85 Richardson Street, my college home for two years
During my senior year at Rutgers (1968) Jesse Abramson, the esteemed track and field sports writer in New York City, wrote an article on me about my efforts to win the Met Conference title for Rutgers, as I ran trials and finals in the 440, 220, second leg on the 4x110 relay and anchor on the 4x440 relay. His lead was "Do or die for Rutgers". But, little did Jesse know I almost did die a miserable death by almost failing out of college my freshman year.
Rutgers was still a small state University, relative to other state Universities, that was all male with an enrollment of approximately 4,000 undergraduates in 1964. Our freshman class fit in the old basketball arena, "The Barn" on George Street.
Part of Freshman Orientation was meeting Dean Howard Crosby in "The Barn". All of our class could fit into the bandbox gym as Dean Crosby gave his famous introduction to the class. "Look to the left of you and look to the right of you. One of you won't be here next semester".
Well, he was almost right, but the odds were even worse. My floor at Tinsley Hall housed 32 students that seemed to have never been allowed out of their homes during their high school years. Every night our House Resident, football assistant coach, Bob Naso, would walk up and down the halls, trying to quiet the floor down. By second semester our floor only had 17 students left.
I was the first in my family to go to college and I was scared to death. During the first few weeks of school, I was overwhelmed by what I didn't know and what others did know. My next door classmate, Larry Miller, showed us a list of 32 books he read over the summer. I quickly went to my room and hid my Superman and Donald Duck comic books. My only reading for the summer was the James Baldwin book, "The Fire Next Time". I think "Catcher on the Rye" might also have been on the list, but I was busy working at Howard Johnson's Restaurant and didn't read it.
By October I was hunkered down going to my room after dinner and sleeping. I was too scared to study, basically because I had never really studied much before. I was exposed to the Byzantium Empire, Calculus, Economics, English 101, none of which I knew much about. I received 4 warning notices of failing classes, with only German Literature giving me a passing grade.
One night I decided to get up (it was extra noisy), took some books with me and went to the library. There I met John Gaston down in the basement "stacks". John also lived on my floor. He saved my college career, as he pointed out how he came down to the "stacks" every day to do his studying. He was an Engineering student. I was amazed that someone would study every day, but I followed suit, set up residence in the "stacks" and was able to pass all my classes.
John came out of Belvidere, NJ where his dad and mom ran a small gas station. There wasn't much money, for certain, as they lived in a very small, rundown home on site. John loved basketball, but his size (5-9) was against him and along with being a serious student, he decided to not try out for the Rutgers basketball team. Instead, he studied and boy, did he study. After graduating, John became the Assistant Commissioner of Waste Management for the State of New Jersey. Sadly, he died of cancer in 2003.
Without John's support and kind help in teaching me how to study, I would never have completed college or run so well competitively or have had a successful coaching career.
Rutgers was still a small state University, relative to other state Universities, that was all male with an enrollment of approximately 4,000 undergraduates in 1964. Our freshman class fit in the old basketball arena, "The Barn" on George Street.
Part of Freshman Orientation was meeting Dean Howard Crosby in "The Barn". All of our class could fit into the bandbox gym as Dean Crosby gave his famous introduction to the class. "Look to the left of you and look to the right of you. One of you won't be here next semester".
Well, he was almost right, but the odds were even worse. My floor at Tinsley Hall housed 32 students that seemed to have never been allowed out of their homes during their high school years. Every night our House Resident, football assistant coach, Bob Naso, would walk up and down the halls, trying to quiet the floor down. By second semester our floor only had 17 students left.
I was the first in my family to go to college and I was scared to death. During the first few weeks of school, I was overwhelmed by what I didn't know and what others did know. My next door classmate, Larry Miller, showed us a list of 32 books he read over the summer. I quickly went to my room and hid my Superman and Donald Duck comic books. My only reading for the summer was the James Baldwin book, "The Fire Next Time". I think "Catcher on the Rye" might also have been on the list, but I was busy working at Howard Johnson's Restaurant and didn't read it.
By October I was hunkered down going to my room after dinner and sleeping. I was too scared to study, basically because I had never really studied much before. I was exposed to the Byzantium Empire, Calculus, Economics, English 101, none of which I knew much about. I received 4 warning notices of failing classes, with only German Literature giving me a passing grade.
One night I decided to get up (it was extra noisy), took some books with me and went to the library. There I met John Gaston down in the basement "stacks". John also lived on my floor. He saved my college career, as he pointed out how he came down to the "stacks" every day to do his studying. He was an Engineering student. I was amazed that someone would study every day, but I followed suit, set up residence in the "stacks" and was able to pass all my classes.
John came out of Belvidere, NJ where his dad and mom ran a small gas station. There wasn't much money, for certain, as they lived in a very small, rundown home on site. John loved basketball, but his size (5-9) was against him and along with being a serious student, he decided to not try out for the Rutgers basketball team. Instead, he studied and boy, did he study. After graduating, John became the Assistant Commissioner of Waste Management for the State of New Jersey. Sadly, he died of cancer in 2003.
Without John's support and kind help in teaching me how to study, I would never have completed college or run so well competitively or have had a successful coaching career.
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Air Force ROTC
October, 1964Joining ROTC
While in grade school I read a number of books about a plebe going to West Point and playing baseball there. I don't remember the author or the names of the books. However, I thought it would be neat to be a Cadet. Rutgers had ROTC, so I thought I would join the Air Force ROTC so I could be a disciplined student-athlete.
