A lesson in life’s priorities arrives in a packet of letters

   Every once in a while, the universe, the fates, the heavens, perhaps even the highs and lows of your personal history have a way of sending you a wake-up call. Perhaps you stop to appreciate the twinkling lights reaching across from the Canadian shore. Maybe you drive past your childhood home and recall a fond memory. Or you drive past Morristown Central School and spot the sign for Holleran Field.

   My nudge, my remedial lesson about life, arrived in the mail recently in a goldenrod envelope from Florida.

   My sister, Mary Nora Holleran Klenovic, was sorting through keepsakes when she flashed me a text message, asking if I had ever read through the cache of letters when our father was nominated for the Ithaca College Hall of Fame. I vaguely remembered the letters but couldn’t recall reading them.

   “I’m going to mail these old clippings of Dad’s to you,’’ Mary Nora continued. “Seems to me I got them from you.’’

Our father, Fran Holleran, parlayed his GI Bill benefits into a physical education degree from Ithaca College, then began his teaching career in the fall of 1950 at Morristown Central School. He taught phys ed and health classes, coached three sports, sometimes drove athletes home after practice, and earned his first annual salary of $2,300. He founded a summer recreation program for free swim and lessons at Jacques Cartier State Park and a summer youth baseball program. He compiled a 263-126 baseball record, won league and sectional titles in football, basketball and baseball, and represented Section X on the state high school sports steering committee.

     My memory was jogged when I opened the packet.

     My close family friend, high school guidance counselor, Empire State Senior Games basketball teammate, the basketball coach I worked for as a student manager in 1969, Larry Casey, had nominated Fran Holleran for the Ithaca honor in the fall of 1984, two years after his untimely death from a heart attack at age 61. To augment the nomination, Casey collected letters from the Who’s Who of North Country coaches and administrators, and Morristown neighbors and friends.

   As I sifted through the letters, the depth was astounding:

   Coaching colleagues – OFA baseball coach Jim Pinkerton, Canton basketball coach Jerry Hourihan, Canton athletic director and three-sport coach Ollie Audet, John Tehonica of Heuvelton, Frank LaFalce of Gouverneur and Don Parks of St. Regis Central.

   Newspaper contacts – Chuck Kelly and Dave Shea of the Ogdensburg Journal and John O’Donnell of the Watertown Daily Times.

  Priests – Monsignors Arthur LaBaff and Bernard Christman.

  Elected officials – Congressman David O’B. Martin and former Morristown mayor Bob LaRock.

  College presidents – Rod Felder of Upsala College in New Jersey and John Burns of Mater Dei.

  School administrators – OFA principal John Lynch, Superintendent Wes Stitt, Morristown principals Bob Gardner and Ray Kondrat.

   Former players – Joe Ott, Paul and Dan Spilman, and Mike Crosby.

  The common theme of many of the letters was about instilling sportsmanship, fair play and competitiveness, developing lifelong fitness habits, and a dedication to teaching and learning. But most endearing was fostering life skills.

    “It was a marvel to watch him work with very young children, always taking time to give them instruction and hints and encouragement,’’ wrote Father Bernard Christman, the St. John the Evangelist pastor who was transferred to St. Peter’s Church in Lowville. “His sympathetic and professional attitude reached even those who were not really very athletic. He inspired them to enjoy the competition with far better players. In this way, he gave them a very important life lesson, which I am sure has put them in good stead in their adult lives.’’

      Friends and neighbors wrote heartfelt messages about faithfulness to God, singing the national anthem before basketball games, and devotion to community and country. In death, we have a habit of lionizing the departed, dwelling on their plusses and discounting their minuses. Coach Holleran’s testimonials were no different.

   He was as mortal as the next guy. He was active on the sidelines, barking out commands and coaching his players. He also had a bad habit of chirping at officials and baiting home plate umpires.

   His All-Star catcher Michael Spilman once related the story of Coach complaining about balls and strikes from the bench to send a message to the umpire. The exchange went like this:

  “Michael, where was that pitch?’’

   Spilman shrugged and remained silent.

   When he reached the bench he told his teammates, “Geez, what can I say. I’m leading off the next at-bat. I’m not going to aggravate the umpire.’’ It was a lesson in exercising restraint.

      Ultimately, the nomination didn’t earn election to the IC Hall of Fame. But that didn’t matter. The rejection did not erase the good works and character development of 32 years, of raising six children, of instilling lessons for generations of students that would be passed on to their grandchildren.

  Casey still believes, 40 years later, “Coach’’ deserves Hall of Fame status. He remains indebted to his mentor.

   “Every single one of his teams was competitive,’’ said Casey, who ate lunch every school day with Coach. “Every single team and player was coached, trained, taught about good sportsmanship, honorability, fair play, respect for the opponents, the fans, the referees. Winning was always very important to Fran. But he knew that ‘life lessons’ were far more important than wins and losses.’’

   “Boy oh boy, did he ever want to win! But he was a teacher of life more than he was a teacher of sports.’’

   “When I was young, I thought that I knew something. When I was about 40, I realized how little I really knew. Today, I know that every single bit of wisdom that I can hold onto is not my own. Every single idea that I can hold now is a gift to me, on loan to me, from other people like Fran.’’

  Coach’s future son-in-law, Paul Spilman, a U.S. Customs and Border Protection worker in Plattsburgh, was still at St. Bonaventure University when he penned his thoughts:

   “Winning ballgames was great, but we understood that it wasn’t enough. Coach taught us to be successful in life, for that was the biggest game.’’

   UCLA football coach Red Sanders said it first in the 1930s, then Green Bay Packers coach Vince Lombardi popularized it in the 1960s: “Winning isn’t everything; it’s the only thing.’’

   Not necessarily.

      Morristown native Jim Holleran is a retired teacher and sports editor from Rochester. Reach him at jimholleran29@gmail.com or view past columns under “Reflections of River Rat’’ at https://hollerangetsitwrite.com/blog/