Muhammad Ali Museum of Bethany

The Epiphany in Bethany
Bethany (Private home)
December 2022

CT museum visit #489

If you’re unaware, Muhammad Ali was born Cassius Clay. The three-time world heavyweight champion, wordsmith, advocate, and showman died in 2016.

I don’t know how to begin this page. I don’t know how to end this page. And frankly, I’m not sure how to write anything in the middle of this page. (Okay, to be fair to myself, I think the ending is pretty good… and what the heck, it began with a title aping Ali’s famous “Thrilla in Manilla” and “Rumble in the Jungle”.)

These difficulties are not normal for me at all. And there’s one person to blame: Rick Kaletsky. This guy:

Kaletsky is the owner and creator of The Muhammad Ali Museum of Bethany. He is also the tour guide, archivist, valet, concessions manager, and hype man of the very same.

He is also one of the most effusive and gregarious Connecticut residents.

In other words, nothing I write here can possibly live up to Rick… or his massive collection of Ali memorabilia. It’s enough to make me delay writing this page for a year and a half, despite calls and emails from Rick to get off my butt and get it done.

Or, better yet, how about contacting writer Randall Beach, convincing him to convince me to agree to be interviewed, and getting him to tell the world in the resulting article that it’s been a year and a half since I visited the incredible Muhammad Ali Museum of Bethany and I had not yet told the world about it.

Wood knows he has hit pay dirt when he discovers “a quirky place that showcases a passion, an obsession of a single person.”

The Muhammad Ali Museum, located in the basement of Rick Kaletsky’s home in Bethany, was a perfect fit. Kaletsky has assembled a treasure trove of Ali souvenirs: pennants, posters, photos, postcards, comic books, Wheaties boxes, boxing gloves, etc. Kaletsky calls himself “one of the greatest ‘Ali-ologists’ going.”

Okay. That’s true.

[…] to Kaletsky’s bafflement, Wood still hasn’t gotten around to writing a word about the Ali Museum.

“Well, where is it, already?” Kaletsky says when I call him for a comment. “He was here more than a year ago!”

Oof. Like Ali, Kaletsky knows how to sting like a bee.

This sort of explains how Kaletsky became friends with the self-proclaimed “Greatest of all time” boxer. It was that direct brashness in 1963 that compelled a 15-year-old Rick to call directory assistance in Louisville, Kentucky and ask to be connected, collect(!), to Cassius Clay.

Ali (Clay at the time) accepted the charges and had a nice chat with young Rick. Hearing Rick recount this long-ago story, which he’s probably told 10,000 times, is to come to appreciate his love for the boxing legend. There is still emotion in his voice when he notes how humble and kind Clay was to him, expressing surprise that a kid in New Haven had ever heard of the young boxer.

Somehow, from that call, a lifetime friendship was forged. Clay didn’t forget Kaletsky – even when he became one of the most recognizable people on the planet as Muhammad Ali.

Yes, that’s a somewhat crazy story. Also crazy is the fact that Kaletsky has turned his entire basement – every square inch – into the Muhammad Ali Museum of Bethany… and one of the best 90+ minute experiences you can have in Connecticut.

After a dozen missed phone calls wherein Kaletsky left me long, excited voicemails (some with song!), we agreed on a date and time. (Note to retired Museums of Singular Passion Proprietors: I work. I travel. I have two children that require a lot of my time. CTMQ is a hobby. I love what you do and I would love to meet you, but please be patient.)

I had no idea what I was getting into. Although when I saw this as I pulled into his driveway, I began to get an inkling…

You see, the Ali stuff is only half the experience. Rick is the other half. And “half” is being conservative. He’s a ham. A showman. A comedian. And an amazing boxing historian. In other words, he’s just like Muhammad Ali in a sense. The greatest docent of all time? He’s certainly in the conversation.

Now, you must pass through the Bethany Museum of Impressionism in order to get to the Ali Museum of course, but don’t dawdle; there’s a ton to see.

And Rick will guide you every step of the way. There are puns, jokes, and sight-gags throughout. I won’t spoil any of them, but they are clever and witty and the best part is that Rick is fully aware that some are straight up corny while others are perfectly executed genius-level. (Okay, maybe “genius” is a bridge too far… perhaps Ali’s famous ego has affected me here.)

On through the “security measures” (it’s a whole thing) and past the refrigerator (I was given a ginger ale), we began.

Hold on… holy cow. Every square inch of this 400+ square foot Bethany basement is filled with Rick’s Ali collection, as well as some general boxing history. My pictures do not do the collection justice. I should also note that I’m not any sort of Ali or boxing fan at all. And I can’t recommend any museum in Connecticut much more than this one.

And that last bit is important; Rick will tailor your experience based on your interest and level of knowledge. I’ve seen video of him ripping through a detailed timeline of title fights in the 1960’s as though it was yesterday. He knows everything. And he also knows when a visitor doesn’t… like me.

As a boy, Rick became aware of Cassius Clay and followed his exploits in the Olympics as he was attracted to his braggadocio. Kaletsky will note that his favorite fighter’s bravado was different from other fighters’ over the years. Clay/Ali was… fun, whereas Mike Tyson’s “I try to catch them right on the tip of his nose, because I try to punch the bone into the brain,” had a murderous intent. That’s a fair differentiation.

Clay returned from the 1960 Olympics with a gold medal and began his pro career. There’s a story, promulgated by Ali, that he threw his medal into the Ohio River after being refused service at a white’s only restaurant in his native Kentucky. Turns out, he actually did lose his medal, but that story was a fiction to make people more aware of the racist policies in southern states. And a career was launched.

