Conservative commentator Cal Thomas
Booze and the Salukis do not mix
December 8, 2016 By Leave a Comment
Steve Dunford-FranklinCounty-News.com
Southern Illinois University athletic director Tommy Bell made the announcement today, that alcoholic beverages would be sold at SIU sporting events, as well as concerts. His main reason was additional revenue into the Saluki program.
I remember going with a school trip to McAndrew stadium when I was probably in the sixth or seventh grade. It was back when alcohol was sold at sporting events. There were several in the student section that became wasted. After halftime, they began to throw beer on everyone in the student section.
The Salukis quit selling beer at sporting events soon after Rich Herrin resurrected the Men’s Basketball program in the mid 1980’s. This is not an exact quote, but I remember him saying he does not want his players playing, or coaching in a tavern. When the contract lapsed with the beer company, they did not renew it
I did not realize there was a statewide ban on selling alcohol at sporting events on Illinois campuses soon after Coach Herrin’s statement. There was a bill 
that passed the Illinois Senate unanimously in the spring session of the General Assembly. Governor Bruce Rauner shortly signed the bill into law allowing alcohol on university campuses.
Southern’s reputation of being a party school has improved. A couple decades ago, SIU always was in the top ten in the nation of party schools when surveyed. According to the website niche.com, they are ranked sixth in the entire state.
Since Halloween has been re-instituted, there have been some shady things happen on the strip. This is in the heart of football season. Adding alcohol sales would add fuel to the fire in the middle of the “festivities.”
During Football, there is a lot of tailgating going on at Saluki Row. There is ample opportunity to enjoy an adult beverage or several outside the stadium.
It has improved over the years, but SIU sporting events are tough to get out of the parking lots. There are a lot of fender benders. It would increase with people leaving tipsy.
In addition, there are a lot of local watering holes in a short distance of SIU Arena and Saluki stadium. The Dawg Pound would be much rowdier at basketball games.
I am not trying to be Holier than Thou, but I do not drink. However, I understand that people would enjoy an adult beverage during games. This is a done deal. Guidelines are going to be established for serving. I say there needs to be a cutoff similar to the seventh inning stretch of baseball games. I propose that is should be sometime in the third quarter at football games, and at the 12 minute TV timeout during basketball.
In Tommy Bell’s statement, he referred to Ohio State selling alcohol has increased revenue for the athletic program. Ohio State has joined Big Ten schools Maryland and Minnesota selling beer according to the website saturdaydownsouth.com. The U of I is establishing guidelines in case they start selling beer in the future.
I studied the map on this website. In the other major conferences, there is not alcohol served at any SEC venue. The only ones in the ACC are Syracuse and Louisville.
This is how I feel about the issue, booze and the Salukis do not mix. Agree or disagree, I hope it brought some thoughts of discussion to the table.
Steve Dunford is a guest columnist for FranklinCounty-News.com. He is a 1993 graduate of Southern Illinois University.
Post season football — it’s not always about the game
October 25, 2016 By Leave a Comment
The Sesser-Valier-Waltonville-Woodlawn Devils will be a huge underdog when they travel to Mount Carmel on Saturday to take on the undefeated Golden Aces. But, after 25 years of broadcasting and a lifetime of following high school sports, let me point out that this game is not about … well … it’s not about ‘just this game.’
Certainly, everybody wants to win and move on but I have always been a big believer that Saturday afternoon football in Week No. 10 and beyond is about much more than the team with the most points at the end of the fourth quarter. It’s about the ‘experience.’
Let me explain.
For SVWW, this matchup on Saturday is about weight-lifting and conditioning last winter. It’s about getting up before daylight and the sold-out, above the line commitment to a program, your coaches and teammates. It’s about football camps and 7-on-7 scrimmages on hot summer weekends. It’s about two-a-day (and maybe three-a-day) practices on sweltering hot and humid August days. It’s about the anticipation of week one. It’s about Friday night lights and the weekly grind and routine of a nine-week football season. It’s about rebounding mentally from a tough loss. It’s about counting, recounting and then counting again the number of playoff points your favorite team has. It’s about knocking off a very good Carmi-White County team in week nine to get that fifth win. It’s about setting a goal to make the playoffs and then reaching it. It’s about scratching and clawing for that coveted fifth win and then feeling the joy of knowing that you will have more practices, more game prep, and more time with your teammates and most important — you will play one more game. It’s about preparing for an opponent while more than 300 other teams are looking ahead to wrestling and basketball. It’s about a team breakfast on Saturday morning – Game Day — with guys that you love and respect and would go to the gravel for. It’s about a long bus ride with your teammates on a glorious fall day. It’s about playing against one of the storied football programs in Illinois. It’s about playing at “The Pit” – a one-of-a-kind facility that will give you ‘goose-bumps’ when you see it for the first time. It’s about embracing every moment, every smell, every visual effect, and every noise of the game, the experience. It’s about memories – not any old memory that will fade away but lifetime memories that will still be vivid decades and decades from now.
Yes, there’s a football game Saturday when SVWW will be the little guy in a David vs. Goliath match up. I’ve said it for years, the game is super important … but it pales in comparison to the experience.
Enjoy. Every. Second.
A parent’s guide to surviving the first day of kindergarten
August 10, 2016 By Leave a Comment
(Editor’s Note: I wrote this column prior to the start of the 2005-06 school year and it deals with the anxiety that goes along with sending a child off to school for the first time. I have not changed any dates or ages in the column. Interestingly, the kindergarten students I wrote about in this column will be entering their junior year of high school this month. I hope you enjoy!) JM
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During the next few days kindergarteners across the nation — the Class of 2018 — will head off to school for the very first time.
Today’s offering might be considered a survival guide, not for the happy-go-lucky students, but for the nervous, anxiety-ridden parents.
