I happened in the Miss St game played in Orlando. I believe some blood marrow in his blood stream caused an embolism. Tragic accident. ----- Original Message ----- From: Oliver Barry To: [email protected] Sent: Monday, November 02, 2009 2:16 PM Subject: [gatortalk] Re: [gatornews] Twenty Years Ago, One Hit Changed Two Lives Forever
Didn't Mississippi State have a player break his leg in a game against us just before Chucky Mullins? Seems he got an infection and died. Am I just dreaming that? Oliver Barry CRS,GRI Real Estate Broker Bob Parks Realty 1517 Hunt Club Blvd Gallatin TN 37066 Phone: 615-826-4040 Fax: 615-822-2027 Mobile: 615-972-4239 ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ From: [email protected] [mailto:[email protected]] On Behalf Of Arthur Polhill Sent: Monday, November 02, 2009 12:25 PM To: [email protected] Subject: [gatortalk] Re: [gatornews] Twenty Years Ago, One Hit Changed Two Lives Forever I'm Fedexing Kleenex, badone.. A. Leon Polhill, Gator Friends are the family that we choose for ourselves. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ From: Gatornet Admin <[email protected]> To: GatorTalk <[email protected]> Sent: Sat, October 31, 2009 8:32:00 PM 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" <[email protected]> To: "GatorNews" <[email protected]> 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. > > > --~--~---------~--~----~------------~-------~--~----~ 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 -~----------~----~----~----~------~----~------~--~---
