Kathi Overstreet wasn't crazy about being at the 100 Black Men of America gala held last December at the Paris Las Vegas resort. Though this was one of the largest yearly events for black Las Vegans, to her it was just foo-foo. "It's the same people on all the different groups." But the associate publisher of the Las Vegas Sentinel-Voice, Nevada's only black-owned newspaper, got to work covering the event, along with Publisher Ramon Savoy, a writer and a photographer.
During a ceremony recognizing the charitable contributions of Cox Communications, Steve Schorr, a vice president with the company, accepted an award, and then unexpectedly launched into a passionate tirade about the lack of media coverage. "I'm disappointed there's no Las Vegas media present tonight," he is reported to have said. "This community should be ashamed of itself." Schorr, who is white, is an honorary member of 100 Black Men. He became quite intense during his speech, pounding the table.
Overstreet and Savoy were mad that their paper had been overlooked. Savoy approached the emcee of the event, Lillian McMorris, moments later and demanded a retraction. "You know that's not what he meant," she told him.
"I don't care what he meant," he told her. "That's what he said."
McMorris relented and later made an announcement to the crowd that the Sentinel-Voice was present, but the paper's staff was not mollified. "It wasn't sincere," says Overstreet.
The Sentinel-Voice, which was founded in 1980, doesn't have a big staff. It operates out of an old bungalow with blue trim near Downtown. The newspaper's circulation is 30,000. "We might be small," Savoy told me, "but we want to be respected."
What has emerged over Schorr's comments is a schism between the paper and the Las Vegas Urban Chamber of Commerce, a beneficiary of Cox's charity. The company has awarded a $15,000 scholarship to the chamber, and provided the chamber with free tech support. Cox also provides about $1.6 million a year to local nonprofits. The animosity is surprising, given how closely connected they are. Kathi Overstreet worked for the chamber. Her uncle, Louie, is the chamber's executive director and was a longtime columnist with the paper. Another writer, Lés Pierres Streater, is a member of 100 Black Men.
A week after the gala, the Sentinel-Voice dutifully ran a front-page story about the success of the event—and then ran two editorials inside attacking it.
"The stigma that's dogged black media for nearly two centuries reared its ugly head on Saturday at the Paris hotel-casino's convention center," Savoy wrote. "The stigma is that the black press, by sheer virtue of its blackness, is somehow inferior to the mainstream press, the information contained in its pages, carried through its airwaves and transmitted via its newscasts is somehow less reliable, less vetted, less important and, therefore, doesn't so much qualify as news ..."
In another piece, Overstreet took aim at Schorr's lapse: "This time I'll charge it to Mr. Schorr's head and not his heart, but the next time—and I pray to God there won't be a next time, but if there is—his honorary 'Soul Brother' card gets suspended in my book."
After that, Savoy says, "all hell hit the fan."
Cox called the next day seeking to run some ads with the paper. (The paper refused.) The following Monday, Louie Overstreet penned an advertorial entitled "Shame on our Friends at the Sentinel-Voice," taking aim at his niece.
The ad stated that Schorr was "an unquestioned friend of the African-American community, first in Philadelphia and now here in Las Vegas. Thus, to have his remarks, for which he received a standing ovation from over 900 persons in attendance, misrepresented by the Sentinel-Voice and Kathi Overstreet is highly deplorable."
Savoy refused to run the ad; later that day Louie Overstreet quit the paper. (Louie Overstreet did not return several calls from the Weekly.) And Hanna Brown, president of the Urban Chamber, told the Weekly she had nothing to say. "It's a dead issue. I'm not going to feed into trying to keep it alive."
But the chamber may have gotten the last word. Despite having spent 17 months volunteering for her uncle's organization, and then another seven working in a contract position, Kathi Overstreet was fired on Christmas Eve. Her uncle signed her termination letter. Overstreet is now contemplating legal action; she feels she was fired because of the article she wrote. She used to idolize her uncle. But now? "He's like a beautiful package," she says. "When you open it up there's nothing inside."