Meanwhile, in Connecticut, a superfan was created. There was that fateful phone call – simply because young Cassius Clay was a Jr., to his fathers Sr. and was therefore listed in the phonebook as such. Rick saw Ali fight eight times in person, including the famous first Ali-Frazier fight at Madison Square Garden.

The museum just kind of happened. It started with a collection of Ali’s early poetry from the 1960’s. Then he began gathering pictures. Even though Rick had Ali’s personal phone number almost his entire life, he rarely bothered the international figure.

I guess Ali never promised to write 2,000 words about him on a local interest website “at some point.”

I kid, I kid.

From those humble beginnings, Rick now has 27-page, single-spaced inventory with thousands of items. I love that he feels the need to recategorize and reorganize his inventory database from time to time. I totally and completely understand that. See: This very website.

(When I’d mention things like this, Rick would put on his Ali face and say something like, “You’re not as dumb as you look.” An Ali-ism. And… thanks?)

Like anyone over a certain age, of course I am familiar with Muhammad Ali. I know that he was one of the greatest boxers of all time. I know he was one of the most famous humans on earth for many years. I know he refused to serve in Vietnam and changed his name after a conversion to Islam. And I know he had Parkinson’s Disease and ultimately died from it. Rick was there to fill in all the gaps in my knowledge.

And, for good measure, he sold me his book about Ali. Call it… the price of admission.

Totally worth it. (I bought two so if you’re reading this and would like one, let me know. Signed by the author!)

(If you’re curious, Kaletsky is no side show. He has had a long career in workplace safety, during which he has authored another book: the definitive book in the field, OSHA Inspections: Preparation and Response (now in 3rd Edition), published by the National Safety Council. He lectures and has been a leading voice in workplace safety and inspections for decades.)

As I poked around the incredibly well documented and presented collection, it occurred to me that it’s not the “stuff” that makes this place so fascinating, it’s Kaletsky’s incredible recall for each piece and how he came to possess it. And how each item fit into the timeline of Ali’s life and career… and how that fit into the history of the sweet science. If I had a question or comment about something, I would be regaled with a rambling yet informative story.

I loved it.

What’s not to love? After all, it is places like the Muhammad Ali Museum of Bethany that spur me to continue my own ridiculous obsession with visiting and writing about the hundreds of museums in Connecticut. I don’t collect anything tangible, and have no interest in doing so, but I certainly collect stories for people to read and memories for myself. Kaletsky one-ups me by collecting artifacts and has the stories and memories to go with them.

Like the story of how he came to possess some small stones from Cassius Clay’s childhood sidewalk. He wanted to see the house, so he simply went there and knocked on the door. He convinced the college-aged guy that he wasn’t an axe-murderer and was allowed to poke around inside. Having spent a couple hours with Rick, I can only imagine that he wasn’t going to take “no” for an answer. And he probably wound up hanging out there all night.

In all, Kaletsky has 16 items signed by Ali and in his case, most of them are personal. Like Ali’s signing of Rick’s own book with, “Love is the net where hearts are caught like fish. June 18-1983”. And the postcard from Zaire the week Ali was there to fight George Foreman. Beyond the signatures, Kaletsky met Ali on 10 occasions. He can tell you the story of each and every one.

One time he crashed his training camp in the Pennsylvania hills. Another he wormed his way backstage after a title fight in New Orleans. Others were less sneaky, like the birthday party and the time Ali visited the long since closed Farm Implement Museum in Bloomfield. How that latter event happened is a mystery to me, but a commenter on my page about that museum said:

My mother worked at the museum for a short time in the mid 80’s. I spent quite a bit of time there. My clearest memory of the place was the time Muhammad Ali visited. Apparently he and Mr. [Wentworth T.] Philips were friends from boxing. He came for a weekend for a promotion. I was there with just a few people when Ali arrived. We went to dinner with a large group of people-including Ali at Delucas right nearby. I remember that the TV news was there. After dinner Ali said he was tired and wanted to rest at Mr. Phillip’s house. My father volunteered to drive him there. I went for the ride as my father drove Muhammad Ali to the house. It has been such a great memory.

So Rick Kaletsky was one of those “few people.” Of course he was. (I believe it was at that meeting where Ali gave Kaletsky the blurb for his book: “The greatest book about me in the world.”)

That young Ricky Kaletsky of New Haven found Cassius Clay and became a fan was pure serendipity. Both men are/were supreme talkers and both have an infectious personality. I’m reminded of a mostly forgotten story Rick told me about how he and a buddy got into a 1969 Mets-Orioles World Series game in Queens. There was humor, some mild misdemeanor of some sort, and for the last couple innings, somehow the pair wound up sitting in the press box. And Rick wound up with the entire bunting from the press box overhang. I wish I remembered the details, for it was a good story.

Kaletsky has a copy of Rudyard Kipling’s poem “If” on display. While seemingly incongruous with the museum, there’s a reason it’s here. For one, it has always been one of Rick’s favorite poems. His father used to read it to him when he was young. Flash forward decades and Ali’s 70th birthday party at his eponymous museum in Louisville. During an orientation movie that was looping before the party, the narrator read the very same poem. Rick was (for once) speechless. What were the chances?

What were the chances Cassius Clay’s father was named Cassius Clay and was listed in the 1963 Louisville directory. What were the chances budding superstar Ali would take the young Connecticut teen’s collect call? And what were the chances that relationship would continue until the boxer’s death? What “If…”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch…

Indeed. Rick Kaletsky walked with the King and now talks with crowds in his densely packed basement.

This, my friends, is a beautiful thing.

If you are interested in visiting, reach out to rkaletsky@gmail.com and make an appointment
The Bethany Museum of Impressionism
The Bethany Interpretive Nature Trail (out back)
CTMQ’s Museum Visits