What was a good idea turned into a nightmare pretty quickly. I was provided a nice uniform, hat, tie, shirt, shoes and socks. I was told that I needed to "spit-shine" my shoes and "dress right". One of our first exercises was a huge parade over at Buccleuch Park. I tried shining those black shoes, but there was one spot about the size of a quarter that would not shine. I spent hours, using matches to melt shoe polish, using a brush, then a cloth, to no avail. The spot would not shine.
The next day, after only a few hours of sleep I rushed over to the park for the parade and what turned out to be the first inspection of the freshmen crew. An Captain was in charge of the inspection and as he came up to me, the first thing he spotted was that darn spot. "Five demerits for not having your shoes shined". We had been told that you were allowed 25 demerits in the first semester before they shipped you out. I tried to explain why I had this "spot" and got another two demerits for talking. Then, I got another 5 demerits for not having my belt buckle and tie in alignment. I started to laugh, as I thought this guy was just having some fun with me and before I knew it, I was up to about 18 demerits.
As soon as the parade routine was over with, I ran to my dorm, changed clothes, but all the Air Force equipment into a paper bag and ran over to the ROTC building. I was admitted in to see the supervisor of the day, put the bag on his desk and told him that I quit. He wanted to know why and I went into my story about staying up half the night trying to get the shoes polished properly and getting a bunch of demerits for my effort. He tried to calm me down, but I was on a roll. I finished up by saying if I stayed in ROTC, I would flunk out of ROTC and school. He took my stuff, but told me I had to keep the shoes and socks. I had to pay $5.00 for them.
Those shoes were the best bargain I ever got as I used them for over two years working as a cook at Howard Johnson's Restaurant on the NJ Turnpike. They never got another shine, instead were covered with cooking grease from all the eggs and hamburgers I would cook during my 7-3 shift.
While in grade school I read a number of books about a plebe going to West Point and playing baseball there. I don't remember the author or the names of the books. However, I thought it would be neat to be a Cadet. Rutgers had ROTC, so I thought I would join the Air Force ROTC so I could be a disciplined student-athlete.
What was a good idea turned into a nightmare pretty quickly. I was provided a nice uniform, hat, tie, shirt, shoes and socks. I was told that I needed to "spit-shine" my shoes and "dress right". One of our first exercises was a huge parade over at Buccleuch Park. I tried shining those black shoes, but there was one spot about the size of a quarter that would not shine. I spent hours, using matches to melt shoe polish, using a brush, then a cloth, to no avail. The spot would not shine.
The next day, after only a few hours of sleep I rushed over to the park for the parade and what turned out to be the first inspection of the freshmen crew. An Captain was in charge of the inspection and as he came up to me, the first thing he spotted was that darn spot. "Five demerits for not having your shoes shined". We had been told that you were allowed 25 demerits in the first semester before they shipped you out. I tried to explain why I had this "spot" and got another two demerits for talking. Then, I got another 5 demerits for not having my belt buckle and tie in alignment. I started to laugh, as I thought this guy was just having some fun with me and before I knew it, I was up to about 18 demerits.
As soon as the parade routine was over with, I ran to my dorm, changed clothes, but all the Air Force equipment into a paper bag and ran over to the ROTC building. I was admitted in to see the supervisor of the day, put the bag on his desk and told him that I quit. He wanted to know why and I went into my story about staying up half the night trying to get the shoes polished properly and getting a bunch of demerits for my effort. He tried to calm me down, but I was on a roll. I finished up by saying if I stayed in ROTC, I would flunk out of ROTC and school. He took my stuff, but told me I had to keep the shoes and socks. I had to pay $5.00 for them.
Those shoes were the best bargain I ever got as I used them for over two years working as a cook at Howard Johnson's Restaurant on the NJ Turnpike. They never got another shine, instead were covered with cooking grease from all the eggs and hamburgers I would cook during my 7-3 shift.
Although I have been gardening for almost 45 years, I don't consider myself anything more than an amateur when it comes to getting some nice vegetables out of my garden. I read lots of books with The Victory Garden and the New Victory Garden being my favorites. Bob Thomson's ideas on getting an early start on tomatoes helped me have fruit set by June 5 of this year, a first here in Mansfield, MA.
Our weather this year has been less than ideal with a short hot spell followed by lots and lots of cloudy and cool days and more rain than is really necessary. Despite the weather I have had some nice lettuce production and the peas have done very well, with my last pickings taking place this weekend.
My potatoes are also doing very nicely as I have harvested some early "Red Bliss" that I actually got from BJ's for eating. However, after a week in the closet, I found that many of the potatoes were developing "eyes" so I thought I would experiment and plant some. The result has been very nice, as we had our first garden only meal of red bliss potatoes, peas and Boston lettuce. My tomatoes, started indoors and transplanted at least 3 times into larger receptacles prior to putting them out into the garden are at least 4 feet tall and have lots of fruit and flowers growing. I planted my first 4th of July tomatoes in the garden on April 17 and used the wall of water and plastic covers around some 5 foot high wire fencing that is 2 feet in diameter. Bob Thompson suggests using concrete reinforcing mesh, but I found that to be too much trouble and also a bit dirty with rust. Instead I bought a 50 foot roll by 5 feet tall 12 gauge fencing wire that has 2 inch by 4 inch openings. I cut the fencing at 79 inch length to make my tomato cage. That has worked really well in both holding up the tomatoes and in protecting them from the wind and cold in late April and May, as I put 4ml plastic covering around each cage. I also bought 10 foot electric conduit pipe that I cut in half and use as stakes. These stakes work quite well at both holding up tomatoes and keeping the cages from tipping over from heavy winds that come along once in a while.