A few years ago I was given the assignment to go to a local grade school and try to capture a story about the first day of school for incoming kindergarten students. So, with camera and notebook in hand I trudged off. Let me describe the scene.
As I walked down the hallway that housed the three kindergarten classes I couldn’t help but notice how almost everybody I passed had a somewhat dazed look in their eyes. Some were walking slowly as if they were unsure about their next step. Others were walking unsteadily, staying close to the outside walls like they were searching for some type of security. Some had a stunned look on their face as if they had just been given some bad news and a few even had tears in their eyes. One or two couldn’t control their emotions and were bawling uncontrollably.
Of course, I should explain that what I just described were the poor parents who were tackling for the first time the 13-year adventure known as the public school system. As far as the first-year students were concerned, they seemed oblivious to their nervous-wracked parents and were doing just fine.
Speaking from experience, many young parents who are sending their first child off to school in the coming days are in for a real life lesson. First, they will learn, perhaps for the first time that their child is not perfect and in fact might not be the smartest, brightest, funniest, most creative, athletic kid in the class. For some parents this will cause great alarm.
I recall 20 years ago when my oldest daughter Lyndsay headed off to kindergarten. She was, in my estimation, brilliant. She could read, she could write, she knew all of her numbers. So, imagine my alarm when on about the second day of school her teacher sent home a note saying that she couldn’t tell time. My first reaction was horror. How could that mean teacher say that about my intelligent, perfect daughter? After reading the note, in my mind her school career was ruined. It was my first recollection that my children are not perfect. Somehow though, we managed to get through the traumatic ordeal and she made it through the next 12 years with flying colors and even learned how to tell time.
Of course, I also quickly realized that there was a reason she couldn’t tell time — every clock in the house was digital and she had no idea what the hands on a clock meant.
Despite the fact that it has been two decades ago I can still remember the worry attached to sending a child off to public school for the first time. How will they react when I’m not around? Will they get along with others? Will they be accepted by the other students? And the list of worrisome questions goes on and on. As much as I hate to admit it, I even drove by the school during those first few days to see if I could get a glimpse of her on the playground. While some people might not understand that mentality, there are many people this very week that will know that feeling well and will be asking themselves those same questions.
And of course there will be memories forged by the Class of 2018 that will last forever.
My wife Lisa still tells the story about the way her son reacted to a teacher’s question when he was in kindergarten. When asked by the teacher what his middle name was, Josh thought for a second and said “oo-wah.” The teacher asked him if he was sure his middle name was “oo-wah.”
“My name is Joshua (Josh-oo-wah) so my middle name must be “oo-wah,” he told her.
Despite the fact that Josh is 24 years old his mother still occasionally refers to him by his kindergarten middle name — ‘oo-wah.’
As a word of encouragement to all the rookies that will be sending kids to school for the first time this year, trust me when I tell you that it will get easier. In fact, in a few years when you become summer activity director/taxi driver/ATM machine for your child you will look forward with excitement to the start of another school year.
I’m certain the Class of 2018 will do just fine as they embark on their educational journey. We’re counting on them; they’re our future. As far as the poor parents, just make sure your perfect child can tell time and also that they know their middle name.
And oh, one more thing; if a kindergarten-induced anxiety attack hits you; it’s perfectly all right to drive by the school once in a while.
From a tragic death … life and hope spring forth
July 26, 2016 By Leave a Comment
(Editor’s Note: This column was written about the death of John Boyd of Benton, who died on July 26, 2004. Today marks the 12th anniversary of his death and this column, I believe, shows that sometimes good and positive results can spring forth from a tragedy. JM)
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It’s often said that the greatest grief that any person can experience is the death of a child. On a hot and humid day last week I sat face-to-face with that grief.
Loren and Cheryl Boyd agreed to talk with me about the death of their 20-year-old son John, who attempted suicide on July 17 and then spent eight days on life support in a St. Louis hospital before dying on July 26. The pain of the death and the toll of those eight days showed in the Boyd’s faces as we sat in the front yard of their Benton home.
Before I move ahead it’s important that I fill in a few blanks about John. Even a casual news observer has probably heard of Boyd who had his name splashed across Southern Illinois news media outlets when he was accused of entering a storage facility at the Franklin County Jail and stealing 7-8 pounds of marijuana that had been seized by COMIT agents during a drug bust in Hamilton County in September 2002.
After more than 20 months winding through the Franklin County Court system Boyd entered a negotiated guilty plea to a single count of unlawful possession of marijuana. In exchange for the guilty plea one count of burglary and one count of theft – the now infamous Franklin County Jail marijuana burglary and theft — were dismissed.
During my conversation with Loren and Cheryl they didn’t mince words when talking about the troubles that John encountered during his life. They admitted that he once stole a four-wheeler, had spent time in jail and ran with a rough crowd.
However, the Boyd’s don’t believe John stole the marijuana from the Franklin County Jail and neither do most people who followed the case. But, that really doesn’t matter now because that sordid little piece of Franklin County history died when John did.
During an hour-long conversation the Boyd’s were much more focused on talking about the good things he did that went unnoticed.
Cheryl talked about a penchant her son had for donating blood and said he often wanted to give to those less fortunate.
“He was always concerned about people who were disabled or poor,” Cheryl said. “He loved taking the meals at Thanksgiving to people that couldn’t get out and he loved delivering Christmas baskets to the needy.”
She related that John once gave away a $130 pair of tennis shoes to a classmate that was poor and also gave away a leather coat to a high school classmate.
“Those are things that nobody ever knew about John,” she said.
Loren recalled two vacations, one in New Orleans and one in Chicago, where John witnessed panhandlers for the first time.
