The Ultimate Respect

It was an ordinary college football game, as games go. The East Carolina defensive end battled the Marshall University blocking back most of the night. The battle was fierce and violent at times. At one point the Marshall blocking back used the patented Marshall signature move; a forearm to the purple helmet of his opponent, “ringing the bell” of his adversary and cracking his helmet in such a way that it had to be replaced before the next play.

The game continued as did the battle inside the war on the field, not noticeable to the average fan but very apparent to the players on the field. There was blood, and there were bruises and even blurry vision from the concussions each inflicted upon the other. There was taunting, as you always get in a close battle, and the old “trash talk” by each player. Yet, with the heat of battle on the field, came deep respect for each other’s talents.

As the game ended with controversy East Carolina prevailed 17-14 and the players prepared for return to their respective Universities. It was upon his return to campus that the East Carolina player heard the news. The Marshall DC-9 had not made it home. It crashed on a hillside just short of the runway on a rainy night in West Virginia. The entire team, coaches, and boosters lost their lives. A sadness came over the ECU player that he had never felt before, but he moved on with his life.

The blocking back was a talented athlete, considered the premier running back in the East and recruited by every major university, and destined for NFL. The defensive end was an Ocean City, Maryland lifeguard who entered East Carolina University to get a good education and maybe play some football; a game he loved. The East Carolina end was headed for a career with NASA Shuttle Operations in Florida where he remains today.

That could be the end of the story about how people move on after a tragedy in their life, but it’s not the end.

The career at NASA was exciting. Launch after launch kept his attention; except for the times each day that he thought about that November day in 1970. He thought about his opponent, about his opponent’s family, and wondered how they fared in the face of tragedy. Something kept drawing him north to Huntington, West Virginia, the home of Marshall University.

Then one day he packed some things and decided to head up to Marshall. As he opened his door to leave, he grabbed his game-damaged helmet.

It was now 30 years later, but the memories were fresh. As he arrived on the Marshall campus there were reminders of that day in 1970 everywhere.

As a true football player would do, he headed toward the stadium and as he approached the entrance, he saw the new bronze sculpture dedicated to the memory of those who lost their lives in 1970. The sculpture stood out from the wall and seemed so real. At the foot of the wall were many flowers and remembrances from fans and relatives. He read a few notes and wrote one of his own and attached it to his helmet. He placed his helmet at the foot of the bronze sculpture as he remembered his encounter that day. He said a prayer for those that were lost and returned home to Florida.

The Marshall player whom I describe here was my friend and teammate Art Harris # 22. Art was one of 75 people that were lost that day; including Art’s dad who was his biggest fan. The East Carolina player is Mike McGuirk #31.

Mike wrote to me in 2006 wanting to know more about his opponent that day, more about his family and his high school days back in NJ. I filled Mike in on the details and have kept in contact with him by e-mail.

I would like to think that this friendship with Mike has risen from the ashes of tragedy and proven what I’ve known for years; those of us who experienced this tragedy at any level are ALL ONE HEART.

Mike’s story touched me when I heard it and I consider what he did to be the Ultimate Respect paid to his worthy opponent and his opponent's teammates.

WE ARE MARSHALL WE ARE ALL ONE HEART