Walter & Me

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by Eddie Payton


  We went to the funeral home on Wednesday night to see Walter’s body one last time before he was cremated. I thought he looked better than he’d looked in months, and we all had a nice time remembering our fallen family member. But on Thursday night, the night before the funeral, I was upstairs getting ready at the church and heard all kinds of commotion downstairs. I rushed down to see what was going on, and an employee of the church said that I needed to go check on Momma. I figured she was just getting emotional, breaking down and causing a ruckus on account of Walter’s death starting to really sink in. But it wasn’t that at all. Momma was with Mark Alberts, and she was fighting mad. I said, “What’s going on, Momma?”

  “Eddie, that’s my boy who died,” Momma said. “My boy! No one’s gonna tell me what I can and can’t do. No one’s gonna take away my pictures of my baby!” Mark Alberts was at it again.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, trying to get to the bottom of what was going on.

  Momma pointed at Mark. “He wants my camera and my pictures of Walter!” I guess Mark had been down there trying to take the camera from Momma, and with pictures of Walter in there, he might as well have been trying to take a cub from a momma grizzly bear. I was on one side with Momma (somebody was actually holding her back), and Mark was on the other side. I looked at Mark in a way that said, You better start explainin’.

  “Well, your mother took some pictures of Walter right after he passed,” Mark said in my direction, “and we wouldn’t want those pictures to end up in the National Enquirer or something like that. So, I wanted to get the camera and destroy the pictures.” I couldn’t believe my ears. Did he just say he thought my momma might want to sell pictures of her son to a tabloid? Was he for real? Unfortunately, yes, he was. And I was thinking, Yeah, right, if anybody’s going to sell those pictures, it’s you, dude!

  “Don’t you say another word to her,” I said as diplomatically as I could. “That’s her camera, and that’s her baby. She wanted to take them pictures of Walter, and she ain’t gonna do nothing with them. But even if she does—even if she wants to put them on every billboard from here to Jackson—well, she has the right to do so.”

  Mark tried to start in with something, but I wasn’t done. “And who do you think I’m going to trust with the damn pictures of her baby, you or her?” I continued, my voice getting a little louder as Mark started to walk a little closer. “And furthermore, you need to get out of my face, because I’m about to get really pissed off.” Everybody in the room started to realize that the one who was sent down to break up a fight was about to start another one. They all started scrambling, trying to get between me and Mark before anything could get going. Let’s just say Momma got to keep her camera. In fact, Momma still has the camera and has never had the pictures developed.

  For whatever reason, Walter trusted Ginny, and I guess Mark, too, but looking back, I can’t think of one good reason he should’ve. Momma and I surely didn’t trust either one of them. Ginny had way too much control over what Walter did, in my opinion, and I think she even tried to keep him from us at times. She’s quoted in Pearlman’s book as saying that when I’d call Walter, he’d tell her to tell me he wasn’t there. Well, that’s bullshit. All I know is Walter and I talked all the time before she got involved. Also, I’d call sometimes, and I know she never even told him it was me on the phone.

  And don’t get me started about the memorabilia. Ginny had Walter sign a bunch of stuff to send to kids, but I believe she’d just sign the rest herself. I, for one, didn’t think that was right, sending something to someone signed in Walter’s name but not by his hand. Momma even said Ginny had a warehouse full of Walter’s footballs, jerseys, and other stuff out in California, and believed she was making a living off of selling those things. I think it was all about the dollar for Ginny, and I don’t think it was any different for Mark. I felt like they were always trying to keep Walter and all things associated with Walter to themselves. “All the memorabilia you see for sale on the Internet is being sold by Ginny,” Momma said. “Where did she get it? It wasn’t hers to start with, and it’s certainly a lot more valuable now that Walter is dead. I mean, she had a Super Bowl shirt she was asking $5,000 for on the Internet.” Now, didn’t I tell you not to get me started on the memorabilia?

  No matter how you slice it, I don’t think Ginny had Walter’s best interests at heart. Anyone who reads Pearlman’s book about my brother knows she still doesn’t. Why would someone who cared about my brother say the kinds of things she said to Pearlman? Even if those things were true, why would she want to drag my brother’s memory through the mud? To me, that just doesn’t sound a whole lot like a person who cared much about Walter, so I have to wonder what’s really behind anything she says or does. At any rate, my momma has found peace with it all. “The Lord says, ‘Vengeance is mine,’” Momma said. “It’s in His hands to bring justice if there’s justice to bring. I can accept Walter’s death, because I’ve turned it over to the Lord.”