“You had to carry his money or he would give it all away,” his dad recalled. “If somebody looked like they needed money he’d give them all he had. Even when he was in jail there was an old guy in there that didn’t have any family and John would tell us to put money on his ‘book’ with the jailers so he could buy snacks and soda.”
There will be those who will choose to remember John by recalling a troubled life that quickly spiraled downward after he was accused of stealing marijuana from the county jail. Others might remember him because of a few scrapes with the law or the crowd that he ran with.
However, when I think of him I’m going to think about a story his parents related to me, a story that portrayed a far different person than the one pictured in the media.
Ever since he was a child John was interested in organ donation and as soon as he was old enough, he signed up to be a donor. During the eight long days that Loren and Cheryl spent helplessly watching their son’s life ebb away they were also making plans to see that his desire was fulfilled and that his organs were fully harvested.
Because of John a 50-year-old man woke up in St. Louis today with a new lease on life. In critical condition and with less than a week to live he received John’s liver. Perhaps that nameless, faceless man is enjoying a sunrise this morning or making plans to spend the day with his grandkids or just simply go for a leisurely walk. Two people in Nebraska each received a kidney and dialysis will now no longer be a part of their weekly life. Every major organ, his tissue and even the bones of his arms and legs were harvested and will provide help to scores of people. Despite the troubles in his life, in the end John helped an untold number of people in need.
Before taking his life John wrote a letter addressed to his parents and girlfriend – a letter his parents shared with me. Repeatedly saying he was sorry for the times he messed up in his life there was one particular sentence that yanked at my heart. It read: “I loved you all more than you think or will ever know but my mind was just too much for me to handle.”
There have been many times in my life, and my conversation with the Boyd’s was one of them, when I’ve thought about the afterlife and wondered about people like John that chose to take their own life. There are those who tell us that we must walk a straight and narrow path in order to reap the rewards of the hereafter and that committing suicide is not part of that path. But, on the other hand I think of God as loving and compassionate and always fair.
I’m certain many theologians will disagree but I want to believe that maybe, just maybe, there’s a place of rest set aside for all the ‘Johns’ of the world – all those that have too much on their mind to handle and who struggle and battle but eventually lose to the daily demons they fight.
I hope I’m right.
Another election year … another coal bill
May 12, 2016 By Leave a Comment
There is an old adage that states: ‘Fool me once, shame on you … fool me twice, shame on me.’
That sage piece of advice crossed my mind when I read a story this week that Illinois lawmakers are proposing what is being labeled as “an innovative investment plan for Illinois’ coal industry.’
The story related that the bill was introduced by Democratic lawmakers exactly six months prior to the general election.
The story had only one voice detailing the new legislation. Interestingly, that voice was not an elected official. A gentleman by the name of Ryan Keith, who was listed as a “PR Specialist” in the story offered some quotes. Keith said the new legislation is “a creative plan to get some life into the coal industry, and hopefully do it in a more friendly way than it has been done before.”
He went on to say: “Financial well-being is tied to the success in the coal industry. Different mine closures and other challenges puts people in a real state of hardship, so this legislation is hoping to offer some incentive for the industry to get on its feet.”
Let me enlighten you about this ‘spin’ story and also establish a cold, hard fact – this legislation has nothing to do with coal. It has nothing to do with the coal industry. It has nothing to do with correcting the hardships the coal industry has suffered. It has nothing to do with innovation or an investment plan. It has nothing to do with incentives for the coal industry. It has nothing to do with getting the coal industry on its feet.
Instead, this same old tired song has everything to do with getting re-elected, period. It has to do with spouting off platitudes during stump speeches about fighting for the coal industry. It has to do with color glossy mailers that will soon be appearing in our mailboxes detailing this bogus legislation. It has to do with November 8, 2016 – Election Day!
In short, it’s another election year and so it’s time to trot out yet another feel-good coal story.
Isn’t it interesting that we have Democratic state lawmakers introducing legislation they claim will offer incentives for the Illinois coal industry while at the federal level President Obama continues to work feverishly to keep his 2008 campaign promise to bankrupt the coal industry? By the way, that word ‘bankrupt’ is Obama’s word, not mine. It’s the word he used when detailing his plans for the coal industry while being interviewed eight years ago by the editorial board of the San Francisco Chronicle. Never let it be said that Obama never kept a campaign promise, because he made good on that one. And if elected, the presumptive Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton has stated clearly and unequivocally that she will continue Obama’s legacy to kill the coal industry.
Just for the record the list of coal companies that have filed bankruptcy during Obama’s fight against coal includes Peabody Coal Company (the largest privately-owned coal company in the world), Arch Coal, Patriot Coal, Alpha Natural Resources, James River Coal and Walter Energy. The common denominator in all these bankruptcies boils down to one thing: federal regulations. And it should be pointed out that most of these over-reaching regulations were implemented through executive orders handed down by Obama. Interestingly, the same lawmakers who are touting all they’ve done for coal are the same ones who endorsed Obama eight years ago.
On the same day that I read the ‘vote-for-me/coal story’ I read another story that documented that the state of Illinois has had no job growth in the private sector during the 21st Century. In fact, according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics Illinois has actually lost approximately 1,000 jobs in the private sector between January 2000 and March 2016. That’s zero job growth during the past 16 years. Zero. Nada. Nothing. Zilch. The only state with worse numbers in this category than Illinois is Mississippi.
So, pardon me for being cynical about this new sure-fire legislation to revitalize the coal industry, but you see I’ve been fooled before. But, I won’t be fooled again.
Jim Muir has been a journalist in Southern Illinois for 24 years working in newspaper, radio and magazine. Follow Jim Muir on Facebook or on Twitter @jmuir1153. He can be reached at jmuir@frontier.com or at 618-525-4744.
