Fourth and Forever

by Bert Carson

  I acknowledged the controller and turned to Jeff. “Jeff, put your feet on the pedals in front of you.” He did and I swung the rudder from side to side. “Feel that?”

  He grinned, “I do. What is it?”

  That’s the rudder, the section on the backside of the tail. I control it with the pedals. Just keep your feet there and feel the adjustments I make as we take off.”

  “All right,” he exclaimed.

  “Now, put your right hand lightly on the right edge of the yoke.” He did and I turned the control to the right and then the left. I followed that by pushing the yoke all the way forward and then pulling it all the way back. “Keep your feet on the rudder pedals and your hand on the control until I tell you to move them. Just feel the movement, but don’t try to control it. Okay?”

  Staring straight ahead with a ten-year boy’s grin from ear to ear, he said, “All right.”

  I smiled, released the brakes, eased the throttle forward and turned onto the runway. I straightened the plane, took a final look for traffic, lined up on the center stripe, and pushed the throttle to the dash. Bluebird began moving, quickly gathering speed. I held the little plane to the center of the runway with rudder adjustments feeling the added weight of Jeff’s feet on the pedals. Twenty knots before we reached takeoff speed, I applied slight backpressure on the yoke knowing Bluebird would takeoff when everything was right. She did. At 3,000’, I reduced power from 100% to 65% while leveling the plane at the cruising altitude I’d requested in my flight plan. Then I told Jeff he could take his feet off the rudder pedals and his hand off the yoke. With the controls free, I set the trim wheel to maintain the altitude without adjustment.

  Jeff, exclaimed, “Daddy that was so smooth. I didn’t even know we were flying until I looked out the window.”

  I grinned and said, “An old-timer taught me that a longtime ago. I was a helicopter pilot and I wanted to become fixed wing qualified, that’s the military description of a regular airplane, as opposed to rotary wing aircraft, helicopters. The Army had no reason to train me to fly airplanes; they needed me flying helicopters, so I went to a private airport near FortRucker and took lessons from a retired Air Force pilot. The plane he taught me to fly was a Cessna 150, which is a two-passenger, smaller version of this plane.”

  “Having been taught to fly the Army way, I did everything by the book. Steve Winters, my instructor, was an old-time, seat-of-the-pants pilot. I don’t mean to imply that he omitted anything, he didn’t. In fact, he added something the Army hadn’t taught me. He said, ‘Anytime you have to choose between your head and your heart, go with your heart. He noted that the rule applied to everything, not just flying.”

  Jeff laughed, “It sounds like you found a special teacher.”

  “You better believe it. Steve taught me the heart of flying. My first big lesson was the one that I just shared with you. We took off on our first dual instruction flight and he had me get on the controls with him. At 40 knots, I felt him put backpressure on the yoke. I asked him what the takeoff speed of the aircraft was and he didn’t answer me, so I asked him again. Then he said something I’ll never forget, and I suggest that you not forget it either.’”

  “He said, ‘You don’t have to know the takeoff speed to fly the plane. Just line up with the center stripe, give it full power, and put some backpressure on the yoke. When it’s ready to fly, it will fly. Don’t rush it and don’t force it.”

  I paused a moment to let the story sink in and then I said, “Jeff, that’s the way life works. Use all the power you have. Stay centered. Ease back on the controls. When it’s time to fly you will.”

  He turned to me and said, “Daddy, that’s almost too easy.”

  It was my turn to laugh. “Jeff, you just put your finger on one of the biggest problems that people have. The right way, the way life really works, looks too easy, so almost every one misses it.”

  We flew almost all the way to Missoula before Jeff spoke again. When he did, all he said was, “Thanks, Daddy. I’ve got it.” That’s all he needed to say as far as I was concerned.

  *********

  When we pulled up to Minuteman, we saw Brent and Bobby waiting for us. I shut the engine down and Jeff said, “It’s good to be home.”

  “Jeff, it’s good to have you home.”

  Brent hugged Jeff and Bobby hugged me. Waylon walked up and said, “Well do I get a hug?”

