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Friday, November 13, 2026Nov 13

As Ali’s funeral nears, Louisville remembers the Lip

Members of the public line up waiting for the ticket office to open for tickets for Muhammad Ali's Jenazah service at Freedom Hall Tuesday, June 7, 2016, in Louisville, Ky. The day before his star-studded funeral, members of Ali's Islamic faith will get their chance to say a traditional goodbye during a Jenazah, a traditional Muslim funeral. (AP Photo/David Goldman)
Members of the public line up waiting for the ticket office to open for tickets for Muhammad Ali's Jenazah service at Freedom Hall Tuesday, June 7, 2016, in Louisville, Ky. The day before his star-studded funeral, members of Ali's Islamic faith will get their chance to say a traditional goodbye during a Jenazah, a traditional Muslim funeral. (AP Photo/David Goldman) Members of the public line up waiting for the ticket office to open for tickets for Muhammad Ali's Jenazah service at Freedom Hall Tuesday, June 7, 2016, in Louisville, Ky. The day before his star-studded funeral, members of Ali's Islamic faith will get their chance to say a traditional goodbye during a Jenazah, a traditional Muslim funeral. (AP Photo/David Goldman)

LOUISVILLE, Ky. (AP) – The most famous man in the world sat down in a busy airport terminal with a little girl he’d never met, and the pair played pat-a-cake for 10 minutes.

That was 19 years ago. Muhammad Ali was waiting for a flight in Charlotte, North Carolina, when he noticed the 3-year-old girl and offered a hug. The child’s father, Louisville Metro Police Maj. Kelly Jones, still marvels at the encounter: Ali’s massive hand clapping his daughter’s tiny one.

Such stories spread this week across the city that raised the Louisville Lip, as dozens visited memorials or waited in line for tickets to services to say a final farewell to Ali, who died Friday at 74.

They recounted brushes with him at baseball games and at the barber shop; how he held them as a baby or wrapped his giant arms around their children. Even the tiniest moment seems tremendously special to the person who experienced it. They touched The Greatest, they say. And in some way, it made them greater, too.

For 40 years, two black and white photos have hung on Joan Carter’s living room wall. In one, her 9-year-old daughter, her hair tied in pigtails and a spoon in her hand, looks over her shoulder as she reaches out to Ali, crouched on his knees.