The fight against becoming an old fogey
February 26, 2016 By Leave a Comment
I have written some columns during the past year where I’ve been less than flattering about today’s youth. I have taken them to task over their work ethic, choice of political candidates, a lack of respect and ambition and even for standing up against a perceived injustice.
Valentine’s Day: A time for love … a time for sadness
February 14, 2016 By Leave a Comment
There are times when I sit down to conjure up something for this space that I know exactly the audience I hope to target. There are other days when I write just for me – and today is one of those days – and I simply invite you along for the ride.
My mom, Geraldine, passed away 16 years ago and I want to preface what I write by saying she was a good woman, a good Christian woman. She was also a good mother, grandmother and a good and faithful wife. Prior to her death she had been in a nursing home for a couple years, suffering from dementia and perhaps early Alzheimers. She was 79 years old, two months short of her 80th birthday when her body just finally wore out. And there is no doubt in my mind that she passed out of this life to a better one.
She passed away on Valentine’s day shortly after 5 a.m on a dreary, February Monday morning. As anybody who has been through the loss of a loved one knows, the date of death become seared in your mind. It can be a Tuesday in mid-August with no relevance to anything and then suddenly that date becomes a part of you and you carry it with you forever.
That morning when my mother passed and I realized it was February 14 – Valentine’s Day — it was an odd feeling for me. On one hand a day set aside to express love and share with a significant person in your life and on the other hand it was now a day that will forever be associated with sadness and loss. Again, it was just a very odd feeling when that finally registered with me and it’s a feeling I’ve experienced every February 14 since.
And on the day set aside for Cupid, candy and flowers I also deal with the fact that my mom and I did not have a great relationship. While we were never estranged and we were always in contact through the years we were often at odds with one another. Think oil and water, gasoline and an open match or Geraldine and Jim, sometimes we just didn’t mix well.
Geraldine Muir
You see, I came along at a time when my mom thought she was through having children – I have three older siblings. Couple in the fact that she had two miscarriages during those three pregnancies means she was pregnant five times before me.
Throughout my life I heard her tell the story – a hundred times, a thousand times, maybe a million times — about the day she went to Dr. Turner, in Christopher, and he confirmed what she suspected – that she was expecting her fourth child.
“Well, Geraldine you’re pregnant again,” Dr. Turner said. “What do you want this time?”
And as the story was told, she sat in his office and cried and then replied: “At this point in time I don’t care.”
And then the exclamation point to the story that she often told is that she went home, went to bed and cried for a week. While that might seem like a tough story, I realize what she was thinking. She was 35 years old, had two daughters ages 12 and 7 and a son 3 years old. I get it, I understand what it’s like to think you have your life moving in the right direction and then find out you don’t.
And to add insult to her injury she was ‘blessed’ to have a son (that’s me) who was somewhat of a handful. I weighed 10 lbs 10 ounces when I was born and it was not an easy birth and from the time I learned to put one foot in front of the other I was rambunctious at best. I’m certain that having a child who was always into something (and most of the time it was trouble) only confirmed her original thinking that she didn’t want or need any more kids.
If I had a dollar for every time she likened me to a ‘bull in a China shop’ or used the phrase ‘mess and glomm’ — ‘that’s all you do is mess and glomm’ — I’d be independently wealthy right now. I never bothered to ask what the word ‘glomm’ meant, but I was nearly certain it was nothing good.
As the years went by I’m certain that it also didn’t set well with her that she and I were very much alike in certain ways. For instance, she was very opinionated and loved to get the last word in … and of course those who know me recognize that I’m guilty of the same character flaws. Based on that, it’s easy to see how the fire could fly occasionally between us.
Through the many ‘discussions’ we had I learned from a young age that there was always one button I could push that would get the same result. And I should note that I pushed it regularly. In the middle of a disagreement I would dispense with calling her ‘Mom’ and would begin a sentence like this; ‘Listen … Geraldine’ … and I would drag the word ‘Geraldine’ out to about four syllables. Of course I knew the second I said that she was going to grab the first thing she could find and hit me with it. She definitely was not one of those ‘wait-until-your-dad-gets-home-type of moms.’
And I certainly get my love for politics from my mom, although we often didn’t see eye-to-eye on that subject either. She is the first person I ever heard use the phrase ‘yellow-dog Democrat’ and she was referring to herself. Of course that phrase means that she would vote for a yellow dog before she’d vote for a Republican. As I got older and my views became more conservative we traded verbal jabs quite often. During the past decade I’ve often thought that I would love to talk to her and debate the current state of affairs in both Washington D.C and Springfield. That … would be interesting and entertaining. Despite our disagreements, I miss her and I think about talking to her often.
As a columnist I think one of my strong suits is that I have the God-given ability to take virtually any topic and in about 750-800 words tell a story and wrap it up at the end into a nice, neat little package. But, I can’t do that with this particular offering because there is no nice, neat way to wrap this up. After reading and re-reading what I’ve written here there is no real story to this, instead it’s just ramblings about a mother and son that often struggled and failed to like each other, but who always loved each other.
Happy Valentine’s Day … and thanks for spending some time today with a tired, old writer who feels like a little boy missing his mom.
December 13, 1977: A Day of Tragedy and Tears
December 12, 2015 By Leave a Comment
December 13, 1977 – A Day Forever Etched in Our Memory
By Jim Muir
There are moments in life that are so shocking and so surreal that they are forever etched in our minds and seared in our conscience. The memories of those events are so vivid that we can pinpoint exactly where we were at, who we were with and in some instances even what clothing we were wearing.
Think of the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, the explosion of the space shuttle Challenger and in more recent times the 9-11 terror attacks.
