Column: Role model or grim statistic?

The senseless death of Michael Costin confounded me.

How could the 40-year-old single father get himself killed in a stupid fight over his son's meaningless hockey scrimmage?

Then I read a little bit about his background. The Lynnfield, Mass., man had a 20-year criminal history that included illegal gun possession and assault and battery on a police officer. His own father had been convicted of manslaughter in the death of another son back in the 1970s.

Dysfunctional background, I concluded. Not a fate that would befall a well-educated, upwardly mobile, civilized professional.

Or so I thought. Until a recent golf game (upscale enough?) with a couple of partners whom I counted among my most respected friends.

The two were locked in a close battle midway through the back nine. On one particular hole, on which they had a modest $5 wager, they had a dispute over each other's scores.

I thought nothing of it, as the pair often have their on-course arguments, before forgetting about them over a post-round cocktail. But on this recent occasion, their dispute turned decidedly ugly.

First they were in each other's faces. Then there was a shove. Then clubs were drawn. Had I not intervened, they just might have killed each other. One of them could have ended up like Michael Costin.

Yet, these men are supposed to be different. Both are educated. Both are upwardly mobile. And both appear to be genteel. Nevertheless, they were quite prepared to do bodily harm to each other on that golf course. Over a measly $5 wager.

What particularly troubled me is that these two men -- one a father of two beautiful little girls; the other a father of a bright teen-aged daughter -- might be viewed as role models for young black men.

They are, arguably, members of the class of black Americans to whom the late great social scientist and political activist W.E.B. Du Bois referred as the "Talented Tenth."

This black "aristocracy of talent and character," wrote Du Bois, "rises and pulls all that are worth the saving up to their vantage ground." Its noblesse oblige is to "guide the mass away from the contamination and death of the worst, in their own and other races."

This calling by Du Bois, which has been echoed down through the years by any number of black leaders, falls heaviest upon successful black men. For they must present positive role models for young black men, the most at-risk population in the country.

Indeed, as I have previously written, young black men constitute less than 1 percent of the U.S. population, but, lamentably, commit nearly 20 percent of the nation's crimes.

This explains why nearly a third of black males aged 20 to 29 are serving criminal sentences -- either prison, probation or parole.

Of course, there are a number of contributing factors. Most young black men were born out of wedlock. Most were brought up by a single parent. Most were reared in poverty. Add to these disadvantages the 10-percent high-school dropout rate for young black males and the 15-percent incidence of illegal drug use, and it is obvious why young black men have to overcome considerable obstacles to lead successful lives.

That's why it is so important that they have role models they can look up to. Not so much the rich and famous black male celebrities from the worlds of professional sports and entertainment, but solid citizens in their own black communities to whom they can relate; whom they can aspire to emulate.

That's why my two golf partners so disappointed me. They were a heartbeat away from doing each other serious bodily harm, reinforcing the highly negative stereotype that black men are prone to violence.

I'm just glad that I was able to prevent the manslaughter. For the very last thing that young at-risk black men in my community need to hear or read about are two seemingly successful adult black men who couldn't resolve their petty differences without resorting to violence.

Joseph Perkins is a columnist for The San Diego Union-Tribune.