The date was February 8, 1996. It was going to be a very special day for Justin and myself. Since the next day was going to be his fifth birthday, I had scheduled something a little special for him. Justin’s favorite player on the University of Dayton’s basketball team was Chris Daniels. He was a 6’ 10” skinny African American kid from Columbus. After he had announced that he would be attending UD, I started following his high school career, even attending some of his games.
I had been a season ticket holder at UD for 7 or 8 years, but my seats were still up in the rafters. Every year I would check the little box on my season ticket application that I would like to move up if any seats were available. In those eight years I had moved one whole row closer to the action. I filled out the form, as always, hoping for good news. When the tickets arrived, I had only received one ticket, not the normal two and in a slightly different location. There had been a mix-up in the ticket office and my tickets had been sent to someone else.
In calling the ticket office, I spoke to the manager, Gary McCans. He assured me that we would work something out and I would always have tickets. As he worked that out, I was fortunate enough to sit by some of the parents of the players. One of those games I sat next to a rather tall African American woman who was certainly into the game. I finally grasped the fact that she was a mom of one of the players and we started a casual conversation. I came to find out that she was Chris’ mom.
It was Chris’ freshman year and he didn’t play much, but Alice Daniels came to all of the games and we became good friends. That friendship lasted all the way through Chris’ senior year when he finally exploded. He has averaging in double figures leading the NCAA in shooting percentage. He was no longer the skinny kid that I had seen in high school and was getting some looks from the NBA.
For Justin’s special treat, I had arranged for Alice to go to Dayton with us (sparing her the 90 minute drive each way) and then the four of us would go get something to eat after the game. Justin was so excited, he could barely sleep the night before. You see, Chris and he had struck up quite a friendship.
We would always wait around after the games and get Chris’ autograph and he would get to talk with him for a while. It was a cute picture, the tall black kid with the little towhead. We even stopped at Chris’ house on campus when we would be in town.
Chris was a special kid. Despite his huge popularity on campus and the pending professional career, he was just a sweet kid. He never let the fame or notoriety get to him. He was the kid next door.
It was cold that morning and I wasn’t looking forward to making the drive into work. I was just about ready to leave the bedroom when the phone rang. It was before 7 in the morning, never a good time to receive a call. On the other end of the phone was my best friend from High School, Mike Meixner. The words that sprang from his mouth were incomprehensible. Chris Daniels had died.
They were words that I could not grasp. They were words that I refused to believe. My hands shook as I dialed the phone to talk to someone at The Dayton Daily News to confirm the report. To my great sorrow, it was true, Chris Daniels had died at the age of 22.
Even though we knew we could do nothing of substance, Julia and I felt that we needed to go to Alice. We got in the car and drove to her house still in complete disbelief. Aside from her daughter, we were the first ones there. We just held Alice and cried. There was nothing else we could do.
Chris was buried just three days later and I cried uncontrollably at the funeral. I had only cried at my parent’s funerals before, but I felt that in a way I had lost my own son. Chris was the kid we want ours to aspire to. He was smart, considerate and loving.
Chris’ brother, Antonio, was to play a game later that week for Bowling Green University and debated if he could actually go through with it. Antonio, who would go on to a fabulous career and was the number four pick in the NBA draft of 1997. Through his own faith in God and Chris, himself, he decided to play. Bowling Green would defeat the number 23 team in the country that night on Antonio’s twisting layup. Antonio knew that Chris was there.
I spoke to Alice today as I have for the last thirteen years on this date. We remain friends to this day and share a love for one another that is hard to describe. She is a remarkable lady that has gone through a great deal during her life yet still has a smile and a kind word for everyone. I could not have a better friend.
I had been a season ticket holder at UD for 7 or 8 years, but my seats were still up in the rafters. Every year I would check the little box on my season ticket application that I would like to move up if any seats were available. In those eight years I had moved one whole row closer to the action. I filled out the form, as always, hoping for good news. When the tickets arrived, I had only received one ticket, not the normal two and in a slightly different location. There had been a mix-up in the ticket office and my tickets had been sent to someone else.
In calling the ticket office, I spoke to the manager, Gary McCans. He assured me that we would work something out and I would always have tickets. As he worked that out, I was fortunate enough to sit by some of the parents of the players. One of those games I sat next to a rather tall African American woman who was certainly into the game. I finally grasped the fact that she was a mom of one of the players and we started a casual conversation. I came to find out that she was Chris’ mom.
It was Chris’ freshman year and he didn’t play much, but Alice Daniels came to all of the games and we became good friends. That friendship lasted all the way through Chris’ senior year when he finally exploded. He has averaging in double figures leading the NCAA in shooting percentage. He was no longer the skinny kid that I had seen in high school and was getting some looks from the NBA.
For Justin’s special treat, I had arranged for Alice to go to Dayton with us (sparing her the 90 minute drive each way) and then the four of us would go get something to eat after the game. Justin was so excited, he could barely sleep the night before. You see, Chris and he had struck up quite a friendship.
We would always wait around after the games and get Chris’ autograph and he would get to talk with him for a while. It was a cute picture, the tall black kid with the little towhead. We even stopped at Chris’ house on campus when we would be in town.
Chris was a special kid. Despite his huge popularity on campus and the pending professional career, he was just a sweet kid. He never let the fame or notoriety get to him. He was the kid next door.
It was cold that morning and I wasn’t looking forward to making the drive into work. I was just about ready to leave the bedroom when the phone rang. It was before 7 in the morning, never a good time to receive a call. On the other end of the phone was my best friend from High School, Mike Meixner. The words that sprang from his mouth were incomprehensible. Chris Daniels had died.
They were words that I could not grasp. They were words that I refused to believe. My hands shook as I dialed the phone to talk to someone at The Dayton Daily News to confirm the report. To my great sorrow, it was true, Chris Daniels had died at the age of 22.
Even though we knew we could do nothing of substance, Julia and I felt that we needed to go to Alice. We got in the car and drove to her house still in complete disbelief. Aside from her daughter, we were the first ones there. We just held Alice and cried. There was nothing else we could do.
Chris was buried just three days later and I cried uncontrollably at the funeral. I had only cried at my parent’s funerals before, but I felt that in a way I had lost my own son. Chris was the kid we want ours to aspire to. He was smart, considerate and loving.
Chris’ brother, Antonio, was to play a game later that week for Bowling Green University and debated if he could actually go through with it. Antonio, who would go on to a fabulous career and was the number four pick in the NBA draft of 1997. Through his own faith in God and Chris, himself, he decided to play. Bowling Green would defeat the number 23 team in the country that night on Antonio’s twisting layup. Antonio knew that Chris was there.
I spoke to Alice today as I have for the last thirteen years on this date. We remain friends to this day and share a love for one another that is hard to describe. She is a remarkable lady that has gone through a great deal during her life yet still has a smile and a kind word for everyone. I could not have a better friend.
John, You are one hell of a guy! And we are so blessed to have you in our family. Love, Nancy H.
ReplyDeleteJohn,
ReplyDeleteOn February 8th of EVERY year since 1996, I call my Mom, my sister and my brother to check on them and then my thoughts go straight to you, because I will never forget your pain on that morning when I opened the door at my mom's house on that morning. You are so special to our family and will always be thank you for loving my brother almost as much as me!! Love you. Dawn Daniels McNear