  I hugged him.

  Brent said, “Daddy, I’ll take Jeff to the dorm and see you and Bobby at practice. Thanks again.”

  *********

  That’s afternoon we had an easy workout in sweats and began reviewing films of the Fort Lewis Skyhawks. Saturday we beat them 37 to 10.

  The following Monday, Jeff began working out thirty minutes a day in the quarterback position. I trailed him and gave him pointers just the way he’d guided me into the position. The difference was, I needed to know everything, and Jeff only needed to get back up to speed.

  Friday the doctor examined Jeff again and told him and Coach Jenkins that his best judgment was that Jeff shouldn’t play for at least another week, maybe two. Brent told me later that this time Jeff didn’t have a problem with the prognosis. In fact, Brent said, “He told me that when it was time to fly, he’d fly. You don’t have any idea what he meant by that, do you Daddy?”

  I laughed and said, “I do, but it’s a long story.”

  “It sounds like it’s one that I need to hear some time.”

  I grinned and said, “Coach, when it’s time for you to hear it, you’ll hear it.”

  The next day we closed conference play with a 21 -3 win over the Eastern Washington Eagles. The win gave us the Big Sky Conference Championship. We had one regular season game left on the schedule.

  Chapter 23

  At the end of Monday’s practice, before our final regular season game, Coach Jenkins called the entire team together at the tower. “Fellows, I don’t have the words to tell you how proud I am of you and how good I feel about having the opportunity to be your coach. We have just won UM’s first conference championship in over fifteen years. That is something that each of you can remember with pride for the rest of your life, and you should. You worked for it. You earned it.” He paused, and then said, “Just stand where you are while I climb down from the throne.”

  He climbed down in seconds and began walking among us as he talked, “I began coaching high school ball fifteen years ago. This is my third season at UM. I have had good coaching years and not so good years. You have already given me the best season I have ever had. I probably shouldn’t ask for anything else from you, but I’m going to. I want it all. I want it for me and I want it for you. I want it for the school and I want it for our fans. I want an undefeated season. I want to beat Cal-State Fullerton Saturday and I want to go on and win the national championship. You guys can do that and I don’t think you came this far not to.”

  He moved back to the base of the tower, faced us and slowly scanned the entire team before continuing. “Jeff has finally received a full release from the doctor.” That got a round of applause from everyone, especially me.

  When we settled down, Brent continued. “I’m not going to bring him back into the starting lineup, but he and Daddy and I have talked, and if we have a lead in the second half Saturday, I’m going to give him some game time. All right, we know where we are going. The only way to get there is one game at a time. Now, let’s go back to work.”

  Practices that week were almost like the first workouts of the summer. Before the week was over, we shared the Coach’s vision for an undefeated season and the national championship. It became a chant, first on the practice field, then across the campus, and quickly the entire city of Missoula picked it up: UNDEFEATED! NATIONAL CHAMPIONS!

  Thursday evening Coach Jenkins came by the house. Hunk, Wright, Denby and Bobby were already there. Coach Jenkins drank a cup of coffee and said he had to be going home. I knew he wanted to talk so when he said goodnight I walked o
ut with him.

  As we crossed the footbridge, more to himself than to me, he said, “I just wonder if I’ve overdone it.”

  “Look Coach, you do what you think is right and that’s all you can do. There’s nothing to be gained from second-guessing yourself. You know that.”

  We stopped in the middle of the bridge and he turned to me, “Josh, I don’t know where we’d be if you hadn’t showed up and agreed to play.”

  Before I could say anything, he wheeled and started toward the campus, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  *******

  I went back to the house where it appeared the rest of the team had magically appeared. I was relieved to note that they had brought their own supply of hamburgers, fries and cold drinks.

  Flexible, parked in the middle of the kitchen, was overwhelmed at the unexpected arrival of large quantities of food and playmates. Someone had brought a case of cokes and a couple of bags of ice so all the food needs were handled, for a while at least.

  Hunk handed me a bag, saying, “Here’s your hamburger and fries, Daddy. I had to hide the bag from Flexible.”