The same can be said, particularly for area sports fans, about the date Dec. 13, 1977 – the day that the entire University of Evansville basketball team died in a fiery plane crash less than two minutes after take-off from Dress Regional Airport, in Evansville. In all 29 people died in the crash including 14 players, head coach Bobby Watson, one trainer, two team managers, the school’s sports information director, a longtime radio sportscaster, the assistant athletic director, three crew members and two airline officials.
Three members of that team – Mike Duff, Kevin Kingston and Greg Smith – were Southern Illinois high school basketball standouts that had thrilled fans with their athletic abilities. All of Southern Illinois was proud that the three area players had taken their considerable skills to Evansville, who had just made the move to Division I basketball.
Following news of the crash the sense of loss and the grief throughout Southern Illinois during that Christmas season was immeasurable. On the 30th anniversary of that event and to honor those who died Southern Illinois Sports Connection looks back at that fateful, foggy night through the eyes of six people that were intimately entwined in the lives of those who perished.
A Young Reporter and the Story of a Lifetime
On the night of Dec. 13, 1977 Rich Davis reported to work at the Evansville Courier & Press expecting it to be a typical Tuesday night.
Davis had worked at the newspaper for four years covering hard news stories but said nothing had prepared him for what he would experience that December night.
Davis, now 58, still works at the newspaper and recently recalled the events of that night three decades ago. Davis remembered that word was received in the newsroom shortly after 7:30 p.m. that a plane had gone down near the airport.
“The first indication was that it was a commercial flight,” said Davis. “Nobody even suspected it was the Aces because they were supposed to fly out at about 4 p.m. but we didn’t know then that the foggy conditions had prevented their charter flight from arriving from Indianapolis. Even when we got to the sight and started making our way toward the wreckage we didn’t have any idea.”
The plane had taxied down the runway at 7:21 p.m. and less than 90 seconds later crashed in a hard-to-reach area east of the main runway near Melody Hills subdivision. Davis and two other reporters headed to the scene. He described the weather conditions as “miserable, just terrible.”
“I really don’t remember it being that cold but it was just a misting rain all day long and very foggy, a pea-soup kind of night,” Davis said.
The three reporters traveled as far as they could by car until they encountered a dead-end street. At that point they exited the vehicle and what Davis described as “an odd event” took place.
“We were standing there trying to figure out how to get to the crash site and by then there was security everywhere and from out of nowhere this kid walks up to me, he couldn’t have been more than 10 years old, and says ‘Mister, I can get you down there, I know how to get there.’ So we start following this little boy through brush and thicket and woods and there was mud everywhere,” Davis recalled. “When we got down there the plane had actually crashed in a ravine by a railroad track. As we got closer I could see the tail of the plane up on this ridge above us and there were still some small fires. When we arrived they had already started trying to recover the bodies.”
Even as he made his way to the wreckage Davis still believed the crash was a commercial jet.
“When we got close enough I saw a bunch of Aces’ duffel bags and tennis shoes scattered everywhere,” recalled Davis. “It would have been horrible regardless, but when I realized it was the Aces I just had this overwhelming feeling of grief.”
Davis explained that the 1977-78 basketball season was a milestone for the Evansville program as they made the jump to Division I for the first time. He said the Aces enjoyed unrivaled stature in the community due in large part to winning five Division II national championships during a 12 year span under legendary Coach Arad McCutchan.
Davis said one particular moment stood out that night during the recovery of bodies.
“Because of where the crash took place the only way to get the bodies out was to bring a train in,” said Davis. “It was very foggy and I still remember the light of that train cutting through the fog and the misting rain and when they blew the whistle I remember how mournful it sounded. They transported the bodies from there downtown to a makeshift morgue.”
Davis said on a national scale the grief associated across the nation with the 9-11 attacks was comparable but regionally he has never encountered – and he doesn’t expect he ever will – any story as devastating as the plane crash.
“As the horror of what happened took hold the entire community was just absolutely devastated,” said Davis. “That night I was so caught up in it that I didn’t have time to even think about what had happened. It was just surreal. The grief was everywhere because people just couldn’t comprehend something of this magnitude. I mean, in one horrible moment this city lost something very, very special. The coach, the team … everything was just wiped out that night.”
Diamond Avenue and U.S. Route 41
Marie Kothe was a senior at the University of Evansville on that tragic night 30 years ago. Kothe, who ironically works at Evansville Regional Airport (formerly Dress Regional Airport), said the details of the plane crash are just as fresh today as they were in 1977.
“I had just gotten out of a night class, it was a nutrition class, and was driving home when I heard on the radio that the Aces’ plane had crashed,” said Kothe. “I remember that I was sitting at a red light at the corner of Diamond Avenue and Route 41. I was immediately in a state of shock. I remember looking over in the direction of the airport and it was cold and rainy and dreary. I drove on home but I don’t remember the drive. I remember staying up all night watching television.”
Much the way reporter Rich Davis remembered it, Kothe said the grim reality of what had happened and what had been lost didn’t sink in for a few days.
“When they started announcing names and I could put a connection with the names it was worse,” said Kothe. “The word that comes to mind when you talk about the community as a whole is stunned, I just think the entire city was walking around stunned about what had happened. I don’t think I even cried for a couple of days and then all of a sudden it hit me about what had happened.”
Kothe has worked at the airport for four years and noted that the plane crash was on her mind even when she applied for the position.
“I mean you can just look across the field there,” said Kothe pointing in the direction of the crash site, “and you automatically remember what happened. The people that were here in Evansville will never forget that night.”
A Coach Remembers
Aside from family members perhaps nobody had more connection to the three Southern Illinois athletes that died in the Evansville plane crash than Bob Brown.
A legendary high school player at West Frankfort in the late 1950s and early 1960s Brown played college basketball at the University of Illinois. He still holds the single game scoring record at West Frankfort, a 52-point explosion against Herrin where he scored 29 points in the fourth quarter.
