In my earliest 'brush with fame' — i was about 11, and a family friend knew Walter Davis from Cooney's Delaware High School. When Davis played with the Suns, and visited the 76ers in Philly, we'd get seats right behind the Suns bench. After the game, we'd go back to the locker room exit area, and wait for players, so i could get autographs.
When Dawkins came out, he was wearing a huge fur coat, and carrying a massive boombox. I asked for an autograph, and he smiled a big smile, and very gently and politely said he'd be happy to. He asked me to hold his 'radio,' and began to hand it to him so that he could sign his name on my pad. My father, though, sensing impending tragedy, intercepted the way-too-big-for-me-to-hold piece of electronic kit, saying, "maybe you'd better let me take that."
He was happy to interact with fans. Giant dude, with a sweet, gentle heart. RIP.
[Dr. J (that bastid) never came out. Ever...]