  I said, “Thanks, Hunk,” and as soon as I opened the bag, Flexible appeared, sat at my feet, and with a pitiful look on his face began trying to talk me out of them, but I stood solid. It was clear that he was getting more than his fair share from the other players scattered around the kitchen and the dining room.

  I finished eating and excused myself, going upstairs to study. A little while later I heard the guys begin to leave and Bobby called up the stairway, “I’m going to take Flexible for a walk.”

  “Good,” I answered, “He probably needs a long one to walk off all the food he just scrounged.”

  Bobby laughed, Flexible barked, and then I heard them leave.

  The phone rang before I could get back to the book. I picked up the receiver and said, “Good evening.”

  There was silence on the other end but I knew someone was there. Just before I spoke again, a soft, female voice asked, “Is this, Josh Edwards?”

  “Yes,” I said hesitantly, thinking it was another reporter. I had received several calls from reporters since the Sports Illustrated was published.

  “Josh, this is Meg McKinney. Does my name ring a bell with you?”

  Instantly I was snatched backward twenty-three years. “Are you Bob McKinney’s sister?”

  “That’s right. I’m surprised that you remember.”

  “There is no way I could forget. Bob showed me his family photo album at least once a week. I knew his horse, his dog, his mother and of course his sister. He was proud of you. If I remember correctly, you were the head cheerleader, the president of the student council and you never made less than an “A” in whole life.”

  She laughed. “You do remember.”

  Suddenly I recalled my last mission with Bob. For an instant, I was back in that jungle clearing and I heard his voice, “Sir, the team has pursuit, one hundred yards behind them, at ten o’clock. Clancy and I will give them a hand and some cover.” Then I saw him, M-60 on his hip and a bandoleer of ammunition around his neck, heading for the green berets…

  “Josh, are you still there?”

  Her voice brought me back. “Sorry, Meg, I guess I had a flashback or something. How did you find me?”

  “Are you kidding,” she asked. “We get Sports Illustrated in Kalispell.”

  “Now, that’s something I had forgotten,” I said. “Bob was from Kalispell.”

  Even though it had been twenty-three years since he had died, I heard the catch in her voice when she said softly, “Yes, he was.” Then she said, “He’s the reason I called you. Now that you’re in my backyard, at least by Montana standards, I’d like to talk to you about Bob.”

  I hesitated, not knowing what to say. She saved me by speaking again before I had to, “Josh, mother died last year. When I went through her things I found the letter, you sent her when Bob was killed. I’ve carried it with me ever since and I’ve probably read it a hundred time.” There was a catch in her voice. I understood and I waited. “A year after I graduated from high school, Vincent Harris, my sweetheart since the eighth grade asked me to marry him. Before we could set a date, Vincent was drafted and we decided to wait to get married until he’d done his two years.”

  She paused again. Finally, with some difficulty, she continued, “Vincent went to FortRucker and became a crew chief just like Bob and just like Bob, he died in Vietnam. Josh, I have to know about this place that runs my life. I’ve got to know about Vietnam.”

  I told her about Charles Wright’s father and about the Monday night meetings. Then I said, “Look, come on down next Monday, stay with me and Bobby if you like or you can stay at the Red Lion which is just down the street from our house. Come to the meeting. The guys will be glad to have you and maybe… maybe it’ll help.”

  “I don’t know, Josh. Now that you’ve agreed to talk to me, I’m scared. Let me think about it and I’ll get back to you.”

  “That’s fine. I understand. Believe me I do. At last Monday’s meeting I spent about as much time crying as I did talking.”

  She laughed softly, and then said, “Josh, I don’t have to think about it. I’ll be there. Give me the directions.”

  I quickly told her how to find the house. She made a note of the directions and said, “Josh, I appreciate the offer of a place to stay at your house, but I think it’ll be best if I stay at the Red Lion. I’ll see you at seven, Monday evening.”

  I hung up and sat for a long time thinking about Bob and all the missions we had flown together twenty-three years ago.