  It’s unfortunate that some have used Walter’s death to divide our family and to do well for themselves. No matter what happens, though, one thing they can never take away are the memories I have of my brother. Those are all mine, and they’re engraved here in this book forever. My brother will never be forgotten, even if some seem to have forgotten what he was all about.

  Walter was an amazing football player. There’s no doubt about it. I was so proud of all his out-of-this-world accomplishments as an athlete. But they were only a part of who Walter was, and I was never more proud of him than when I left his house on the night I last saw him alive. It was a very special moment for me that I’ll treasure for the rest of my days, along with the priceless gift we’d given each other when we were just kids—the gift of brotherly love and unconditional acceptance. That’s a bond that even death can’t break.

  Though I didn’t want to think about it at the time, I knew that Walter would soon leave this place. The overwhelming pain of a broken world hit me like it never had before. Here was a super athlete so recently in his prime, now gone. This was a man who refused to fall, now fallen. He was unstoppable, and now he was still. It was all pretty hard to swallow. I couldn’t help but think about where we’d come from, all of our birthdays and Christmases growing up, all of our times together stealing plums, hunting squirrels, playing baseball, chasing girls, exploring the woods, pulling pranks, dominating college football, achieving our NFL dreams, dealing with pain, and trying to figure things out all over again once we were out of the league. It hit me that now it was all over. Our journey together had ended. I was only comforted in knowing that by now, Walter had seen Daddy and told him I love him. I also knew that one day I’d be with them, too, and would get a chance to tell Daddy face-to-face, right before giving Walter a good pat on the back. Father and sons together again, just like the good old days back in Columbia, Mississippi.

  We all return to where we came from at some point or another. Dust to dust. No one knows when that time will come, but I believe when it does, it’s not by accident. It’s just your time to go. Our days on this earth are numbered from the time we take our first breath. “So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts to wisdom,” as the Good Lord says in the Psalms. From the moment we’re born, we’re on a path toward dying. From the time we hit the ground, we’re on a road back home. Perhaps Walter hit the ground running so hard that he got there a little faster than the rest of us. Only God knows for sure. What I know is I’m no longer waiting on Walter to join me like he did in high school and college. Now, I’m just looking forward to the day I get to join him, and I’m sure he’ll have a thing or two to tell me about how things work up there when I arrive. Until then, I’ll continue remembering Walter and me as children, as young men, and as adults. And I’ll keep looking forward to when we’re together again, walking side by side as two imperfect people made perfect in heaven. Walter and me, standing in the presence o
f our Lord. No more pain. No more strife. No more shadows.

  Now, that’s Sweetness.

  Acknowledgments

  This book was written in part to dispel many inaccuracies that have been written about my brother, Walter. It’s not out of anger or offense, but simply to set the record straight. I also wrote this book because I have a story to tell, as well. Once I decided to write this book, I was all in. I have many to thank for their help along the way, enabling me to write a story with which I’m intimately familiar: Walter & Me.

  I’m so blessed to have a loving and supporting mother who taught me the basics of how to be a good person.

  Thanks to coach Charles Boston for teaching me the fundamentals of the game of football that I love so much.

  A special thanks to coach Bob Hill for believing in me, for giving me a stage to perform on, and for surrounding me with great teammates.

  Thanks so much to my wife, Rica, and to my children—Edward, Erica, Terry, and Bridgett—for their love and support. And to my sister, Pam, for her love and support.

  I’d like to also thank the Jackson State University fans and family for their support and enthusiasm, which encouraged me to graduate and pushed me to another level.

  I’m especially grateful to my coauthor, Paul Brown, for his friendship, steely resolve, and commitment to this book. Without his perseverance, this book wouldn’t have happened. And I give a special thanks to literary agent Craig Wiley of the Craig Wiley Agency, for his professionalism in pulling us all together and for his role in the writing.

  My gratitude to Bud Holmes can’t be overstated. His unwavering support of my family and me over the years has been priceless.

  And I’d like to give special credit to the Triumph Books team for giving this book top priority.

  —Eddie Payton

  It’s been a true pleasure working with Eddie Payton on this book. Thanks to Eddie for his candor in answering countless questions, often awfully sensitive and sometimes just plain dumb.

  Thanks to my editor, Adam Motin, and the amazing team at Triumph Books. Adam was a pleasure to work with from the opening kickoff.

  A special thanks to Alyne Payton, Bud Holmes, Charles Boston, Gale Sayers, Matt Suhey, and Mike Ditka for their patience and insight during their interviews. And many thanks to Coach Ditka for writing the foreword.

