After reading the Class Act in chapter one, I realized that I have a very similar story. My father has been a teacher at the same high school in Dade county Florida for the past thirty-five years. In addition to teaching, he has been the offensive coordinator for the football team for all thirty-five of his years at the school. Last year my father stepped down as offensive coordinator when the head coach, and his best friend for the past thirty-five years retired, but he continues to teach both German and English at the same school
A retirement party was held for both my father and the head coach, where over three hundred people were in attendance. Many people were asked to speak about their experiences and relationships with the two coaches. While coaches, former coaches, teachers, players, ex-players, and family members took the stage to speak, I sat back and listened, and realized that my father had touched so many lives over the years. Men who are now professional football players had tears in their eyes as they expressed their gratitude towards my father with words like: "I never had a father figure in my life until I walked onto the football field next to you."… "You are the reason I am where I am at today."… " Coach, you really are a hero. It was one thing to open your heart to us, and another totally insane thing to open the doors of your home to us when we were poor and hungry high school football players. I thank god every day for you. (As he rubbed his stomach and grinned)" The compliments and stories continued for well over three hours as people who came from all around the country shared their memories. I can't even count the number of men who claim that my father is the reason they are still alive, or off the streets. My favorite comment however, came from a man who flew in from New York just for the occasion. He was short, sweet and honest when he said, "When I was a freshman in high school, I was a pot smoking hall-walker. When I was a sophomore in high school, I met Coach, and started playing football for him. He took me under his wing and I am now cleaned up, and a millionaire working on Wall Street. Thanks Coach."
When I was growing up, I knew how much my father cared about his players and how much time and effort he put into coaching them, but until I heard these stories, I never really realized how much he meant to his players. My house has always been like a train station, people continuously passing through. Coaches came over ever Sunday night to watch game films and eat dinner. Players would come for help on their homework, to get a meal because they couldn't afford one, to have a refuge from the streets, or just to watch a football game or play monopoly with my dad. My father has done so much for so many, and he will always be my hero, but I now know that not only is he my hero, he is a hero to many others as well.
-- Tess Anderson, Florida Atlantic University