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Muhammad Ali was honored with his own forever stamp by the United States Postal Service on Jan. 15. "I should be a postage stamp," Ali famously once said, "because that's the only way I'll ever get licked."

I attended the launch celebration in Louisville where Bob Costas served as the master of ceremonies. As I listened to each speaker share memories of The Greatest, I could not help but think about how grounded Ali was in his convictions. His mindset feels so rare, but it also feels so right that he is revered now because of it.

I keep coming back to the part of Muhammad Ali's story when he refused to be drafted for the Vietnam War. Many sought draft deferments due to marital, parental or student status as well as for medical reasons, and Ali wasn't the only one who refused to serve due to religious and moral reasons. The term was "conscientious objector," which according to Amnesty International was defined as being "people who are eligible for conscription but refuse to perform military service for reasons of conscience or profound conviction."

Around 170,000 men received conscientious objector deferments during the Vietnam War, with 61,000 happening in 1971 following the Supreme Court decision that expanded the definition of what could be considered conscientious objection. By then, public support of the war had waned.

However, in 1967, the courts did not believe Ali was genuine in his objection. At his scheduled U.S. Armed Forces induction in Houston, they called his name three times, and three times Ali refused to step forward. He was warned of the consequences and given one more chance to comply. He did not.

Muhammad Ali knew from a very young age that he wanted to be a boxer. He worked tirelessly to make it a reality. He raced the school bus to school. He jumped rope between classes and after school, after his part-time job, he trained at the gym. He said, "Champions are made from something they have deep inside them -- a desire, a dream, a vision."

At the top of his game, the then-undefeated world heavyweight boxing champion was convicted of draft evasion on April 28, 1967. He was stripped of his heavyweight title, suspended from boxing, sentenced to five years in prison and fined $10,000.

"I ain't got no quarrel with those Vietcong," Ali said.

He stayed out of jail on bond for the three years it took to fight the ruling in court and win. And though many think of him fondly today, at the time he was a hated man.

Not only did Muhammad Ali stand up for his convictions, but he did so with swagger. He was loud and proud. He rejected Christianity as the religion of his oppressor. He changed his name from Cassius Clay to Muhammad Ali, denouncing his birth name as a "slave name," for its ties to white ownership. He was a Black Muslim, which many felt had a militant connotation.

Muhammad Ali was radical. He was the "Louisville Lip," audacious enough to think himself worthy and consider himself "The Greatest." Meanwhile, America wanted nothing more than to remind Black people of their second-class status. Ali said: "I am America. I am the part you won't recognize. But get used to me. Black, confident, cocky; my name, not yours; my religion, not yours; my goals, my own; get used to me."

He took on the Vietnam War at a time when it still had public support. But while Ali was shunned from boxing and fighting in court, that tide began to turn. The 1968 Tet Offensive in particular exposed the futility of the Vietnam War. Over time, Muhammad Ali's stance was validated.

Now, Muhammad Ali's forever stamp and the stories of his humanitarian efforts make it hard to imagine him as a hated man. That's the lesson he offers us now. The unflinching truth-tellers are not always appreciated in their own time. We need the people with everything to lose who are willing to step into the light and resist.

Muhammad Ali sacrificed three years of prime fighting time in his life along with the millions of dollars he could have earned to stand up for what he believed in. It was a price he was willing to pay. He served his country in other ways for the rest of his life. It's why when he lit the torch at the 1996 Olympic Games, visibly shaking with Parkinson's, Bob Costas described a collective gasp in that Atlanta stadium -- a gasp that gave way to thunderous applause. By then, most people understood that Muhammad Ali, in all of his audacity, stood on the right side of history.

The champ deserves his forever stamp. Every time I place one on an envelope, I'm going to remember his example of what it really means to be a champ. "You lose nothing when you fight for a cause," Ali said. "In my mind the losers are those who don't have a cause they care about."

Do you know anyone who's doing cool things to make the world a better place? I want to know. Send me an email at Bonnie@WriterBonnie.com. Also, stay in the loop by signing up for her weekly newsletter at WriterBonnie.com. To find out more about Bonnie Jean Feldkamp and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.

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