  I’m grateful to Angie Chitty, Janet Watkins, Jessica Brown, Ken Anderson, and Terry Brown for their assistance, feedback, and help in transcribing tapes.

  I’d like to give special credit to my agent and friend, Craig Wiley, of the Craig Wiley Agency. We found a home for Walter & Me at a great publisher because of him. Craig’s contribution to the writing was invaluable. We continue to work as a team, and I look forward to working with him for years to come.

  —Paul Brown

  First and foremost, I’d like to thank my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, from whom all book opportunities and other blessings flow. I’d also like to thank my talented wife, Darcy, for her editorial help and creative advice. My kids should also be thanked for putting up with a little less daddy time while Eddie, Paul, and I were dealing with crunch time.

  I’d like to thank Tom Bast for seeing promise in the idea when I first pitched it as an agent, and also Mitch Rogatz for ultimately buying into it. Adam Motin deserves a special thank-you for balancing schedules, listening to ideas, and dealing with everything else that is a part of managing a book project.

  Thanks goes to Eddie Payton for allowing me the honor of playing a part in the telling of his and Walter’s story, and also Paul Brown, my longtime client and friend, for being so good at connecting with people like Eddie who have such interesting stories to tell. Paul should also be thanked for doing all the hard work of interviewing, researching, and piecing this project together. He is a very talented man.

  Finally, I’d like to thank you, the reader, for picking up the finished product and taking time to read it, whether on paper or on screen. Without you, books, and all they bring to the world through their pages, would not be possible. And if you have a project of your own, I’d love to know about it. Feel free to get in touch with me through the Craig Wiley Agency.

  —Craig Wiley

  Photo Gallery

  My momma, Alyne, and my daddy, Peter.

  This is a picture of me and my sister, Pam.

  Walter was the youngest Payton child, born in 1954. Here we are with our momma in Korea Alley in Columbia, Mississippi.

  Yours truly, upon graduating from high school.

  Our high school coach, Charles Boston, who had an enormous impact on both Walter and me. (Getty Images)

  Before my brother joined me at Jackson State, I was the big man on campus (even though I was 5’7”). (Jackson State University)

  Walter ended his college career with 3,563 yards rushing and set the Division II scoring record with 464 points. (Jackson State University)

  Walter and our coach at Jackson State, Bob Hill. (Jackson State University)

  Walter, seen here with Ed “Too Tall” Jones, was selected to the first Black College All-America team in 1973. (AP Images)

  I broke into the NFL with the Cleveland Browns, and later played for the Lions, the Chiefs, and the Vikings. (AP Images)

  Walter and I were football brothers, from high school in Columbia, Mississippi, to the NFL. (TOPPS)

  Walter flew over opposing NFL defenses throughout his career, and retired in 1987 as the league’s all-time leading rusher.

  (Getty Images)

  Though he didn’t score a touchdown in the game, the Bears’ victory in Super Bowl XX was one of the high points of my brother’s career. (AP Images)

  Following Walter’s passing, a memorial service was held at Chicago’s Soldier Field. The Reverend Jesse Jackson and I tried to console my momma. (Getty Images)

  A statue of my brother now watches over the field that was named in his honor at Columbia High School in Columbia, Mississippi. (Getty Images)

  —

  Copyright © 2012 by Eddie Payton, Paul Brown, and Craig Wiley

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher, Triumph Books LLC, 814 North Franklin Street Chicago, Illinois 60610.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Payton, Eddie.

  Walter & me : standing in the shadow of sweetness / Eddie Payton with Paul T. Brown and Craig Wiley.

  p. cm.

  ISBN 978-1-60078-763-8 (hardback)

  1. Payton, Walter, 1954–1999—Anecdotes. 2. Payton, Eddie. 3. Football players—United States—Biography. 4. Brothers—United States—Biography.

  I. Brown, Paul T. II. Wiley, Craig. III. Title.

  GV939.P39P4 2012

  796.3320922—dc23

  [B]

  2012026473

  This book is available in quantity at special discounts for your group or organization. For further information, contact:

  Triumph Books LLC

  814 North Franklin Street

  Chicago, Illinois 60610

  (312) 337-0747

  www.triumphbooks.com

  Printed in U.S.A.

  ISBN: 978-1-60078-763-8

  eISBN: 978-1-61749-992-0

  Design by Patricia Frey

  Photos courtesy of the author unless otherwise indicated

 

 

 
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