RIP Bart Starr
May 26, 2019
We all know of Bart Starr’s prowess on the field both as a quarterback
and coach of the Green Bay Packers. But
he was also earned legend status off the field.
It was the fall of 1983.
Starr was entrenched in practice with the Packers when he received a
phone call that a special fan was near death. Starr paused practice and took a
personal time out to make a stranger's last days happier. That fan was my
father.
It was a quiet day in our hospice house when the phone rang.
A secretary informed me that Bart Starr wished to speak to Pastor Bartz. Pause.
Did she really say, Bart Starr? Thee Bart Starr of Green Bay Packer fame?
“Yes,” she replied with a smile in her voice.
I told her to give me a minute as I pondered the
consequences of waking him. You see, dad was dying of Leukemia at the ripe old
age of 58 and had stopped seeing people or taking phone calls the week before. He
was simply too fatigued and depressed.
Daddy was so sick, sleeping so deeply but, I mean, it was
Bart Starr on the phone. I shook my head in disbelief. As I weighed the options
and opted to see if there was any strength left in him for a one-on-one with
his idol, memories crept in to help me decide.
Daddy was well known in the area but he was not a celebrity
by any means. My father was a pastor
with a big church deep in Chicago Bears territory. Even with family members as
Bear fans, he never wavered in his loyalty for the Green Bay Packers. Admittingly,
at times it got to be a bit much as we had Packer paraphernalia all over the
house; cups, glasses, lamp shades, wobbly heads, stickers - even an autograph from Bart Starr hung on the
wall along with the posters of the Green Bay champions in Superbowl’s I and II.
He reminded Bear fans of these accomplishments daily – which didn’t help in
their lack of fondness for his team.
Daddy almost never made a game in Green Bay however as he
preached on Sunday, and it was hard for him to catch the bus to Soldiers Field
when the two rivals squared off in Chicago. You see, the sermon always came at
the end of the service and the church let out ten minutes after the bus left for
downtown. Achingly he would go home to watch the game on TV when it wasn’t
blacked out.
Of course, there was that one Sunday…
Before church began, I noticed the sermon was listed much
earlier in the service. When questioned, daddy stated he was merely trying something
new with the liturgy. Off he walked with an odd grin and I took my place in the
back pew. I knew something was fishy as he looked a bit bulky under his robes.
I was sure something was amiss when he finished the sermon and instead of
sitting down, he made a beeline for the church’s back exit leaving the
associate to finish the service. Suspicious, I ducked out to see what was going
on. There he was, booking across the parking lot straight towards the Chicago Bear
fan charter bus idling at the corner. As
he shed his robes en route to the open bus door I could see he was fully decked
out in his Green Bay garb. That explained
the bulk. Made it! Doors slammed shut and off they sped to make kickoff. I’m
sure some angels cheered him on even though my mother was aghast. She stayed in
the back row just shaking her head.
The memories’ chuckle brought me back to the present where I
realized I simply had to take the chance and wake dad. I mean, it was Bart
Starr…
“Phone call for you.”
He waved me off and turned his head to the wall. At least I tried.
“I’m sorry,” I said into the phone. “Could you please thank Mr
Starr for the call, but my dad is unable…” Dad’s eyes popped open.
“Bart Starr?” Dad whispered.
I nodded yes. He motioned for me to hand him the phone – NOW.
“Hold on, he just woke up!”
I could hear the transfer line go through giving me a few seconds to get
dad situated. Much to my surprise, he didn’t need any help. With the strength of
his almost former self daddy put on his glasses, drew himself up in his bed, and
snatched the phone from my hands as I propped pillows under his head.
“Well Hello, Mr. Starr!!” Boomed
the preachers' strong voice making me wonder if Mr. Starr thought we were exaggerating
the direness of his health.
They spoke for 15 minutes as if they were old friends catching
up on good times, talking about past games and victories over the Bears mostly.
Finally, I could see daddy’s energy draining as he graciously thanked him and put
down the phone.
I’m sure there were a thousand and one things the Bart Starr
could have been doing that sunny day in September instead of calling a nobody. That
selfless gesture, however, made a dying man 8 years old again with wide-eyed awe
that his hero thought he was important enough for a personal phone call. A deep
smile of appreciation remained on daddy’s face for days and I moved a GB wobbly
head on his nightstand that night, right next to the bible.
Today Bart Starr joined his sainted fans in heaven. Lombardi
was waiting for him I am sure, with daddy standing close by waiting his turn to
welcome him to his final stadium. Starr’s sporting feats will be on all the network
news stations remembering him as a great athlete - the only quarterback in NFL
history to lead a team to three consecutive league championships and to two victories
in the first two Super Bowls. But I’ll always remember him a little differently.
Thomas Carlyle once said: “A great man shows his greatness by the way he treats
little men.” Indeed. Bart Starr was a great man of kindness.
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