I read the book--"The Blind Side" and thought it was great. I'm sure the movie will be too.
On Sat, Oct 31, 2009 at 7:53 PM, JNene <[email protected]> wrote: > Made me choke up, too. > And I'm crying at the ads for The Blind Side movie (Michael Oher, Ole > Miss). I'm going to be basket case when I actually see the movie. > -JNene (Don't call me old, yet!) > > --- Original Message ----- > From: > "Gatornet Admin" <[email protected]> > > To: > "GatorTalk" <[email protected]> > Cc: > > Sent: > Sat, 31 Oct 2009 20:32:00 -0400 > Subject: > [gatortalk] Re: [gatornews] Twenty Years Ago, One Hit Changed Two Lives > Forever > > > > Sniff, sniff! Choke... :( > > Randy (I'm becoming a "softie" in my old age) > > ----- Original Message ----- > From: "JNene" > To: "GatorNews" > Sent: Saturday, October 31, 2009 6:05 PM > Subject: [gatornews] Twenty Years Ago, One Hit Changed Two Lives Forever > > > > > > (SEC topic, not Gator-related, but I thought it would be of interest.) > > Twenty Years Ago, One Hit Changed Two Lives Forever > > > > Posted Oct 28, 2009 12:00PM By David Whitley (RSS feed) > > > > > > Brad Gaines will do it again early Wednesday morning. He'll grab some > > Clorox and glass cleaner, toss them in the trunk of his Buick and head > > to a little cemetery 175 miles away. > > > > His long, strange trip actually began 20 years ago today. > > > > "I'll be doing it until I die," Gaines said. > > > > He goes to visit a friend he never really knew. Then one crazy > > football play bound them forever. On a Homecoming afternoon, he > > collided with Chucky Mullins. > > > > Gaines, a tailback for Vanderbilt, got up and headed back to the > > huddle. Mullins, a safety for Mississippi, never moved again. > > > > His neck was shattered. He died less than two years later. > > > > We read about such things, wince and move on. It's nobody's fault. > > It's just football. > > > > Gaines knew that on Oct. 28, 1989. He knows it on Oct. 28, 2009. > > > > It doesn't matter. > > > > "I know it was part of the game," he said, "but it doesn't change the > > fact, you know ..." > > > > He's tried to explain it a million times why he drives from Nashville > > to Russellville, Ala. three times a year. If it's the date of the > > accident or the date Mullins died or Christmas, Gaines has to make it > > to the grave that's marked simply: > > > > Chucky, Man of Courage. > > > > So what force drives Gaines? Why has he has skipped out early every > > Christmas or left home at midnight to get back for a morning meeting > > or barely beat the clock and found himself cleaning Mullins' grave by > > the light of the moon? > > > > "There have been times I have had to hitchhike because I ran out of > > gas, had blown out tires, my car's broken down," Gaines said. "But I > > always make it." > > > > Everybody from his wife to total strangers has worried and wondered. > > Perhaps the only person who could truly understand is Mullins. > > > > "It's almost like it was fate," Gaines said. > > > > He was a white kid from hoity-toity Vandy. His brothers had played in > > the NFL. He was a stud running back, the leading receiver in the SEC, > > a kid whose idea of hardship was getting turned down for a date. > > > > "There have been times I have had to hitchhike because I ran out of > > gas, had blown out tires, my car's broken down. But I always make it." > > -- Brad Gaines Mullins was a skinny black kid from a nowhere town. His > > mother died when he was in sixth grade. He wasn't particularly fast or > > strong or talented, but Ole Miss coaches loved his attitude. Mullins > > would do anything to win. > > > > So it wasn't surprising that he lowered his helmet and buried it in > > No. 44's back. Gaines had gone up to catch a pass. The force from > > behind knocked the ball loose before he hit the ground. > > > > Gaines scrambled to recover it, but the refs called it an incomplete > > pass. He didn't even notice No. 38 wasn't moving. Before long, the > > number would literally mean everything to him. > > > > Gaines couldn't sleep after the accident. He no longer cared about the > > sport he was raised to love. He didn't even play his senior season. > > > > He did try to get to know the source of his pain. The first time they > > formally met, Gaines walked into the hospital room and tried not to > > visibly shake. Mullins was in a halo contraption with all sorts of > > tubes attached to his body. > > > > A ventilator was rhythmically hissing at his bedside. Gaines shuffled > > near the bed, bent over and strained to make out what Mullins said. > > > > "It wasn't your fault." > > > > That was Chucky. His spirit never inspired people far beyond the > > South. Walter Payton visited him. So did Janet Jackson and George H. > > W. Bush. > > > > > > More than $1 million was raised for his trust fund. Ole Miss built him > > a specially equipped house, and he was back in class the next year. > > Then a blood clot formed in his lung. > > > > Gaines read about it and drove to the hospital in Memphis . Mullins > > was in a coma, but his friend got there in time to say goodbye. Then > > doctors removed the life-support system. Gaines went to the hospital > > roof and wept. > > > > Ole Miss started the Chucky Mullins Courage Award, given each year to > > a senior defensive player. The winner used to wear No. 38 until the > > school retired it in 2006. > > > > "You say 'Chucky,' and everybody knows what you mean," Gaines said. > > > > You say Brad, and everybody wonders what that means. > > > > "As I get older I've gotten even more emotional about it," he said. "I > > don't know, maybe raising my own kids and how fragile life can be." > > > > He has four of them now, three girls ages one to 11, and a five-year- > > old boy. Gaines is a successful businessman but he still drives a 20- > > year-old Buick his kids hate. > > > > "I wish your car would die," they tell him all the time. > > > > If it does today, he'll just start hitchhiking. Gaines has lost count > > of the trips he's made to Russellville, but it's at least 60. None of > > his kids have ever gone with him. They just know their father has > > something he has to do. > > > > "When I leave to go to the cemetery, they know why I'm going," Gaines > > said. "They see the importance of that, the importance of having love > > for your fellow man." > > > > Mullins is buried next to his mother, who died when she was only 32. > > Gaines will pluck the weeds then clean the dirt and grime off the > > brown granite headstone. > > > > Then he'll just sit and talk and pray. > > > > It may seem odd that Gaines carries a picture of Mullins in his > > wallet. That his phone number still ends with the number 3800. That he > > just can't let go. > > > > Why? > > > > "He's a person I love," Gaines said, "and I miss." > > > > It's as simple as that. > > > > So what will Gaines' headstone read one day? Is he a Man of Guilt or > > Craziness or Courage or Compassion? > > > > Whatever it is, Mullins would be proud to clean it. > > > > > > > > > ------------------------------ > Msg sent via Spiderhost - http://www.spiderhost.com/ > > > --~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~ GATORS: ONE VOICE ON SATURDAY - NO VOICE ON SUNDAY! 1996 National Football Champions | 2006 National Basketball Champions 2006 National Football Champions | 2007 National Basketball Champions 2008 National Football Champions | Three Heisman Trophy winners: Steve Spurrier (1966), Danny Wuerffel (1996), Tim Tebow (2007) - Visit our website at www.gatornet.us -~----------~----~----~----~------~----~------~--~---
