He's friends to Indy's biggest stars. Behind Amp Harris' infectious smile is a pain that drives him to impact community

INDIANAPOLIS – Two Big Macs, a large fry and a large strawberry shake. That was Reggie Miller’s order from the McDonald's on 38th and Illinois.

On the nights when a young Miller would go out during his first few years in Indiana, local promoter Anthony “Amp” Harris drove the Pacers legend in a Isuzu I-Mark to the fast food chain at 3 a.m.

“His long ass legs in a little bitty ass car,” Harris said with a laugh. “I would ask him, ‘What the heck are you eating that crap for?”

“I gotta gain weight,” Miller responded.

Miller didn’t go out often. But he went out with Amp. 

Stars trusted Amp. 

Stars trust Amp. 

In addition to promoting and curating community affairs like the 2025 Indiana Black Expo, Amp is a consultant to professional athletes, entertainers and corporations. Under his company Amp Harris Productions, Amp has planned events for Miller, Michael Jordan, former NBA MVP Allen Iverson, Shaquille O’Neal, Colts legends Reggie Wayne and Edgerrin James and more accomplished athletes.

Actors Kevin Hart and Michael B. Jordan played in Amp’s All-Star basketball game. He brought the first Martin Lawrence comedy stand-up to Indianapolis and coordinated the deal that made comedian Mike Epps the ambassador for the 2012 Super Bowl in Indianapolis. Amp and Epps grew up together on College Avenue and 30th Street.

“From Day 1, Amp gave you that vibe that you weren’t a star athlete,” Wayne told IndyStar about why it was easy to befriend Amp. “You were just another person and he always treated us that way.”

The celebrity events, sitting courtside at the NBA Finals with Wayne, laughing with Tyrese Haliburton on the field at Lucas Oil Stadium and the many other encounters with the “crème de la crème” of sport and entertainment don’t define Amp.

Beneath the success is a man whose trauma made him realize the importance of connecting with others and using those relationships to serve.

‘One thing about tragedy is that it either eats you or you eat it’

Warning: Content below may be graphic for some

By 21, Amp had made a name for himself through DJing. Amp grew up playing drums in church and his older brother’s band rehearsed in their apartment growing up. 

At 13, Amp began to gravitate toward records and started to explore DJing. He went on a summer trip to New York, where he studied the city's famous DJs and musicians, including Kool DJ Red Alert, Grandmaster Flash and Busy Bee Starski. 

Upon returning to Indiana, he began working with Indianapolis-based DJ Tony Lamont, carrying record crates and doing planning for Lamont’s production company.

“I was overwhelmed by that little needle making music come out of that round thing,” Amp said. 

At 13, Amp found one of his greatest loves but also experienced his greatest loss.

A 58-year-old Amp still remembers the smoke. He can see the pieces of his brother’s brain splattered on the wall inside his Indianapolis home. Amp’s stepfather had shot his older brother in front of him and his mother, Geneva. 

“Everything that Amp is, that moment is the reason why,” Amp said. “One thing about tragedy is that it either eats you or you eat it. If it wasn’t for my mother’s Christian faith that she instilled me, I wouldn’t have made it through.”

Not much in the business can make Amp happy. Nothing in it can bring him joy. As he grew older, it was hard for Amp to understand why success didn’t matter. 

By 15, Amp was working with local DJ Thomas Griffin and doing parties in over-21 clubs. The following year, Amp would finish high school basketball practice at Decatur Central and, as a member of the busing program, travel 45 minutes back to Indianapolis to DJ at night. 

Griffin, who Amp views as a mentor alongside Lamont, said he saw a “very observant” teenager with “a lot of personality” in Amp. When Amp was 16, Griffin began calling his production company “Amp Harrris and the Network” because of his mentee’s ability to connect with the youth.

Amp elected not to enroll in college, a decision to which Geneva, who was raised in the Jim Crow South, didn’t comprehend. But Amp had a vision.

At 19, Amp founded his own production company and was hosting parties with headliners including Big Daddy Kane, Whodini and Chub Rock that drew 2,000 people. By 21, basketball stars O’Neal and Jordan were asking Amp to throw their parties. 