Brown took over as head coach at Eldorado during the 1972-73 season and coached at the Saline County school for five years, compiling an impressive overall record of 121-30. During that span Brown coached Kevin Kingston two years and coached Mike Duff three years. That five year span included two unbeaten regular seasons and three trips to the Elite Eight, played in Champaign during that era. In 1975 the Eagles finished fourth, were beaten in the quarter-finals in 1976 and then returned in 1977 to finish in third place.
“Every year I was at Eldorado was very special,” Brown said. “Those kids worked so hard for me, they were just warriors.”
Brown’s oldest son, Mike, was born during his coaching days in Eldorado and was named after Duff, he said.
“I loved the kid (Duff),” Brown said. “All three of these young men were the kind of guy you’d want in a foxhole with you.”
Along with his association with Duff and Kingston Brown, because he is a native of West Frankfort had known Greg Smith also and was even instrumental in helping him secure a basketball scholarship to Evansville. Smith had already committed to attend Millikan University but changed his mind after Brown lobbied Evansville Coach Bobby Watson to give the West Frankfort standout a scholarship.
“I’ve thought about that often,” said Brown. “I had a part in him (Smith) going to Evansville. That was tough to take.”
Following the 1976-77 season Brown left Eldorado and took a coaching job at West Frankfort. Like all those involved in the tragedy he remembers distinctly where he was at when he heard the news about the plane crash.
“I was still living in Eldorado and when I was driving home that evening, I never will forget, I was driving through Galatia I heard something about a plane crash on the radio, just bits and pieces, there was no real details,” said Brown. “When I pulled into my driveway my wife ran out to the car and I knew something serious had happened. I immediately started making phone calls to see if anybody had survived. It was difficult to get all the details. You have to remember that in 1977 it wasn’t like it is now with cell phones and cable television.”
Even 30 years after the plane crash Brown still gets emotional when discussing the death of Duff, Kingston and Smith.
“I’ve never in my life experienced something as devastating as this,” said Brown. “It took a lot out of me and to be honest I was never quite the same afterwards. I mean these were kids that were hard workers, disciplined, intelligent and they had their entire life in front of them. It was just hard to believe that something like this could happen. The absolute toughest thing I’ve ever had to do in my life was go to those three wakes that week.”
A wake for Duff and Kingston was held at the Eldorado High School gymnasium (later named Duff-Kingston Gymnasium), Brown recalled. He said it was a fitting tribute that the two players be memorialized together but he also found it to be a cruel irony.
“Here are these two caskets on the same basketball floor where we had all these wonderful moments and memories,” said Brown. “I just remember that the grief was unbearable.”
Brown said all three funerals were held on the Friday following the Tuesday plane crash. He said his West Frankfort team had a game scheduled with Harrisburg on the night of the funeral and after consulting with the Smith family it was decided to play the game.
“We were not very good and hadn’t won a game at that point in the season,” said Brown. “I showed up and I tried to talk to my team but I just couldn’t do it. We ended up winning the game, I don’t know how, but we did somehow. I can honestly say that coaching just wasn’t the same for me after that plane crash.”
Brown said he often thinks of Duff, Kingston and Smith, and not just near the anniversary of their deaths, and even has a portrait of the three players in his living room. Brown said he believes all three would have been successful as adults.
“I think Duff would have played in the NBA, he was that good,” said Brown. “I believe Kevin would have been a high school coach and with his work ethic would have been a great coach. And as intelligent as Greg was, he could have done anything he wanted to do.”
A Phone Call from the Airport
In her words Kay Barrow remembers the details of Dec. 13, 1977 “just like it was yesterday.
Barrow, the mother of Mike Duff, was working in the Eldorado office of her husband, Dr. John Barrow, a well-known orthopedic surgeon. She said she remembers a late afternoon phone call from Duff, the last time she and her son would ever talk.
“Mostly I remember that he was happy that afternoon,” Barrow said. “He called to see if we were going to make it to the game the next night and he also told me that their flight had been delayed because of the weather. It was just a typical conversation but the main thing I remember is that the last time I talked with him he was happy.”
Barrow said she heard the news about the crash while listening to an Eldorado basketball game that night.
“It was just one of those moments in life when you just don’t want to believe what you just heard,” she said. “We started calling people we knew in Evansville trying to find out the details, looking back it was just surreal. It was just a short time after we heard the news that people started coming to the house trying to be with us and to help take care of us. That night and that entire week were just like a blur to me, we went around in a daze.”
Barrow said the years have helped lessen the grief but she said that December remains a difficult month even three decades after the plane crash.
“December is always a tough month and it always will be,” Barrow said. “I do anything I can, frantically clean house, put up Christmas decorations, just anything to keep my mind off of it. Christmas has never been quite the same for me.”
Barrow said there are also little, unexpected things that create a flood of emotions.
“Before the plane crash I had ordered Mike a down-filled coat for Christmas, I ordered it from an L.L. Bean catalog,” said Barrow. “The other day we got an L.L. Bean catalog in the mail and I automatically thought about that December in 1977. And it’s not just that, there are little things all the time that make you remember.”
Noting that he would now be 48 years old, Barrow said she often wonders what kind of man her son would have made. Saying that “Mike will always be 18” she said she has watched his classmates at Eldorado grow into middle age and that always rekindles memories of her son.
Duff played only four games for Evansville prior to the plane crash and the final game he played was against Indiana State, who was led by Larry Bird. Duff scored 23 against Bird in his last game, prompting Evansville Coach Bobby Watson to say after the game that Duff would be as good as Bird, who was two years older. Barrow said she and her husband met Bird a couple of years ago and the former NBA great told them that he remembered that particular game. She said they also met Magic Johnson, who Duff played with in an all-star game before entering college. Barrow said Magic also told the couple he remembered playing against their son.