I have relied on cow manure (last year), horse manure (picked up free this year) and compost from our town compost area for a lot of my nutrients. The cow manure was excellent, having lots and lots of worms in it. Those worms have multiplied a great deal over the last year. I can still remember 9 years ago when I first started the garden and could not find one worm in any of the ground I turned over. The horse manure was a bit fresh, so I think that it may have had somewhat of an adverse effect on some of my vegetables. The town compost is ok, but the stuff is not turned over or kept clean, so I have to do some work to get that ready for the garden. I go over to the town recycle center once a week, load up a 5 gallon can of compost after I get rid of the weeds that grow on top, loosen up the compost and get rid of plastic bags, plastic bottles and lots of rocks. I then put that into a large plastic container in the back of my wife's Forrester and add 6-7 more cans before taking it home. I do about three trips (2 miles round trip) to get enough compost to cover one bed for me.
I also have an area in the back where I compost all the left over garden debris, old leaves from the maple and oak trees and kitchen vegetable leftovers. That area grows quite large as the summer moves along. I have used the compost created from that pile quite a bit this year and my plants have been very happy.
Our weather this year has been less than ideal with a short hot spell followed by lots and lots of cloudy and cool days and more rain than is really necessary. Despite the weather I have had some nice lettuce production and the peas have done very well, with my last pickings taking place this weekend.
My potatoes are also doing very nicely as I have harvested some early "Red Bliss" that I actually got from BJ's for eating. However, after a week in the closet, I found that many of the potatoes were developing "eyes" so I thought I would experiment and plant some. The result has been very nice, as we had our first garden only meal of red bliss potatoes, peas and Boston lettuce. My tomatoes, started indoors and transplanted at least 3 times into larger receptacles prior to putting them out into the garden are at least 4 feet tall and have lots of fruit and flowers growing. I planted my first 4th of July tomatoes in the garden on April 17 and used the wall of water and plastic covers around some 5 foot high wire fencing that is 2 feet in diameter. Bob Thompson suggests using concrete reinforcing mesh, but I found that to be too much trouble and also a bit dirty with rust. Instead I bought a 50 foot roll by 5 feet tall 12 gauge fencing wire that has 2 inch by 4 inch openings. I cut the fencing at 79 inch length to make my tomato cage. That has worked really well in both holding up the tomatoes and in protecting them from the wind and cold in late April and May, as I put 4ml plastic covering around each cage. I also bought 10 foot electric conduit pipe that I cut in half and use as stakes. These stakes work quite well at both holding up tomatoes and keeping the cages from tipping over from heavy winds that come along once in a while.
I have relied on cow manure (last year), horse manure (picked up free this year) and compost from our town compost area for a lot of my nutrients. The cow manure was excellent, having lots and lots of worms in it. Those worms have multiplied a great deal over the last year. I can still remember 9 years ago when I first started the garden and could not find one worm in any of the ground I turned over. The horse manure was a bit fresh, so I think that it may have had somewhat of an adverse effect on some of my vegetables. The town compost is ok, but the stuff is not turned over or kept clean, so I have to do some work to get that ready for the garden. I go over to the town recycle center once a week, load up a 5 gallon can of compost after I get rid of the weeds that grow on top, loosen up the compost and get rid of plastic bags, plastic bottles and lots of rocks. I then put that into a large plastic container in the back of my wife's Forrester and add 6-7 more cans before taking it home. I do about three trips (2 miles round trip) to get enough compost to cover one bed for me.
I also have an area in the back where I compost all the left over garden debris, old leaves from the maple and oak trees and kitchen vegetable leftovers. That area grows quite large as the summer moves along. I have used the compost created from that pile quite a bit this year and my plants have been very happy.
Walking onto the track team
October, 1964
As a senior in high school, I applied to three schools, West Virginia (because I was a Jerry West fan), Tennessee (I have no idea why) and Rutgers (because my father made me apply there). I was quickly accepted at West Virginia and Tennessee, but no response from Rutgers. Seven of my fellow students at Hightstown High School had already been accepted at Rutgers, but still no letter one way or the other.
I became quite upset, as it was already May and I still had not heard. I had seen the campus during a drive by, but never went for an official or unofficial visit. I hadn't done that with West Virginia or Tennessee, so why do so with Rutgers. I did have a chance to see the stadium and liked it. I decided that if Rutgers would accept me, I was going to go there just to show them for making me wait so long. I finally received my letter of acceptance sometime in the middle of May. My father was quite happy as it cost just $2,000 a year to go there. I paid half from my working at Howard Johnson and he paid the other half.
My track experience was similar to my academic experience. I was scared to death of the competition. I am not sure why, but when 60 freshmen show up for for the first track and field meeting and there are 4 guys in the 440 out of 6 freshmen who had faster times than I did, it makes sense to me. My freshman coach was Art Gulden, who had just graduated from Rutgers and was in Army ROTC. Hard nosed and tough is an understatement for his coaching technique.
Since there were so many of us, Gulden asked all of us to take some training tape, write your names on it and put it on the front of our sweats. I failed to follow through and that did not sit well with Gulden. One day he stops me and asks me why I didn't have my name on my sweats. I told me that if I wasn't good enough to make the team, he wouldn't care what my name was and if I became a good runner, he would certainly know who I was. The head coach, Les Wallack, was standing close by and had to hold back Gulden, as I think Art was ready to pop me one.
