on to bigger and better things. A few of them ended up dying young, or in prison. But while we were at the Center, nobody wanted to disappoint Mr. Wesley.

He passed away five years ago. But Mister Wesley proved that one person can make a big difference that lasts many lifetimes.