“Little things like that means a lot,” she said.
Barrow said she recently had an unexpected emotional moment when she heard a story concerning Sam Clancy, a friend Mike had met while playing in an all-star game in Pittsburg the summer before he died.
“I just heard recently where Sam Clancy’s son is playing basketball at UCLA,” she said. “It’s just little things like that that brings it all back.”
A Last Lunch Date
Donald Kingston was working as an assistant basketball coach at Eldorado High School in December 1977 and his son Kevin was in his senior season at the University of Evansville. Given the rigors of both their schedules opportunities for the Kingstons to get together were few and far between.
Looking back three decades Donald Kingston said he recalls the details of Dec. 11 that year as well as he does Dec. 13 – the day his only son was killed in the plane crash. Kingston traveled to Evansville on the Sunday prior to the Tuesday plane crash to have lunch with Kevin – a lunch date that included a heart-to-heart talk. The elder Kingston still cherishes that conversation.
“Kevin worked hard for everything he had achieved, he just outworked other people his entire career,” said Kingston. “And that day we ate at Red Lobster and I told him I loved him and how proud I was of him for all the hard work and for all that he had accomplished. That was the last time I ever talked to him.”
On that fateful Tuesday night Kingston was with the Eldorado basketball team at a game at Norris City. Kingston did not ride the bus that night, instead driving his car to the game. On the return trip to Eldorado he and his wife heard news of the plane crash on the radio.
“Think about this, I was driving along and I heard the announcer come on and say that the Aces’ plane had crashed and that Kevin Kingston was dead.” said Kingston. “I’ll never forget that, you’re hoping that what you just heard isn’t true but deep down you know that it is.”
Kingston said his daughter (four years younger than Kevin) was a cheerleader for Eldorado and was on the bus. He said the players and cheerleaders also heard the news en route back to Eldorado.
“We still had to go to the gym to pick her up and she was just devastated,” Kingston said.
Kingston said instead of dwelling on the crash that took his son’s life he has instead tried to keep his focus on the outstanding career his son had, particularly the great teams at Eldorado.
“Bob Brown was a great coach, those kids would do anything for him,” said Kingston. “Those were very special times in Eldorado. Mike Duff was a great player and I believe he would have played professional basketball. Kevin didn’t have the God-given talent that some players have but he just worked so hard. He was always the best defensive player on every team he played on.”
Kingston said he also thinks often about what the future would have held for his son.
“I really think Kevin would have been a coach and I think he would have been a good one,” said Kingston. “He was a senior at Evansville and he had already agreed to stay on and work as a grad assistant the next year. He always said that he wanted to come back to Eldorado and coach. I think about that a lot.”
‘It’s with you all the time’
On a trip to Evansville in early December of 1977 to see their son Greg play basketball Art and Carolyn Smith decided to do some Christmas shopping. The Smiths bought several gifts, mostly clothing for Greg, a freshman point guard for the Aces.
Carolyn said the clothes she painstakingly picked out for Greg during that shopping trip were never wrapped.
“We ended up burying Greg in those clothes,” she said. “I think about that every single December.”
Smith was a 1977 graduate of West Frankfort High School where he was a three-year starter and standout for the Redbirds. After graduation he signed to go to Millikan University but then later changed his mind and was awarded a scholarship to play at Evansville.
“Greg was so excited about going to Evansville,” said Art. “He loved basketball, he studied the game and he worked really hard to become a better player. Greg was having the time of his life at Evansville. He was more excited about getting that scholarship to Evansville than I had ever seen him.”
In 1977 the Smiths were the majority owner of WFRX radio in West Frankfort and it was a call from the station that first alerted him that something might be wrong. Asked where he was at when he learned about the plane crash Art answered immediately.
“I was right here in this room,” he said waving his arm in a circular motion around the family room. “I received a call about 8 p.m. that there had been a plane crash near Evansville but I didn’t think for a second that it was the Aces because I knew they were supposed to fly out at 4 p.m. so I figured that they were already in Nashville.”
Smith said a second phone call moments later confirmed that it was the Evansville team and within seconds Gail Borton, principal at the high school and Harold Hood, the high school coach showed up. Borton volunteered to drive the Smiths to Evansville.
“We found out where they had the morgue set up and we went there first,” Art recalled. “After we arrived, the assistant coach who was not on the plane came running over and told us that Greg was still alive and had been taken to Deaconess Hospital. We went straight there and the doctor came out just as soon as we arrived and said that Greg had died five minutes before we got there.”
Art said identifying his son’s body is the hardest thing he’s ever had to do. He also noted that it was the first time Greg had ever flown.
“They told me I could stay with him as long as I wanted and I stayed with him for quite a while. I didn’t want Carolyn to go,” said Art. “I remember after that we went down to the little chapel at the hospital and just sat there and stared at each other and never said a word. What can you say at a time like that?”
The Smiths said the loss of their son shook their once-strong faith to the core.
“We were active in church and we just quit going, we quit for 20 years,” said Art. “The church was good to us and the pastor was good, but we were angry. Thoughts of ‘why’ ran through my mind a lot. I don’t know how we would have gotten through it if it hadn’t been for our other two children. They were involved in other activities and we had to go on … I think they gave us the will to go on.
The Aces had played only four games prior to the plane crash and Greg got to see action in only the Indiana State game – the last game the 1977-78 team ever played. In all, Greg’s collegiate career spanned three minutes. Yet Art recalled him being in a great mood the last time they talked.
“He had gotten in to a game for the first time against Indiana State with about three minutes left,” Art said. “It just so happened that when he came in the game Larry Bird came out of the game. He said, ‘I guess they didn’t want me to embarrass him.’ He was laughing about that, he was in good spirits the last time we talked.”