After waking up and getting serious with my academics, I started to miss practices during my first semester. It was December and our finals were in the middle of January, but the pressure was on to get my act together. I spent more and more time in the library. One night, one of my teammates came by and gave me a dime and a slip of paper with a phone number on it. He told me that Gulden wanted me to call him. I did make the call and Gulden told me I had to come to practice or he would kick me off the team. I told him that if I didn't do my studying not only wouldn't I be on the team, but I would be out of school. I received a take it or leave it response. He said an hour a day for practice would be a stress reducer and I could still get enough study time.
I called home and cried to my mom about having to decide if I should do less studying and go to practice or quit track. She put on my father who had a simple answer for me. If you don't do well in school, you come home and go and find a job. I guess you could call it "tough love", but back then I was not seeing it that way. My math teacher in high school had suggested I run track in college, because it would provide the discipline to get through school. I remembered what he said and decided I would stick with track and just study as much as I could.
I did squeeze in practices, but running up at the Heights on an 11 lap to the mile track in the cold of winter wasn't much fun. The Varsity 440 guys were pretty good and with 6 frosh vying for the 4x440 relay, I wasn't an odds on favorite, to be certain.
My first time trial I ran against Ken Gorman, a senior and seasoned sprinter/quarter miler. He got out quickly and would run the straight away hard and then ease off on the turns. I stayed behind him, tried to pass him on the straights, but to no avail. I finished that first time trial in something like 55 seconds, beat to death by the stop and start tactics that Gorman used to his advantage. I looked awful and felt worse.
I didn't make the 4x440 relay in January as I spent a lot of time studying for finals and I had that awful first time trial as my only resume for Gulden to guide his selection. By February, I was doing much better, gaining some confidence and challenging the other freshmen on the relay team. Herby Broder, Dennis Egan and Bob Kusniak were on that initial team while Bill Turnbull, who only ran 52.5 in high school and I (51.2 in high school) were bench sitters.
That changed in late February as I finally made the team and ran a decent 51 split in a relay freshman relay race at Madison Square Garden. I don't remember how I got on the team, but we did have weekly "time trials", so I must have done well in some of them to get placed on the relay.
Practices up at the Heights were tough. Our track was located behind the stadium with a septic system underneath the area were the wooden track was located. Every so often one would get a whiff that resulted in throwing up after some hard workout. I was given the name of "McBarf" as my workouts almost always ended with my stomach letting go. In fact, Gulden put a huge 55 gallon drum at the end of the finish line area for my use.
Outdoor season was much better, as we got to train on the newly installed Et Tut Cas, which was shipped over from England. It was my understanding that much of it was made from bricks left over from the destruction of many of the British buildings during WW2. Our first tough competition was against Yale and St. Johns. Yale was coached Bob Giegengack, a terrific middle distance coach, who served as an Olympic coach. Bob had a freshman named Mark Young who, I found out later, was a miler and turned into a quarter miler. He was tall, strong and quite confident in his ability. Mark was inside my lane while his teammate Chuck Hobbs was outside of me. Coming around the last turn down the home stretch, Young yells over to Hobbs, "Come on Hobbsy, you can beat this Rutgers guy". I couldn't believe it and yelled over to him to watch out, cause I was going to get him. I didn't, as Young beat me easily. In fact, the only time I could beat Young was when we competed out west at the Nationals.
Running anchor leg of winning Met Conference Relay Race at 1968 Penn Relays, qualifying for Championship of America Relay on Saturday.
Olympian Vince Matthews
March, 1968 Racing Olympian Vince Matthews
In the spring of 1968 NCAA ruled that Rutgers had used an ineligible athlete in football. They determined that his academic GPA was below the 1.8 that the NCAA required from all members. Rutgers argued that their academic were way above those of the NCAA and, as such, the athlete was in good standing. Rutgers was quickly put on probation and our 4x440 relay team and I were not allowed to compete at the Indoor National at Cobo Arena in Detroit, Michigan. This was a heavy blow, as we had gone to Detroit our junior year, but did not make the final. We had a much better team in 1968.
I decided to see our Athletic Director, Al Twitchell and suggested that since we were not allowed to compete at the NCAA's, could he see fit that we get funding for a spring trip to Duke University and to compete at the Florida Relays . He was happy to comply with my request and in early March 5 of us headed for Duke. The 4x440 relay team of Jack Hanley, Bill Muir, Bill Turnbull, along with Donald Kay headed south for our first "spring trip" in Rutgers track and field history.
The week in Raleigh, NC was terrific. Warm, with highs in the low 80's, good training facilities and a relaxing time swimming in the pool made the week a great experience. On Friday we headed to Furman University for a meet that would take place on Saturday. It was still nice and warm until late Friday afternoon, when some dark clouds came in from the west.
We woke up Saturday to a cold, windy day. Temperatures had dropped from the low 80's to 29º and the wind felt like a No'easter. By the time the 4x440 came around everyone was chilled to the bone. I mean, it was cold. As I was debating whether to take my sweats off for my anchor leg, I look over and there on the track, in his sweats, was Vince Matthews, ready to take the baton from his teammate from Johnson C. Smith College. We each got the baton a few steps apart and the two of us ran our leg, step in step. We both split 49.2, with he just our leaning me at the finish line. That was as close as I ever got to beating him.
In the spring of 1968 NCAA ruled that Rutgers had used an ineligible athlete in football. They determined that his academic GPA was below the 1.8 that the NCAA required from all members. Rutgers argued that their academic were way above those of the NCAA and, as such, the athlete was in good standing. Rutgers was quickly put on probation and our 4x440 relay team and I were not allowed to compete at the Indoor National at Cobo Arena in Detroit, Michigan. This was a heavy blow, as we had gone to Detroit our junior year, but did not make the final. We had a much better team in 1968.
