A
lot is going on in our household that could lead to blog topics. Amy and I went
to see Nicola Benedetti play the violin this past Friday night at the Ordway; the football games yesterday were incredible
(now the Saints now how the Vikings fans felt in 1975 when the Purple lost a playoff game
on a ref’s decision), today is the celebration of Martin Luther King Jr.’s
birthday (he is one of heroes.) And Chain of Lakes celebrated our first
same-sex marriage yesterday. I talked about same-sex marriage at the conclusion
of my sermon yesterday. Check it out at: https://vimeo.com/312403324
But
today I can’t help but write about my friend, Jeff Gravon as today is the 10th
anniversary of his passing.
He
was one of my longest friends. I think
our friendship started in second grade. Miss Anderson was our teacher.
We
both loved sports, we both loved to talk about sports, and we both loved to
win. In fifth grade we were on the same team in the
famous Worthington YMCA flag football league.
He was the quarterback and I was the receiver. We never lost a game in two years.
We
would compete without fear against each other.
One year his baseball team played my baseball team in the famous and
very important Worthington YMCA Junior League baseball playoffs. Baseball wasn’t my best sport, but that day I
had a hot hand at the plate. I was
belting everything. His team got ahead,
but in the last inning my team was rallying.
I came to the plate in the last inning of the game. I knew that I was going to win the game for
my team. The other team knew that
too. So they brought Jeff in to
pitch. And on the first pitch he reared
back and threw it and drilled me. He hit me on purpose. He had no shame in doing this because this is
what competitive boys did when they played to win. The
next batter struck out. His team won, my
team lost.
He was the most competitive people I ever knew. One year in grade school a choir competition was set up between the difference classes in our grade. Each class sang a song; someone judged the winner. Jeff wanted our class to win the choir context. He gave us a pep talk before we sang. What is incredible about the story is Jeff couldn't even sing! He loved to compete just for the sake of competition.
We
stayed friends after high school. He moved
to Missouri to be a basketball coach. I
went on to be a pastor and served a church in Plainview, Minnesota, near
Rochester. One day he called me out of
the blue and said he was moving to Rochester.
He had met a woman and wanted to get married. Would I marry him? Sure. So we had an impromptu, outdoor wedding at
Silver Lake Park on a beautiful day of sunshine.
He
was one of the most devoted fathers I knew.
The woman he married had two children.
He treated those two kids like they were his own flesh and blood. And then he had two children with his
wife. If his kids needed anything, whether they were
his biological kids or his step-kids he was there.
Jeff
stood next to me in my wedding. It was a
glorious day. He moved to New Prague,
Minnesota to be the high school boys basketball coach. Life was good.
And
then one day he called and said, “I have cancer.” Non Hodgkin’s lymphoma. “Was it serious, I asked.” Yes. And it was serious.
He
would come to the Mayo Clinic and get chemotherapy treatment. I would sit with him during his treatment,
and we would talk about everything. I
reminded him of how he drilled me in the playoff game and how we were champions
of the flag football. We would talk
about our favorite Minnesota sports teams.
Because
Jeff was a competitor he fought against his cancer with every ounce of his
spirit. He would do whatever it took to
win. He traveled all over the country to
get treatment. One doctor told him he
needed to have his arm amputated. He
did.
His
fight against cancer garnered a lot of media attention here in the Twin Cities. Some people in New Prague did a fundraiser
that Tubby Smith attended; he was featured on a Channel 11 sports program.
He
was in and out of the hospital. One
night while in the hospital he decided that he wanted to get out and coach his basketball
team. So he checked himself out of the
hospital. He went to the New Prague
gym. He coached his team. They won.
He went to a party afterwards.
And then he went to his home. And
he collapsed. He was taken to St. Mary’s
hospital in Rochester. And he died. I got a call about 5 in the morning. I went over to the hospital. I prayed with his family. They asked me if I would officiate the
funeral. Of course I would.
He
had two funerals—one in New Prague and one in Worthington. Both funerals were packed. I did them both.
After
he died his New Prague basketball team was so inspired that they made it to
state for the first time in 13 years.
The
summer after he died I raised money and had a plaque installed at the
Worthington Y in his honor along with a tree.
It seemed only right to remember him at the Y as it felt like the two of
us spent most of our childhood there.
I
set up a Facebook page in advance of that celebration which is still somewhat
active.
I
would love to call Jeff up today and talk about the two football games from
yesterday. He would understand the
dynamics of the game.
When
people we love pass away we carry memories with us. Today I share these
memories as a tribute to my friend.
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5 comments:
Great story about a sad situation.
I played for Coach Gravon a long time ago in 1998. It was my senior year at Meadow Heights and he was the best coach I ever had.
https://drive.google.com/file/d/1zKoKsP3kyCMkjLYCGMQ8rBzoV4KepWgd/view?usp=drivesdk
I would love to know who you are.
Kevin Weaver
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