Art and Carolyn agreed that every memory of Greg is a good one – something that has helped sustain them through the years.
“He was just such a good boy,” said Carolyn. “I can never remember one time ever that I had to get on him about anything. He tried so hard to please, he was an excellent student. He was just the type of person you wanted to be around.”
The Smiths said that the loss of their oldest son has never really lessened throughout the years.
“Even after 30 years … it’s with you all the time,” said Art. “But, it’s worse in December because all those memories come back every year.”
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Did the NBA lose a future star?
How good could Mike Duff have been if he had not lost his life in the Evansville plane crash? The answer to that question from all who watched him play was that he would have someday made a living playing basketball in the NBA.
On the final game of his life, Dec. 10, 1977 Duff, only a freshman, scored 23 in a loss to highly-ranked Indiana State and Larry Bird. An excerpt from a story in the Evansville Courier & Press following the Indiana State game shows that Duff had already caught the attention of Evansville Coach Bobby Watson.
The story read in part:
“Watson, not one to give out accolades, said following the loss to Indiana State that freshman Mike Duff would “be as good as Larry Bird in a couple of years.”
Duff’s high school coach Bob Brown also believes he would not only have played, but starred in the NBA.
“There’s no question about it,” Brown said. “He was 6’7” or 6’8” and he could go inside, come outside and shoot the mid-range jumper. He was quick and smart and he would have just kept getting better. He hadn’t come close to realizing his full potential yet.”
Duff’s high school statistics are eye-popping by any standard and he still holds virtually every Eldorado scoring record.
Duff records include:
Game – 47 points
Season – 1,097 points
Career – 2,558 points
Points per game – 32.3
Rebounds game – 28
Rebounds season — 515
Career
Points per game – 25.8 (over three years)
Rebounds – 1,287
Don Kingston, whose son Kevin was also killed in the plane crash, echoed Brown’s words. Kingston was an assistant coach at Eldorado during Duff’s glory days when he led the Eagles to three straight Elite Eight appearances in Champaign.
“He had greatness all over him,” said Kingston. “I don’t think there is any question that he would have played professional basketball. I mean think about that, as a freshman in his fourth collegiate game he scored 23 against Larry Bird and Indiana State. He had all the physical skills and plus he had the determination. Yeah, I believe he would’ve played professionally.”
— Jim Muir —
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Fate Played a Role that December
In any tragedy fate always seems to play a role but in the Dec. 13, 1977 plane crash that claimed the lives of the Evansville Aces there were several ironies that can’t be overlooked.
* McLeansboro native and current Utah Jazz Coach Jerry Sloan, who led Evansville to a pair of Division II national titles, was hired as the head coach at Evansville prior to the start of the 1977-78 season, but abruptly resigned the position three weeks later. Bobby Watson, an assistant at Oral Roberts, was hired to replace Sloan and died in the crash.
* David Lee, a teammate of Sloan at McLeansboro, had agreed to work as an assistant with Sloan at Evansville during the 1977-78 season. After Sloan resigned the position was not available to Lee, who later went on to lead McLeansboro to a Class A state title in 1984. The Foxes compiled a perfect 35-0 record and were led by Brian Sloan – Jerry’s son.
* West Frankfort standout Greg Smith had signed to play for Joe Ramsey at Millikan University and was already on campus when he was asked to try out for one open scholarship at Evansville. Smith beat out more than 20 others and won the full-ride scholarship. Smith then transferred to Evansville and died in the crash less than three months later.
* Mike Duff was recruited by virtually every college in the nation including Kentucky, Duke, North Carolina, Illinois and UCLA. Duff signed a letter-of-intent to attend Missouri and play for legendary Coach Norm Stewart but later changed his mind and opted out of the contract to attend Evansville. The fact Evansville was making the move to Division I that year allowed Duff to get out of the contract with Missouri. Like Smith, Duff would die less than three months later.
* Tom Collins, a reporter with the Evansville Courier, was scheduled to travel with the team to Nashville on Dec. 13, 1977 to cover the game against Middle Tennessee State, but his assignment was changed by his editor at the last minute and he remained in Evansville. Collins had planned to drive to Nashville the following day to cover the Dec. 14 game against Middle Tennessee State – a game that was never played.
* David Furr was a star basketball player at Olney High School and had a scholarship to play at Millikan University. Instead he opted to go to Evansville and walk on. Furr injured his ankle while trying out for the Aces but Coach Bobby Watson said that he had like what he saw from Furr and asked him to stay with the team and try out again after his ankle healed. While his ankle was on the mend Furr became the team statistician, working home games but not traveling with the team. So, Furr was lucky he wasn’t on the doomed plane that night in December 1977 and actually became the only team member to survive.
But, fate was still not through during that cruel December because Furr and his brother Byron were both killed in a two-car crash while they were driving home from a holiday basketball tournament in Charleston. David Furr was driving and lost control of the vehicle and crossed the centerline striking a utility truck head on. The accident took place on Dec. 27 – exactly two weeks to the day after the plane crash.
— Jim Muir —
Saluki Basketball teams up with Carbondale Police in Coats For Kids program
November 10, 2015 By Leave a Comment
CARBONDALE, Ill. – The Saluki men’s and women’s basketball teams and the Carbondale Police Department are teaming up to fight the cold with the Coats for Kids program during three upcoming home games.
Fans are invited to donate new coats at the men’s game on Nov. 15 against Florida A&M at 3 p.m., the women’s game on Nov. 25 against UT-Martin at 6 p.m., and the men’s game on Dec. 2 against SEMO at 7 p.m. There is also a permanent donation location in Room 151 of the Troutt-Wittmann Center.
All donated coats will go to the Carbondale Police Department Community Christmas Store to help needy children ages 1-11.