I decided to see our Athletic Director, Al Twitchell and suggested that since we were not allowed to compete at the NCAA's, could he see fit that we get funding for a spring trip to Duke University and to compete at the Florida Relays . He was happy to comply with my request and in early March 5 of us headed for Duke. The 4x440 relay team of Jack Hanley, Bill Muir, Bill Turnbull, along with Donald Kay headed south for our first "spring trip" in Rutgers track and field history.
The week in Raleigh, NC was terrific. Warm, with highs in the low 80's, good training facilities and a relaxing time swimming in the pool made the week a great experience. On Friday we headed to Furman University for a meet that would take place on Saturday. It was still nice and warm until late Friday afternoon, when some dark clouds came in from the west.
We woke up Saturday to a cold, windy day. Temperatures had dropped from the low 80's to 29º and the wind felt like a No'easter. By the time the 4x440 came around everyone was chilled to the bone. I mean, it was cold. As I was debating whether to take my sweats off for my anchor leg, I look over and there on the track, in his sweats, was Vince Matthews, ready to take the baton from his teammate from Johnson C. Smith College. We each got the baton a few steps apart and the two of us ran our leg, step in step. We both split 49.2, with he just our leaning me at the finish line. That was as close as I ever got to beating him.
Penn Relays
April, 1968
The Penn Relays are the premier Spring track and field meet on the East Coast. In 1968, a new "Tartan" track had been installed, replacing an old cinder track that left every athlete's uniform covered in black whenever a rain happened during the racing schedule. The fancy Tartan track was green and fast. Everyone was super excited and the meet performances showed as records were set day after day.
On Friday our relay team of Bill Turnbull, Jack Hanley, Bill Muir and I won the Metropolitan Conference race around 3:10.2 (I don't remember the exact time). Back then the race was 4x440 yards. We soon learned that our time qualified us for the 4x440 Championship of America, which would take place near the end of the meet on Saturday.
To celebrate our good fortune, we decided to go out to a fancy restaurant and spend our $5 meal money on a nice dinner (food was cheap back then). Five of us found this very nice restaurant that had tablecloths and cloth napkins (what more do you need to know it was a fancy place). One by one each of the guys ordered a beer until the waitress came to me. I ordered MILK.
This order reminded the waitress to check our ID's and sure enough, the only one that was legal was ME! We all ended up drinking milk along with our excellent dinner.
The next day, Jack Hanley ran in the 440 intermediate hurdles, an event he would become an All-American the next year. Unfortunately, Jack hit a hurdle and sliced open his knee and quad. It was an ugly cut that would keep him out of competition for the rest of the season.
We had one guy from the 4x110 relay team who Coach Wallack thought might be tough enough to take Jack's place. Jim Smith was primarily a 100 yd sprinter and a hard-nosed guy you would not want to meet in an alley. Smitty became our leadoff leg, but not until he ate a couple of hotdogs. He shot out of the start as the gun went off and ran like a scared rabbit. The break line for the 440 was at the 100 yard line where lanes from inside and outside merged together. Smitty threw some elbows and darted up the backstretch as fast as he could go. By the time he hit the 330 mark, he was toast. However, his overall natural strength enabled him to come down the final homestretch and hand off the baton to Bill Turnbull, recording a split of 47.5. We were in the mix, running 3-4-5 as Turnbull ran 47.8, followed by Bill Muir's 46.8. I got the stick in 5th place with Dale Bernauer of Rice in the lead. Larry James of Villanova was hot on his heals and Benedict Cayenne of Maryland State and I were close behind. Tom Randolph of Western Michigan was a few steps behind me.
Larry James, a sophomore at this time and destined to earn two medals at the 1968 Olympics, blew by Bernauer as if he were standing still. Bernauer was a small guy and took two steps to every one of Larry's. I went streaking by Cayenne, intent on trying to run down Larry. We all went through the first 220 yds in the low 21 or better range.
Larry then put it in third gear and finished with a split of 43.9 for the 440 distance. It was the fast time ever recorded at Penn. Bernauer finished in second place for Rice, running his leg in 46.1. I had third, but was overtaken at the finish line by Tom Randolph as he ran a 44.9. I ran a 45.7 to bring our team to a 3:08.7 overall time. Cayenne completed the fast sprint around the oval as he recorded a 45.9 split for his leg. This was the first time so many anchor legs ran such fast times in one race.
Villanova set a Penn Relays record, recording a time of 3:06.1. Larry had run 3 440's prior to this grand finale, running the anchor of the 4x440 on Friday's prelims and then 2 440 legs for the sprint relay team that also won (Vllanova won five relay titles that weekend). What was not reported by any media outlet was a "discussion" between Larry and his coach Jumbo Elliott. I happened to be in the infield warming up when Jumbo and Larry got into it, as Larry said he was tired and didn't want to run another 440. I think that was in reference to the Sprint Medley and not the the final 4x440. The discourse did not last very long, as Elliott would have none of it and Larry did what he did best. Keep in mind, Larry had already had a full indoor season ending in his winning the indoor 440 at the NCAA Championships in Detroit. Plus he still had the rest of outdoors and the Olympics ahead of him in the months ahead, which were not held until the end of October, 1968.
On Friday our relay team of Bill Turnbull, Jack Hanley, Bill Muir and I won the Metropolitan Conference race around 3:10.2 (I don't remember the exact time). Back then the race was 4x440 yards. We soon learned that our time qualified us for the 4x440 Championship of America, which would take place near the end of the meet on Saturday.