From there, Amp joined radio and became a host at WTLC Hot 96 at 25. In recent years, Amp learned why success never characterized him.

“I’ve seen death,” Amp said. 

“There aren’t too many things that get me excited, but psychologically, what’s the worst thing that could happen. I get excited watching people who come to my events say they have a good time. The success doesn’t excite me because I’ve seen it at all, coming from where I’ve come from and what I’ve had to fight through.”

Amp recognized early in his career that building genuine relationships would create the opportunity for impact in Indianapolis. One night in 1984, after the Pacers played the Bulls, a rookie Jordan visited the Piccadilly Club in Indianapolis. Lamont and Griffin were the leading DJs, and Amp was assisting them. 

Before the club closed, Amp was playing pool with Jordan.

“By the end of the night, Amp and MJ are best buddies,” Griffin said. 

Amp added: “I was a young kid teaching myself, but I knew the most important thing in this business was going to be relationships and how to maintain those relationships. The first rule of thumb is not how much money you have or how smart you are, but instead the kind of relationships you have. We all have a responsibility, no matter our position; it’s not how much access you have, but what you do with the access.”

Amp began the Amp Harris Foundation in 1999. Through his foundation, Amp hosts an annual toy drive on the track at the Indianapolis Motor Speedway. He gifted 500 tickets to the 2024 NBA All-Star game to kids in Indianapolis. Other community engagement events include a mental health symposium at a local high school, where he selected former Pacer Metta World Peace to speak.

Amp’s partnerships have undoubtedly impacted the community, but his friendship has also impacted those he partners with. 

Reggie Wayne and Edgerrin James lean on Amp Harris throughout Colts careers

Edgerrin James kept his guard up. 

James was born and raised in Immokalee, Fla., a town he called a “melting pot” with less than 25,000 people. When the Colts drafted him with the fourth pick in the 1999 NFL draft, James didn’t know how a majority-white Indianapolis would receive a 6-0 Black man with dreads and gold teeth. 

“I keep to my circle and surroundings, but Amp would bridge the gap between myself and others I probably wouldn’t communicate with, even from a business side. Amp would make it make sense,” James told IndyStar. “He’s a buffer system that would say, ‘These people are good for you, and he’s usually spot on.’ He’s full of information and is a true connector. Sometimes he sees things in you that you don’t see in yourself, and that’s good when you have to walk around with this guard as an athlete.”

Added Wayne: ”A lot of times, guys use your stardom to get things accomplished, but Amp was never like that. He always wanted us to make sure our brand stayed clean and get us around the right people.”

The Colts drafted Wayne in 2001. The three-time All-Pro helped lead Indianapolis to the 2007 Super Bowl championship. James introduced Wayne to Amp when the former Miami product arrived in Indianapolis. 

Wayne used to call Amp and ask him questions about the city and business-related ventures. Wayne credited Amp for teaching him the whereabouts of Indianapolis when he became a Colt. After experiencing Amp’s influence in the city, Wayne started calling him the “Mayor” before transitioning to the “Governor.”

“He just doesn’t know, but he’s a politician. But a good one,” Wayne told IndyStar. “He knows how to navigate and read people. It’s to the point where I’m like, ‘Hey, I saw you were at such and such. Why didn’t you let me know?”

“I know you ain’t gon like that,” Amp would respond.

“Well, how do you know?” asked Wayne. 

“Because I know you,” Amp retorted. 

“I’m like man, ‘You not married to me, you don’t know me man,’ but he just has this ability to read people,” Wayne said. “If he were an X-Men, he’d be Xavier.”

What started as business with James and Wayne turned into a brotherhood. Throughout James’ time in Indy, it was common for Amp to go to James’ house or vice versa and for Amp to attend James’ family functions. Today, James doesn’t come to Indianapolis without connecting with Amp. 

Wayne and Amp frequently sat courtside together during the Pacers' playoff run to the Finals this season. Wayne and Amp are fans of different Pacers players, and their postseason debates turned into trash talk about which players they believe should’ve gotten more playing time. 

