Mr. Mellow

The bombshell in the Miller article, however, concerned Price's relationships with women. Miller quoted three women, who weren't identified by name, accusing the commissioner of raping them--allegations that Price denied. Miller also revealed that Price had borrowed money from his campaign fund to pay off his personal home-improvement loan and failed to report the transaction, as state law requires. After the article's publication, the district attorney investigated the sexual-assault and campaign-finance allegations, but eventually dropped the cases.

This time, rather than outright refuse an interview, Price opted to let a reporter sit in his office for several hours and, at the same time--as if to negate the interview taking place--permitted his secretary to interrupt constantly with a stream of phone calls.

But eavesdropping on Price's conversations offers its own rewards. Among the callers that May morning was Municipal Judge Charles Rose, a man who, years ago, accused Price of physically striking him.

It seems KTVT-Channel 11 had run a story the previous night questioning Rose's actions as a judge--inquiring why several truant youths who'd come to Rose's court had somehow ended up in a youth camp in Mississippi that was under investigation by the local district attorney. Rose seemed to be trying to figure out whether Price had sicced the reporter on him. (Rose later told the Observer he'd never called Price.)

"They haven't talked to me," Price said. "Judge, nobody really knows anything. Judge, I understand that, I understand that, but I haven't talked to one person in the media. I don't know how it could be leaking. [Channel 11 reporter] Stephanie Lucero has not telephoned or paged this office. My advice to you would be to get you an attorney. It's not about having anything to hide, but about whether or not you want to protect yourself," Price concluded, clearing his throat.

The oldest of six children, Price grew up in Forney, which is about a 45-minute drive east of Dallas. His mother, Willie Fay Price, still lives in the same house where he spent his high school days. The modest, wood-frame home--which has no central air--is freshly painted dark blue with maroon trimming. Inside, the front parlor has white walls, gold carpet, and gold velvet furniture, all reminiscent of the '70s. On display at the coffee table are programs from receptions where Willie Fay's oldest son received honors, including a South Dallas Business and Professional Club meeting in 1985 and the City of Dallas' Martin Luther King Day in 1988.

At 74, Price's mother is too weary to detail all of her son's exploits. In the past two decades, Willie Fay Price has suffered a heart attack, become dependent on insulin, and lost her husband and two sons. Price's youngest brother died at the age of 17 from a mysterious illness. And his closest brother in age, a juvenile diabetic, died in his 40s after losing limbs and sight.

"He calls me every day," she says of Price. He also visits her once or twice a week, and court records show he provides a $400 monthly supplement to her Social Security stipend.

When Willie Fay was younger, she worked full-time as a domestic. "I had some real nice people that I worked for," she says. She named three of her children with the monikers her employers had chosen. "I let other people do my naming," Willie Fay says. "I had so many. It didn't matter to me." (John Wiley Price was named after his grandfather.)

For Price, his mother's line of work meant he spent his early years living in servants' quarters in the white part of Forney. "He had some real nice white friends," Willie Fay recalls cheerily.

Price was also one of the first black children to travel to white schools when integration began. Unlike his white classmates, Price recalls, he and most of the other black children picked cotton every summer. His mother says she always permitted her kids to keep the money they earned and use it for school clothes. "We brought them up in a way that we thought would be useful," Willie Fay says about her children. "So they knew about working and did not mind working."

But with her oldest, she says, "Nobody had to push him to do things." He was always "apt," she says, a quick study. He favored mechanical pursuits as a youngster--such as taking apart machines.

Price's father, who died in 1980, labored as a janitor, cleaning offices. He would often take his son with him. On weekends, the older Price was a Baptist minister, driving his big family around to rural congregations. Price's grandfather was an educator at an all-black school and an active community leader in Saint Augustine, Texas, where both his parents were raised and much of his extended family still lives.