To celebrate our good fortune, we decided to go out to a fancy restaurant and spend our $5 meal money on a nice dinner (food was cheap back then). Five of us found this very nice restaurant that had tablecloths and cloth napkins (what more do you need to know it was a fancy place). One by one each of the guys ordered a beer until the waitress came to me. I ordered MILK.
This order reminded the waitress to check our ID's and sure enough, the only one that was legal was ME! We all ended up drinking milk along with our excellent dinner.
The next day, Jack Hanley ran in the 440 intermediate hurdles, an event he would become an All-American the next year. Unfortunately, Jack hit a hurdle and sliced open his knee and quad. It was an ugly cut that would keep him out of competition for the rest of the season.
We had one guy from the 4x110 relay team who Coach Wallack thought might be tough enough to take Jack's place. Jim Smith was primarily a 100 yd sprinter and a hard-nosed guy you would not want to meet in an alley. Smitty became our leadoff leg, but not until he ate a couple of hotdogs. He shot out of the start as the gun went off and ran like a scared rabbit. The break line for the 440 was at the 100 yard line where lanes from inside and outside merged together. Smitty threw some elbows and darted up the backstretch as fast as he could go. By the time he hit the 330 mark, he was toast. However, his overall natural strength enabled him to come down the final homestretch and hand off the baton to Bill Turnbull, recording a split of 47.5. We were in the mix, running 3-4-5 as Turnbull ran 47.8, followed by Bill Muir's 46.8. I got the stick in 5th place with Dale Bernauer of Rice in the lead. Larry James of Villanova was hot on his heals and Benedict Cayenne of Maryland State and I were close behind. Tom Randolph of Western Michigan was a few steps behind me.
Larry James, a sophomore at this time and destined to earn two medals at the 1968 Olympics, blew by Bernauer as if he were standing still. Bernauer was a small guy and took two steps to every one of Larry's. I went streaking by Cayenne, intent on trying to run down Larry. We all went through the first 220 yds in the low 21 or better range.
Larry then put it in third gear and finished with a split of 43.9 for the 440 distance. It was the fast time ever recorded at Penn. Bernauer finished in second place for Rice, running his leg in 46.1. I had third, but was overtaken at the finish line by Tom Randolph as he ran a 44.9. I ran a 45.7 to bring our team to a 3:08.7 overall time. Cayenne completed the fast sprint around the oval as he recorded a 45.9 split for his leg. This was the first time so many anchor legs ran such fast times in one race.
Villanova set a Penn Relays record, recording a time of 3:06.1. Larry had run 3 440's prior to this grand finale, running the anchor of the 4x440 on Friday's prelims and then 2 440 legs for the sprint relay team that also won (Vllanova won five relay titles that weekend). What was not reported by any media outlet was a "discussion" between Larry and his coach Jumbo Elliott. I happened to be in the infield warming up when Jumbo and Larry got into it, as Larry said he was tired and didn't want to run another 440. I think that was in reference to the Sprint Medley and not the the final 4x440. The discourse did not last very long, as Elliott would have none of it and Larry did what he did best. Keep in mind, Larry had already had a full indoor season ending in his winning the indoor 440 at the NCAA Championships in Detroit. Plus he still had the rest of outdoors and the Olympics ahead of him in the months ahead, which were not held until the end of October, 1968.
Got milk?
April, 1968Team travel was always fun, because if you stayed over at some location, you got to go out to eat and room with a teammate. My "roomie" was Bill Muir, an Engineering major who was one tough son of a gun. He came from East Brunswick where he was an 880 yard runner. By the time he was done at Rutgers, one year after me, he had run 1:50 for the half mile and split a 46.8 for the 440 relay. He loved to eat sunflower seeds and always had a bag with him on every trip.
One such trip was down to the 1968 Penn Relays in Philadelphia. We would stay downtown, close to the track and close to some fine restaurants. After winning the 4x440 yard relay in the Metropolitan Conference division and qualifying for the Championship of America Relay, we went out for a nice dinner.
There were 5 of us at the table, if I remember correctly, as Jim Smith was now filling in for the injured Jack Hanley, who had gotten hurt in his 440 yard Intermediate Hurdles race. There was lots of chatter and fun as the waitress came to take our order. We all ordered and then one, by one, the guys also ordered a glass of beer. I was the last one to order and as I finished up, I asked for a glass of milk.
This innocent request reminded the waitress that she had to check on id's, as one had to be 21 in PA to order beer. All of us took out our driver's licenses and one by one, failed the age factor, except for me. I was the only one 21 years old and able to actually order a beer. Ah, but I liked milk!
One such trip was down to the 1968 Penn Relays in Philadelphia. We would stay downtown, close to the track and close to some fine restaurants. After winning the 4x440 yard relay in the Metropolitan Conference division and qualifying for the Championship of America Relay, we went out for a nice dinner.
There were 5 of us at the table, if I remember correctly, as Jim Smith was now filling in for the injured Jack Hanley, who had gotten hurt in his 440 yard Intermediate Hurdles race. There was lots of chatter and fun as the waitress came to take our order. We all ordered and then one, by one, the guys also ordered a glass of beer. I was the last one to order and as I finished up, I asked for a glass of milk.
This innocent request reminded the waitress that she had to check on id's, as one had to be 21 in PA to order beer. All of us took out our driver's licenses and one by one, failed the age factor, except for me. I was the only one 21 years old and able to actually order a beer. Ah, but I liked milk!
