Last Thursday evening, I took Haleigh on a trip to Harding University in Searcy, Arkansas. She and I had never taken a trip together before.
Her sister, Abby, and I have (one of the few things Abby experienced before Haleigh.) A few years ago, I took Abby to Houston, to NASA, for a workshop for Homeschool kids.
Haleigh was going primarily to try out for Harding’s volleyball team on Friday afternoon. Haleigh was going to stay with Kelli Mott, one of our Shiloh Road graduates, in one of the girls’ dorms. We arrived so late on Thursday night that Haleigh missed the dorm curfew. She had to stay with me at the local Hampton Inn.
Friday morning, I dropped Haleigh off at the dorm, and with the exception of taking her to the tryout, saw very little of her. She attended some of Kelli’s classes and met some of Kelli’s friends.
On the way up, I told Haleigh that one of my parents’ strengths was to never be overbearing. I can only remember them visiting me at college a handful of times, but each time they did, they made sure to give me space and not make me feel I had to entertain them every moment of the weekend. (Franklin Roosevelt’s mom moved into an apartment with him at Harvard. Egad!) I told Haleigh I want to do the same for my kids.
Friday, I met with someone from the financial aid office, dropped by and visited my old Argentina teammate, Bill Richardson, and I checked out the Harding campus. (It had been eleven years since I had been there.)
Friday night, one of Kelli’s roommates managed to scrounge up a ticket for Haleigh to join several of them for a performance of the musical THROROUGHLY MODERN MILLIE. I know this will sound sad for some of you, but I arrived at my hotel room Friday evening, at six o’clock, and never left the room. For me, it was actually bliss. Living in a family of six, I cannot remember the last time I had so much time to myself in peace and quiet.
I had stuck into the Suburban a couple of sacks of books I picked up at the Doctors’ wives’ book sale on Thursday. I spent the entire evening working through the sacks. I had so much fun—I never turned the TV on. I went to sleep about eleven and got me a good night’s sleep.
We left for home on Saturday morning. On the way back, we stopped in Little Rock at the Bill Clinton Presidential Museum.
In Friday’s tryout, Haleigh had sprained her ankle during a volleyball game with other high school students and the Harding volleyball team, but she did not tell anyone until she told me on Saturday morning. I asked her if she would rather drive on home, but she said she would rather tour the museums. This is the first president Haleigh can remember, so she wanted to see the exhibits. She put on her boots and toughed it out.
(That night, Judy about pinched my ears off when she saw Haleigh’s ankle; it had swollen to the size of an orange. Don’t tell her basketball coach about this.)
While in Little Rock, Haleigh and I had lunch at a classy restaurant. Then it was back on the road.
Haleigh and I had a total of twelve hours in the Suburban together. We talked a lot, listened to a lot of music, she slept some, and we listened to Drew Brees' new book on CD. (Her choice—I had brought it to listen to when she was asleep.)
I felt interesting emotions Friday on the Harding campus. Even though it has been thirty years since I was an undergraduate, I can still remember those days clearly. Now I am watching my oldest preparing to launch the second phase of her life. This seems real, and this seems right.
Driving home, a voice in my mind put words to my feelings. For a long time, I have been thinking about Haleigh launching into a new phase of her life. Saturday evening, that voice told me I was launching into a new phase as well.
The Luckiest Man on Earth
Incidentally, on the aforementioned Friday evening, I had a chance to read from my recently purchased copy of Luckiest Man: The Life and Death of Lou Gehrig by Jonathan Eig. I had always heard about the famous speech Gehrig made as a dying man, “Today, I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of this Earth…” I had never read the extensive context to that story.
Gehrig began the 1939 season playing horribly. Everyone noticed this in spring training. Gehrig himself thought he would play himself out of it. Instead, he grew worse.
A few games into the season, Gehrig made a routine play at first to make the third out of an inning. When he arrived at the bench, several players congratulated him for his play.
That night, Gehrig grew more and more disturbed. Had it come to this? Had his quality of play fallen so low that his teammates felt compelled to compliment him so profusely for a normal play?
The next morning, Gehrig approached his manager, Joe McCartney, and asked to remain on the bench, “for the good of the team.”
That afternoon, Lou Gehrig missed his first ballgame since 1925. The story was national news.
Of course, as you know, Gehrig traveled a few days later to the Mayo Clinic, where he was diagnosed with the disease that would later bear his name. The New York Yankees organized a special day honoring him. The ceremony took place between games of a doubleheader with the Washington Senators.
The Yankees brought in old teammates including Babe Ruth. Gifts were showered upon Gehrig, including one from the archrival, New York Giants.
Finally, all the speeches were made and the throng that filled Yankee stadium began calling upon Gehrig to speak. But he was too overcome. Overwhelmed by kindness, Gehrig stood to the side, weeping.
After it became obvious Gehrig was unable to respond, workers began to dismantle the microphones at home plate. Then Joe McCarthy walked over to Gehrig. Whispering in his ear, the manager gently coaxed him to say a few words.
That was when Gehrig strode to the microphones, and, head down, uttered these words, “Fans, for the past two weeks you have been reading about the bad break I got. Yet today I consider myself the luckiest man on the face of this earth.” What I did not realize was that he went on to offer a brief, gracious speech, thanking various groups and individuals, before saying his final words, “So I close in saying that I may have had a tough break, but I have an awful lot to live for.”
I’ve got to tell you, I was crying reading this account. You talk about feeling silly. Here I am, in a hotel room, reading about something that occurred over seventy years ago, and I am crying like it is happening in real time! (Who knows, maybe my emotion was a “Freudian” response to Haleigh’s visit at Harding.)
Good stuff from Jonathon Eig.
Five Things I Think I Think (with a nod to Peter King for this idea)
1. Here’s what I want for Christmas: a TCU vs. Oregon matchup for the National Championship—an awesome defense versus an incredible offense.
2. I am happy with the Ranger season, but I can’t get out of my mind what happened to the Mavs. They came so close to defeating the Heat. They’ve never been back to the Finals again.
3. Haleigh and I have listened to almost four CDs of Drew Brees’ new book, COMING BACK STRONGER. So far, we have both been struck by Brees’ faith in God. Neither of us knew his faith was as extensive as it is. Tyndale House, which published the book, is a religious publishing company. This is a religious book.
It is also inspiring. He has faced much adversity. I was glad Haleigh got to listen to it before she arrived to her tryout. I think it put her in a good and realistic frame of mind.
We cannot wait to finish the book.
4. I think it is naïve to believe we will ever have bipartisanship in our Federal government. And this may be a good thing.
5. I tried something called Ethiopian coffee last Saturday. I found it to have a decent taste with no coffee bitterness. Not bad.
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