And for Packwood, knowing that he had been picked on his merits, and not as a token white recruit, made the difference.

"That said I could come here and, ironically, be accepted for who I am," Packwood said. "I thought I made the right decision then, and I know I made the right decision now."

It was not as if this was the first time Packwood experienced life in the minority. He was among the few white students in his class at Grandview Senior High School in Kansas City, Mo. He has mixed-race siblings and his mother was married to a black man. Packwood's experiences growing up have helped him navigate black culture while remaining comfortable with his own complexion.

Packwood's mere presence on campus wouldn't make history at this school founded by a black minister and cabinetmaker two years after the end of the Civil War. Howard Zehr, Morehouse's first white student, graduated in 1966, and there have been dozens of other whites on campus since.

And so Packwood turned down Columbia University, postponing his dream of living in New York City. He ignored some in his family who warned that he might not have the same opportunities he would have as a Columbia graduate, and headed South.

Packwood still laughs when he remembers his first day on campus, wandering the grounds in pajama pants and getting stares from black classmates who wondered if the freshman wasn't a wayward student from Georgia Tech, Georgia State or perhaps Emory University.

After convincing the photographer to take his student ID, Packwood headed to his room in Brazeal Hall. Shortly after, his roommate arrived with his mother. Four years later, Packwood still can't get over the irony: After years of being one of a few blacks at majority-white schools in Dallas, Phillip Smithey had come to Morehouse to get the "black experience."

Instead, he was sharing a room with the only white guy in his class.

___

When he came to Morehouse, Packwood was sweating a bit under his swagger, which is why he was reluctant to run for president of his dorm at the end of his freshman year. The novelty was wearing off, but Packwood didn't want his new friends to think he was the white guy trying to "act black" or take over their school.

Classes proved to be a challenge socially and academically when the discussions shifted to issues of race. Once, Packwood was asked to sit on a panel about interracial relationships. Though he had dated black girls since high school, he spent the first hour of the panel getting warmed up, feeling out the crowd and trying to couch his thoughts.

"It was kind of heated, and there were very strong views on both sides," he said. "But eventually I realized they put me on the panel not to just pander to the crowd, but to voice my opinion."

Packwood said such exchanges taught him a lesson.

"Sometimes I kind of wanted to hold back," he acknowledged. "A lot of the professors and students have been like, 'No, don't hold back. We want your perspective here. If we're not going to get it from you, it's going to be very difficult for us to get it somewhere else.'"

Both students and faculty, he said, seemed to appreciate his honesty.