Sidney Poitier’s father fetched a shoe box when he was born.
He was two months early. Nobody expected him to survive.
A fortune teller told his mother he would survive and carry the Poitier name around the world.
He grew up on Cat Island where the days moved at the speed of the sun. His father grew tomatoes. There were no roads. No automobiles. No mirrors.
The little boy and his shadow raced down the beach together. The position of the sun determined the winner.
He had never seen his own face when his family moved to Nassau. On the boat he saw something moving in the distance and asked his mother what it was. A car, she said.
He was 10 years old.
The day he left for the United States his mother fastened the buttons on his shirt. Touched his face. Without a word she guided him out the door. His father walked him to the pier and pressed $3 into his hand.
The sun was in a different position now.
He was 15.
He moved to Miami in 1943. He didn’t stay long.
In New York City he washed dishes. Every night after his shift he sat with an elderly waiter and worked through the newspaper word by word.
He went to the American Negro Theater and they let him in.
In 1966 a film producer brought him a script about a Black detective in Mississippi and a plantation owner who raises his hand.
I’ll make this movie, Poitier told him.
If he slaps me, I’m going to slap him back. You will put on paper that the studio agrees that the film will be shown nowhere in the world with me standing there taking the slap.
In the Heat of the Night opened in 1967.
Every time I took a part, Poitier said, I always said to myself, this must reflect well on my father’s name.
Theme: “What You Plant in Secret”
Date Published: Friday, May 1, 2026
Mr. Poitier was a charming gentleman, and a great actor.