Happy Birthday, Dad – FINALLY!!!!!!!!!!!

 

By…Erik Schuman

 

Today is March 4. It is the 63^rd day of 2021 meaning slightly more than 1/6 of the year is over.  For those counting, you “only” have 295 shopping days left until Christmas.

Ever since 1936, March 4 has been a special day in the family. It is the day my father was born. He arrived in this world in a hospital in the greater Los Angeles area. Just like myself, brother and sister. My siblings and I were actually all born in the same hospital: St. John’s in Santa Monica.

In looking over famous people born on March 4 the list was full of many “celebrities” I had never heard of. I have heard of Catherine O’Hara since Mom and Dad love watching “Schitt’s Creek” and she is on it. You’ll have to excuse me for not knowing who other “celebs” are, like: Whitney Bjerken, Niko Omilana (FYI: Both Niko and Whitney are “YouTube Stars”) as well as Austin Peyton and Alec Moore (Both “TikTok Stars”). Honestly. You can’t make this stuff up. As well as the fact they are all probably worth more than I will ever hope to be even though Niko is the oldest at 22 with the others all being under 18, including Whitney who is 15!

But, ever since March 4, 1990, I have come to regret Dad’s birthday more than celebrate it. It was on this Sunday that I was at KTLA-TV in Los Angeles, like I was most Sundays at that time. I was doing all I could to try and get a job in the sports broadcasting industry.

On this Sunday the Loyola Marymount Men’s Basketball team was playing in their conference’s tournament semifinals. The game was not on TV, but KTLA had someone there at the game to both report on what happened and a cameraperson there to shoot the game for highlights. The reason was LMU had a pair of transfers from USC, Hank Gathers and Bo Kimble and the two Philly guys transformed LMU from also-rans into a national power and the most entertaining school in America. LMU games were more like a 94-foot dash up and down the court. The scores of their 40-minute games would be along the lines of 130-120 whereas most other schools would be around 85-72.

It required the players to be in great shape since they ran up-and-down the court at a breakneck speed. Earlier in the season Gathers went down in a game at UC Santa Barbara. He fainted and studies showed he had some sort of heart ailment. He got it treated through medication and resumed playing.

On March 4, 1990, LMU was playing Portland. Just over 6 minutes into the game Hank went down. You could have heard a pin drop in what had been a raucous crowd up until that point in time. You could hear Hank’s family shrieking over seeing Hank down on the court. I will never forget the guy from KTLA calling the station and speaking to the sports producer and saying: “Hank’s Down.”

Back then – and maybe still now the case ( doubt it) – the KTLA News and Sports Departments did not get along at all. It wasn’t “Hatfield-McCoy” type hatred, but not far from it. KTLA televised the Angels games at the time and when the game ran long it cut into the “News at Ten” and for some reason the news people looked at us in sports like it was our fault when the reality of it was, we wanted the game over just as much as they did because the longer the game ran the lesser the chance we would get a segment in the show. Every second past 10:00 the dirty glances from news got more and more angrier. It wasn’t unheard of for the show to be, maybe, 15 minutes. Enough time for legendary anchor Hal Fishman to do a few stories before he let Jann Carl speak a few words (“Cheers is next”) and then the show was over because “Cheers” aired at 11 pm AND IT HAD TO START AT 11 PM!

The day Hank went down the entire newsroom was silent. We were all scared. Hank and Bo were interns at the KTLA Sports Department and because both were larger-than-life characters EVERYONE loved them. The news people even loved them. When word got back that Hank had died, it was as if everyone lost a family member. Because they did. For one of the few times the hugs between news and sports were pats not stabs in the back.

In February, 1981, my paternal grandmother died. It may have been 40 years ago but I will never forget what happened. My Uncle Earl called asking to speak to my father. I said he was not here but should be home soon. Uncle Earl quickly corrected me and told me Dad was not on his way home but to Santa Monica to visit their father because our Grandmother Theresa was dead. She died of a massive heart attack. I remember the words being like a hammer to my ear. But the worst was yet to come. When my mother, brother and sister got home I met them in the walk way and I had to be the one to break the news to them. I had to be the shoulder for them to cry on and support them.

