PERSONAL REFLECTIONS OF PATERNO

I didn’t know Joe Paterno well, but well enough to get a glimpse of his complicated personality. I didn’t cover his team on a regular basis, but regular enough to witness his greatness from a perspective that few people got to enjoy. I wouldn’t be presumptuous enough to think we were friends, but in the countless times I was with him over the past 28 years, he was always friendly. He was a legend in his sport, and an icon in our culture. I was 35 years his junior, and a local television reporter, so the dynamic of our relationship was crystal clear. At least it was to me. I talked to, or interviewed Paterno on many occasions. I chased him down after practices, after games, at fundraising events, and at airports. A long time ago, we even had a chance meeting on the beach! Back in the summer of 1994, in the early-morning hours of a scorching-hot day, I was all alone on a beach at the Jersey Shore. I was assembling a playground tent so my children would have a shaded sanctuary from the sun, when out of the morning mist, covered only by a bathing suit and dark sunglasses, came the unmistakable sight of Joe Paterno. There he was, the one-and-only JoPa, standing above my work of art like a figure in a dream sequence. He asked what I was doing, and I explained that I was building a tent haven for my children. The coach laughed, and asked if I planned on selling beer. I told him no, but that I’d make arrangements to get one for him for free. Paterno joked that he might plan a return later in the day. He never did, but about six months later, I was reporting on Penn State’s trip to the Rose Bowl, when, after a group interview, I asked Paterno if he remembered our beach rendezvous. His face lit up, and without missing a beat, he asked if I still had that beer for him. Several years after that, during a Penn State fundraising event at the Duquesne Club in Pittsburgh, I approached Paterno after a news conference, and after a brief introduction, he said he’d “prefer to be talking on the beach.” Paterno’s memory was remarkable. So was his considerable influence and his amazing ability for shaping the lives of his student-athletes. He used to tell his coaches that the only difference between sinners and saints was “direction,” and that they needed to point their players in the right direction. Paterno wasn’t perfect, but there was no denying that he was a perfectly great man. His reputation took a beating over the past ten weeks, but since his passing, the love and respect he deserves have poured in like an avalanche. I have no idea how Paterno’s legacy will be affected by the horrible events of the past two-and-a-half months, but it appears that Joseph Vincent Paterno has earned in death what he wasn’t able to enjoy in the final weeks of his exceptional life.