NCAA Championships
June, 1968The NCAA National Championship 400 meter dash had trials, semifinals and finals, spread over 3 days. I had gotten through the trials easily, but faced a serious challenge in the semi-final heat. With 16 competitors left, 8 would qualify by placing in the top 4 in each of the two semi-final heats. My Coach, Les Wallack, informed me that I had the better heat and should make it into the finals. My heat consisted of Lee Evans, eventual world record holder, Larry James, who had run a 43.9 440 split at the Penn Relays, Ron Freeman, who would a 43.2 at the Olympics. Wallack saw me getting to the finals. I saw one spot open with 5 of us vying for that spot, as the top 3 spots were going to be taken by Evans, James and Freeman.
I was in one of the inside lanes, with Larry James just outside me. The race got off well and I felt strong and quick going around the first turn and up the backstretch. I just followed James, as I had done numerous times during the season and managed to finish 4th, as Wallack had predicted. I was so happy, I jumped on Larry's back, yelling, "I made it to the finals (really professional)". Larry looked back at me and said, "Heck, I am lucky I made it, as I had two molars extracted yesterday". Lee Evans won the heat and Ron Freeman was second.
The following day, Lee again won the race, with Larry second and Ron Freeman third. I was a distant 7th, just not good enough to compete at their level.
I was in one of the inside lanes, with Larry James just outside me. The race got off well and I felt strong and quick going around the first turn and up the backstretch. I just followed James, as I had done numerous times during the season and managed to finish 4th, as Wallack had predicted. I was so happy, I jumped on Larry's back, yelling, "I made it to the finals (really professional)". Larry looked back at me and said, "Heck, I am lucky I made it, as I had two molars extracted yesterday". Lee Evans won the heat and Ron Freeman was second.
The following day, Lee again won the race, with Larry second and Ron Freeman third. I was a distant 7th, just not good enough to compete at their level.
The finals of the NCAA 400 meter Championships begin at 30:43. I am in lane 1, Evans is in lane 8 and James is in lane 7
The finals of the NCAA 400 meter Championships begin at 30:43. I am in lane 1, Evans is in lane 8 and James is in lane 7
Join the Army?
June, 1968After I finished a disappointing 7th at the NCAA Championships, I went back home and continued to train. I was entered in the AAU Championships in the Los Angeles Coliseum. I don’t have much of a memory there, other than I did not get out of the semi-finals. I went to Stanford coach, who was the Olympic Head Coach, and introduced myself, as I was now on my own and didn’t know if there were any options left in trying to go to the trials second trials up in Lake Tahoe. Jordan knew who I was and suggested I find a way to get up to Tahoe and he would let me train and race up there.
Unfortunately, this was 1968, and the US was in the thick of the Viet Nam war. At the meet, I had met up with Tom Farrell, who asked me what my plans were, now that I was out of college. I told him I would do what he did, join the Army Special Forces and run for them. Tom was very gracious and informed me that the unit he was in would disband as soon as the Olympics were over and return to being part of the “real” Special Forces, destined for Viet Nam.
I decided I needed to get home (despite my high lottery number of 182) and see about getting a job that would result in a deferment. With the help of Les Wallack, my college coach, I was given the opportunity to interview for a teaching job at Blair Academy.
Now, teaching was a goal I had set for myself the previous year, so this was not to just get out of the service and out of Viet Nam. However, getting such a job wasn’t all that easy and getting a deferment was even more difficult. Tom Farrell had set the seeds of my no longer wishing to “Go Army” and instead I was hoping to make the field of education my career, as well as I also had no desire of going to war, considering what my family had gone through just 20 years prior.
My interview at the local board was very interesting. There were three older men there, with one of them intent on seeing through my desire to teach and anxious to send me to the Army. When he left to go to the bathroom, one of the other men told me he was a Superintendent of Schools in Trenton, NJ and that he would make sure I would get my deferment, since he saw the need of having more male teachers. He told me the other guy was very upset, because his son had been drafted, so he wanted everyone else to also be drafted.
I still had to go and get my physical, just in case I was called up. That physical didn’t go well, as my level of fitness was quite good. I informed the doctor in charge that I had a major problem with my left eye, in that I could not see well out of it, including, not being able to read, as I had some muscle weakness (later diagnosed as a folded retina). The doctor responded, with out hesitation, “That is ok, you have the other eye that is working just fine.”
In September of 1968, I was off to Blairtown, NJ to start my 50 plus years of working in the field of Education and I watched the Olympics on my TV on the campus of Blair Academy.
Unfortunately, this was 1968, and the US was in the thick of the Viet Nam war. At the meet, I had met up with Tom Farrell, who asked me what my plans were, now that I was out of college. I told him I would do what he did, join the Army Special Forces and run for them. Tom was very gracious and informed me that the unit he was in would disband as soon as the Olympics were over and return to being part of the “real” Special Forces, destined for Viet Nam.
I decided I needed to get home (despite my high lottery number of 182) and see about getting a job that would result in a deferment. With the help of Les Wallack, my college coach, I was given the opportunity to interview for a teaching job at Blair Academy.
Now, teaching was a goal I had set for myself the previous year, so this was not to just get out of the service and out of Viet Nam. However, getting such a job wasn’t all that easy and getting a deferment was even more difficult. Tom Farrell had set the seeds of my no longer wishing to “Go Army” and instead I was hoping to make the field of education my career, as well as I also had no desire of going to war, considering what my family had gone through just 20 years prior.
My interview at the local board was very interesting. There were three older men there, with one of them intent on seeing through my desire to teach and anxious to send me to the Army. When he left to go to the bathroom, one of the other men told me he was a Superintendent of Schools in Trenton, NJ and that he would make sure I would get my deferment, since he saw the need of having more male teachers. He told me the other guy was very upset, because his son had been drafted, so he wanted everyone else to also be drafted.