“I play devil's advocate on purpose just to get him railed up,” Wayne said with a laugh. “I told him that the cameras were going to catch us, and people were going to think we were fighting.” 

Both Wayne and James respect Amp for never asking for money since they met. James acknowledged that some may have an “ulterior motive” when building friendships with star athletes like himself. Not Amp

“He never used us in any way,” Wayne said.

Added James: “When it’s genuine, when you're talking about a real friend, that’s what Amp and I’s relationship is,” James said. “That’s a forever friend and family member. If I don’t talk to Amp for three weeks, we pick up like it was yesterday."

Though it appears easy, maintaining relationships isn’t natural for the self-proclaimed introvert. Amp's best work is produced at 3 a.m. when no one is calling him. He‘s recharged by outdoor walks. He has set up concerts with 5,000 people where he’s sitting in the back. 

“One of my guys used to work the door for me at events, and people would say to him, ‘Amp, why are you charging me all the time?’ Amp said. 

He pauses and lets the question sink in. He then laughs before switching to third person to answer it himself. 

“That’s not Amp. He’s in the back,” he said. 

Amp's preserved personality isn’t new. When he first started DJing, Amp was terrified of people looking at him, so he ducked his head under the record table when he spoke on the mic. 

But Amp recognizes that personal preference to operate behind the scenes won’t always contribute to his call to serve.

After scrolling through his camera roll, chronicling stories behind hundreds of pictures that include the likes of NFL legend Jim Brown and four-time NBA champion Stephen Curry, Amp stopped at a photo of smiling kids at a local Boys and Girls Club. 

“This is why I do it,” Amp said as he looked at the kids in the picture. “What are people going to say when you’re done? You’re a great entertainer, you’re a great athlete? That’s your job, not who you are.” 

Amp enjoys the opportunities his work provides, in particular “connecting the dots and being a voice for the voiceless.” However, he admitted he doesn’t know how long he will continue.

Amp’s grandest achievement is his daughter 

Amp sits at a blue and white table at Binkley’s Kitchen and Bar in Indianapolis. In front of him rests a glass of water with a “whole bunch of lemons, no ice.” That’s his first request at most restaurants. 

It’s about halfway through his two-hour conversation, and Amp sets down the fork he’s using to eat his strawberry chicken salad. As fans spin to cool down the outside seating area, Amp reveals a friend recently asked him where he wanted to be in the next five years.

“I want to be equal to where I am at now or better,” Amp told his friend.

“That ain’t an answer,” his friend said in frustration.

He wanted Amp to provide a dollar amount, a dream event or a materialistic possession. If Amp never plans another event, he’s content. 

You say you want to be equal to where you are now. Where are you now, Amp?

“At peace,” he said. 

Amp’s peace and joy are found in watching his daughter Rachel excel.

Rachel is a senior marketing major at Howard and hopes to attend Georgetown in fall 2026 to pursue a Master’s in business administration. She’s an aspiring sports and entertainment executive.

“Everything I did before my daughter was self-absorbed. The day she was born, I no longer lived for myself. I lived for her," Amp said. "And that’s why I don’t let this business get to me. When you are intentional about who you are and not what you do, what you do becomes secondary."

Rachel said, “A lot of what I want to do is because of him,” and applauded her dad for always emphasizing the importance of building relationships, a skill she applies in college and career pursuits.

”I’m blessed to have a father whom I can look up to not only as a dad but as a role model. He’s able to talk to any person from any background. My dad is a great father because he’s a friend to everyone,” Rachel said. “He’s thankful for what life has taught him and everything he has had to face. So, I think it’s a no-brainer for him to think about other people and give back.

“His tendency is to always give back to where he came from because I don’t think he’ll ever forget that part of himself that went through hardship.”

Amp won’t forget. 

“If you asked me 10 years ago how I feel about what happened when I was 13, I would’ve cried. I may not cry now, but I haven’t fully healed. You never do because I can still see it,” Amp said. “But, finally, I’m OK with it.”

This article originally appeared on Indianapolis Star: Meet Amp Harris: The promoter Reggie Wayne calls ‘Governor’ of Indiana