Thirty-nine years after he silently bowed his head and defiantly thrust a black-gloved right hand skyward from the victory stand at the Mexico City Olympics, Tommie Smith still has a powerful message to spread.

A lifetime after he won a gold medal in the 200 meters in record time, he is still a man on the move. Atlanta yesterday, Honolulu today. Always with a compelling story to tell.

Time has taken its toll on a 63-year-old who, at one time, held 11 world records simultaneously. But Smith's passion, like the Olympic flame, remains bright.

It is what brings Smith to 'Iolani School's St. Alban's Chapel tomorrow for a 7 p.m. speech that is open to the public. It is what propels him around the nation as committed to spreading a message of equality and justice as the day when he and with teammate John Carlos made their gesture of protest on the world's biggest stage.

It was a statement without words yet one that spoke volumes to the overriding issues of the times. It peacefully brought sports into the real world, something that would change tragically in the subsequent Olympiad. And it serves as a reminder today of where we've come and where we still need to go.

Never mind that many in his audiences these days were born decades after the 1968 event got Smith and Carlos banned from the Olympics and summarily sent home. Their courageous stand, immortalized in the poster that is an enduring piece of the turbulent 1960s history, resonates today.

It is, in fact, part of what brings Smith to Honolulu, where the poster is hung in the high school classroom of 'Iolani English teacher Peter Greenhill.

"I see it every day and one day asked myself, 'Why not ask him to come and inspire people?' " Greenhill said. "That's how it got started."

Indeed, Smith is an iconic reminder of the era of civil rights struggle and changing attitudes in the country, a Rosa Parks of athletics who spoke not only for himself but those who had no stage or voice.

Unlike some Olympians who returned home to cheers and a place on the Wheaties box, Smith was decried by many and widely shunned. Unlike today's biggest stars who remain silent on social issues lest they risk multimillion-dollar endorsement deals, Smith let his conscience be his guide and his heart an inspiration. As such, there wasn't a visit to the White House or grand parade. Mostly condemnation from on high.

Smith worked in a car wash to pay the bills and took night classes to finish a degree at San Jose State. He was careful who he associated with, not so much out of avoiding the spotlight but out of fear of complicating their lives.

And, as he notes in his book, "Silent Gesture," so shrill and heated was the outcry that he feared for his life from the medal stand on. Even today, Smith said, he is careful when he is out in public.

"I know I suffered because of that protest for the Olympic Project for Human Rights on the victory stand because the word was that I should not have done what I did," Smith said. "I think those people missed the point. The suffering came because of the embarrassment of a country that was not treating all of its inhabitants the same way. I would not tolerate (inequality) then, would not tolerate it now, and will not as long as I am living."

Smith played three years in the National Football League, earned advanced degrees, coached and teaches. But he is inexorably linked to a moment in Mexico City. Going on 40 years since the incident that defined him, Smith said, "Every time I speak (and) every day I get up, I'm proud of that stand."

The record he set in winning the 200 meters stood for 11 years. The message he sent from the victory stand still echoes.

Reach Ferd Lewis at flewis@honoluluadvertiser.com or 525-8044.