I still had to go and get my physical, just in case I was called up. That physical didn’t go well, as my level of fitness was quite good. I informed the doctor in charge that I had a major problem with my left eye, in that I could not see well out of it, including, not being able to read, as I had some muscle weakness (later diagnosed as a folded retina). The doctor responded, with out hesitation, “That is ok, you have the other eye that is working just fine.”
In September of 1968, I was off to Blairtown, NJ to start my 50 plus years of working in the field of Education and I watched the Olympics on my TV on the campus of Blair Academy.
Tom Farrell, who helped guide me towards my career in the field of education.
John Novak, Lifetime Friend
June, 1968The first time I met John Novak, was in Tinsley Hall. He was up on the second floor and I wanted to go up to track practice with him in early December, after his freshman football season was over. I knew little about him, other than he was a pretty good hurdler and came from Perth Amboy. I walked into his room and saw a huge mess, clothes and books all over the place and a sheet that kind of went up and down lying across the bed. Underneath was John, sleeping, his breathing causing the sheet to rhythmically move.
We spent a lot of time together that first year and then became roommates our sophomore year at Rutgers. We lived together at 85 Richardson Street, off campus, as the dorms were just way too loud. We were both serious about our studies and living in a quiet 3 story home meant we had time to do our work without interruption.
John gave up football and concentrated on track and field where he developed into a top flight multi-event scorer for the team. He was a very good hurdler, long jumper and triple jumper, a consistent scorer all the way up to the IC-4A competition.
In our junior year, John moved into the frat house he had joined and I stayed another year on Richardson. We continued our friendship all through our college years and then worked together at Metuchen, where we again were roommates, living in Piscataway.
In 1971, I was selected for a trip to Israel to compete in the Hapoel Games where I won a 400 meter race in Tel Aviv, in front of 80000 spectators. None of them came to see me, of course, rather, Charlie Greene was the highlight of the meet.
Charlie was a free spirit who did things a bit differently than most. He was known to ride his bike around the track as a warm up and then spend an hour doing short pickups, hardly building up a sweat.
On our tour, we went to the Dead Sea and he and Charlie Mays, Olympian in the Long Jump, jumped into the water, floating along without any difficulty. Charlie was so happy, floating along for the first time ever, as he was not a swimmer.
When I returned from our trip, John picked me up at the airport and told me that fortunately my 1969 Mustang was in good shape. I asked him what he meant by that. Well, he said, the apartment beneath ours had a huge fire, with two guys dying from burns and our apartment was pretty much destroyed, but he was able to find my car keys and move my car out of the way before the fire engines showed up.
John’s mom and my mom had spent a few days going through the rubble and were able to salvage some of our things. Instead of coming home to Piscataway, John had found a new apartment for us in Metuchen on Green Street.
The apartment was a sub-rental from one of the Metuchen teachers who was on sabbatical in Europe. Unfortunately, the sewer pipes underneath our apartment broke and we suffered through a few days of unbearable smells that forced us out of the apartment into a motel. A lawyer for the teacher tried to tell us he could not smell anything and demanded we pay for the motel and the rest of the rent, but we refused. John went on to marry Donna, the daughter of our softball coach, and I moved on to Columbia.
We spent a lot of time together that first year and then became roommates our sophomore year at Rutgers. We lived together at 85 Richardson Street, off campus, as the dorms were just way too loud. We were both serious about our studies and living in a quiet 3 story home meant we had time to do our work without interruption.
John gave up football and concentrated on track and field where he developed into a top flight multi-event scorer for the team. He was a very good hurdler, long jumper and triple jumper, a consistent scorer all the way up to the IC-4A competition.
In our junior year, John moved into the frat house he had joined and I stayed another year on Richardson. We continued our friendship all through our college years and then worked together at Metuchen, where we again were roommates, living in Piscataway.
In 1971, I was selected for a trip to Israel to compete in the Hapoel Games where I won a 400 meter race in Tel Aviv, in front of 80000 spectators. None of them came to see me, of course, rather, Charlie Greene was the highlight of the meet.
Charlie was a free spirit who did things a bit differently than most. He was known to ride his bike around the track as a warm up and then spend an hour doing short pickups, hardly building up a sweat.
On our tour, we went to the Dead Sea and he and Charlie Mays, Olympian in the Long Jump, jumped into the water, floating along without any difficulty. Charlie was so happy, floating along for the first time ever, as he was not a swimmer.
When I returned from our trip, John picked me up at the airport and told me that fortunately my 1969 Mustang was in good shape. I asked him what he meant by that. Well, he said, the apartment beneath ours had a huge fire, with two guys dying from burns and our apartment was pretty much destroyed, but he was able to find my car keys and move my car out of the way before the fire engines showed up.
John’s mom and my mom had spent a few days going through the rubble and were able to salvage some of our things. Instead of coming home to Piscataway, John had found a new apartment for us in Metuchen on Green Street.
The apartment was a sub-rental from one of the Metuchen teachers who was on sabbatical in Europe. Unfortunately, the sewer pipes underneath our apartment broke and we suffered through a few days of unbearable smells that forced us out of the apartment into a motel. A lawyer for the teacher tried to tell us he could not smell anything and demanded we pay for the motel and the rest of the rent, but we refused. John went on to marry Donna, the daughter of our softball coach, and I moved on to Columbia.
John Novak on the left and Joe Prehotka on the right. Joe was a super softball player in the league John and I played in during my time in Metuchen. Joe played for Barton Landscaping and we played for Alderiso. We originally were Metuchen Teachers and then Metuchen Roadrunners, I seem to recall. Hall of Fame recipient Don Wernik ’43 is in the center.
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