![James Earl Jones, pictured here in 2014, followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, all of whom refused to be limited by stereotypical roles.](https://media.npr.org/assets/img/2017/02/10/gettyimages-463747494small_slide-068f5e2ed27fb7f0d39190432f5cf02d2da2c1cf.jpg?s=1100&c=85&f=jpeg)
James Earl Jones, pictured here in 2014, followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, all of whom refused to be limited by stereotypical roles.
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James Earl Jones, pictured here in 2014, followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, all of whom refused to be limited by stereotypical roles.
Jesse Dittmar for The Washington Post/Getty Images
One of America’s most beloved actors, James Earl Jones, died Monday at age 93. He was at home in Dutchess County, N.Y. surrounded by his family, his longtime agent Barry McPherson confirmed to NPR.
In addition to an illustrious stage career — which included roles in classics like Macbeth, Othello and The Iceman Cometh — Jones also had an extensive film career, appearing in Dr. Strangelove, Field of Dreamsand The Hunt for Red October. He voiced Mufasa in The Lion King, and as Darth Vader, he delivered the line that still sends shivers up the spines of Star Wars fans: “I am your father.”
James Earl Jones was born on Jan. 17, 1931, in Arkabutla, Miss. He was raised by his grandparents. When he was 5 years old, the family moved to a rural farm in Dublin, Mich. Jones said the move so traumatized him that he developed a severe stutter that continued until he was in high school.
“I was able to function as a farm kid, doing all those chores where you call animals,” he told WHYY’s Fresh Air in 1993, “and I certainly let the family know what my needs were. But when strangers came to the house, the mute happened. I didn’t want to confront them and I wasn’t ready. I hid in a state of muteness.”
Then a high school teacher found a way to help: “He one day discovered that I wrote poetry and he said to me, ‘This poem is so good I can’t believe you wrote it. The way you can prove it to me is to get up in front of the class and recite it by heart.’ And I accepted the challenge and did it, and we both realized we had a means — we had a way of regaining the power of speech through poetry.”
And what a power it was. Jones’ baritone came complete with its own echo chamber. His voice became one of the most instantly recognizable in entertainment history.
Everything about him was big: his commanding stage presence, the intensity of his glance and his brilliance at his chosen craft. Woodie King Jr. is founder of New York’s New Federal Theater, which has been producing shows by and about African-Americans throughout its history. He first became aware of Jones in the early 1960s.
![James Earl Jones: From Stutterer To Janitor To Broadway Star](https://media.npr.org/assets/img/2014/11/07/ap101020125643_sq-c6c8f7e38581cf5b00c5684a0223aef45bfe7715.jpg?s=100&c=100&f=jpeg)
“I was a young aspiring actor who had come into New York and he had all the elements of acting — physicality, vocal range, psychically in tune with what was going on,” King says. “And I wanted to be that kind of artist who had that kind of freedom with his instrument.”
King saw Jones’ critically acclaimed performance in a 1961 production of Jean Genet’s The Blacks. He also worked with Jones in a 1968 Broadway production of Howard Sackler’s The Great White Hopebased on the life of champion black boxer Jack Johnson.
“It was an unbelievable kind of performance,” King recalled. “It was an amazing metamorphosis, watching him transform himself into this vicious boxer.”
Muhammad Ali, (left) spars with Jones, then the star of The Great White Hopein 1969.
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![Muhammad Ali, (left) spars with Jones, then the star of The Great White Hope, in 1969.](https://media.npr.org/assets/img/2017/02/10/ap_6911100177_custom-4d557a5236e91acc6453801abe86e697f9c7cfc8.jpg?s=2600&c=100&f=jpeg)
Muhammad Ali, (left) spars with Jones, then the star of The Great White Hopein 1969.
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Jones won a Tony for that role, as well as an Oscar nomination for the 1970 film adaptation, and he won a second Tony in 1987 for his role in August Wilson’s Fences.
His first film role was as bombardier Lothar Zogg in Stanley Kubrick’s 1964 classic Dr. Strangelove. In 1972’s The ManJones played the first black president; in the 1974 black classic Claudine, he played a garbage man who charms a date out of a welfare mom; and in 1989’s Field of Dreamshe explained why people would care about a baseball diamond in an Iowa cornfield. Jones has said that one of his favorite roles was that of the South African reverend in Cry, the Beloved Country.
Jones’ voice has pervaded pop culture: He’s the voice of CNN and Verizon, and even showed up on a few episodes of The Simpsonswhich managed to kid the actor about his kaleidoscopic work in one fell swoop.
In his conversation with Fresh AirJones remembered the beginning of his voice-over career with amusement. “I think the first commercials I did … they asked me to ‘just give us the sound of God.’ … They were not embarrassed about saying that.”
Jones takes a bow after his final performance in Broadway’s You Can’t Take It With You in 2015.
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New Federal Theater’s Woodie King said Jones was a warm, somewhat shy man who was a powerful artist. He followed in the footsteps of actors like Sidney Poitier, Paul Robeson and Canada Lee, all of whom refused to be limited by the old stereotypical roles of butlers or buffoons. Jones saw theater as a place for all people.
“What you have is a master craftsman at work,” King said. “He makes young people aware of the vast possibilities of this business when you are a craftsman. … The Broadway stage sees him as really colorless — not black or white, but a brilliant artist.”