  ********

  When Bobby and Flexible came back, I told him about the phone call. Through the years, he’d heard me talk about Bob McKinney and he was excited at the prospect of meeting his sister.

  Chapter 24

  “Good afternoon, Grizzly fans. Welcome to the final regular season game of what has been the most magical University of Montana season in recent history. The Grizzlies have already won the conference championship and secured a position in the play-offs. Today they are playing for an undefeated season.”

  “That’s right, Jim,” Charlie added, “But a win today won’t be easy; far from it. Cal State is also undefeated and they have the home field advantage. Their defensive and offensive linemen outweigh ours an average of fifteen pounds each. They have whipped some of the toughest teams in the country, and they are looking forward to knocking off UM, not only for their undefeated season but for the publicity they know would go with a win over the Grizzlies.”

  *******

  “Your best is GOOD ENOUGH,” Coach Jenkins said, “But anything less than your best, and I mean your VERY BEST, for sixty minutes, won’t win this ball game. Don’t wait until the fourth quarter to reach for a little something extra. If you have something extra to reach for in the fourth quarter, we will be too far behind for it to help. Cal State wants this win as badly as we do. The winner of this game will be the team that plays one hundred percent from the first second to the last.” With a nod of his head, Coach Jenkins signaled Jimbo to open the door.

  We ran out of the tunnel onto the playing field where we were greeted by Flexible and the cheerleading squad and to our amazement, at least ten thousand Grizzly fans, cheering, and waving signs that read “UNDEFEATED! NATIONAL CHAMPIONS!

  CalState won the toss and elected to receive. We finally stopped them at their forty. They were out of field goal range, so they kicked. I could see in the faces of the defensive team as they trotted off the field stopping CalState’s opening drive had not been easy. I knew it was going to be a long afternoon.

  On our first possession, we made one first down and were stopped. It continued that way for the rest of the first quarter. The beating each team gave and received was brutal.

  At the official’s time-out between the first and second quarter, I jogged to the sideline to talk to Brent and Jeff. “Coach, I don’t know what’s going on.
They are stopping everything.”

  Before he could comment, I turned to Jeff, “Do you see something that I’m missing?”

  Jeff looked straight in my eyes and asked, “Do you trust me, Daddy?”

  I laughed, remembering that I had asked him the same question a few weeks earlier.

  “I trust you, Jeff.”

  “Good, then believe me, you haven’t missed anything. In fact you’ve seen and tried things that haven’t crossed my mind.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Brent nodding agreement.

  Jimbo, jogging off the field, thrust a water bottle into my hand.

  Brent put his hand on my shoulder and said, “Just hang with it, Daddy. We’ll break through.”

  I heard the referee’s whistle signaling the end of the time-out and turned back toward the field. Jeff called out as I jogged back toward the huddle, “You’re the man, Daddy. You’re the man.”

  Halfway through the second quarter, the Cal State weight advantage began to tell, as they stopped us easier and moved the ball more effectively. With two minutes left in the first half, they kicked a field goal, making the score 3 to 0. After the field goal, CalState kicked to us. The kick went through the end zone, giving us the ball on our own twenty-yard line.

  I called an option to the right, took the snap from Denby, turned to the right and was immediately smashed hard by the Cal State nose guard. The ball sprang from my hands and was recovered by CalState on our ten-yard line. Two plays later they scored. The first half ended with the score Cal State 10, Montana 0.

  As we headed for the locker room, Denby and Hunk sandwiched me between them. Denby said, “Daddy, I’m sorry, that guy put me right on my butt. I didn’t even have a chance to let you know he was coming.”

  “They’re tough, Daddy. The toughest we have lined up against all season. But we’ll stop them next half, you can count on it,” Hunk added.

  I put my arms around the two players, “I know you will, Hunk. And, Denby, don’t worry about it, those things happen, besides, I fumbled the ball, not you.” I laughed and added, “But next time he puts you on your butt, if there is a next time, how about tackling him when he goes by. I’d rather deal with a holding penalty than that kid falling on my back again.”