On March 4, 1990 I had to do something even worse. Myself and a handful of others had to tell our sports anchor, Ed Arnold, the news. We told him Hank went down but no update since. Ed had (still HAS) a “heart of gold.” He would speak to all sorts of groups to try and help mentor them in their careers. Ed was in the side room speaking to some students from UCLA. One of us got him out and told him the news. We had a handful of people there just in case he fainted. Somehow, he did not. Ed has a son, Dean. I have known Ed and Dean since the early 80s when Dean and I attended the same HS. Dean is a year older than me. He played on the basketball team – the school’s best team ever! Ed would always attend the games and we got to know him because we were “Hell Raisers” at games and would cheer for his son to play – and he did. When the game was in “garbage time” and the result already determined. Ed treated Hank and Bo like sons and they looked up to him like a father. Ed did the last-ever interview with Hank on March 3. Going back and watching it after Hank’s passing was hard to do. Hank was an awful free throw shooter. Ed razzed him about shooting an airball on a free throw. Hank laughed, saying “I was tired.” It was a joke. But watching it the day after he passed was no longer funny. Every March 4 since 1991 I have called Ed and we talk about it and commiserate. The saying “Time heals all wounds” may be right in most instances. Not this one. The pain in Ed’s voice is just as harsh in 2021 as it was in 1990. And I am 100% sure it will be the same in 2022, 2023 and every other year Ed is alive.

How a show was put on is beyond me. We all wanted to cry and after the show we all die and sat in stunned silence in the back room of the set. Here was a man as fit as can be – dead less than 30 days after turning 23! Barely old enough to vote and not old enough to rent a car without the massive extra daily fee. Hank was loved by all because he loved all. Hank didn’t care what your skin color, weight, height, sex, hair color or any other feature was. All Hank cared about was loving everyone the same which is why those in the news side of the newsroom loved him as much as they would one of their own family members. It was both comical and sweet to see Hank being embraced by women in the newsroom who were about 18-inches shorter than him and maybe 30-40 years older, but the two hugged it out like they were a mother-son duo. Seeing her “disappear” once he put his arms around her and enveloped her was nothing but sweet to see. 

Hank’s death wasn’t just news in Los Angeles and Philadelphia (his hometown) – it was national news – and not just on sports networks. ESPN covered it but so did CNN and every news organization out there. There were lawsuits filed after his passing and a lot of angry words and sentiments were expressed in a situation where no one “won” – there were only varying degrees of losers.

It is because of what happened 31 years ago that what should be one of the best days of my life, is not. For without March 4, 1936 happening, I am not born. Or at least not to the parents I have and who knows what my life is like.

But this March 4 is different for a reason. My father had a fall in his bedroom in early January. The next day he was taken to Hoag Hospital where he spent three weeks being looked at from all different angles. He did suffer some bleeding on the brain and his ability to walk has suffered some. He is getting better but that is an ongoing process where success is measured in millimeters not miles.

I looked forward to this one because of what happened earlier this year and because, and I hate to say it, but the realization that the number of birthdays he has left to celebrate is not as many as it once was. All birthdays have to be celebrated as if they will be his last one because one year it will, and we don’t know when. Maybe this is it? Maybe next year will be the last one? Hopefully, he has at least 10 more. But no one knows so every one has to be treated as a special one.

I know he hopes he has many more because of the addition to the family in December, 2016. The first weekend of the month, Mom did something no one really expected her to do. She went to a park in Irvine where many shelters brought dogs to be rescued and she actually brought one home. It took some time for the dog to warm up to us but now that she has she loves us as much as we love here. Velvet (her name) and Dad get along great because they are both so much alike. Both need a lot of love and both have a fear of abandonment. Velvet follows Mom all thru the house but loves being with Dad almost as much and he loves being with her. Before his fall, every morning around 5:30, Velvet got out of her bed, went to Dad’s side of the bed and woke him up. He would get out of bed, let her into the backyard to do her business and then feed her. Velvet does not discriminate. If you give her food, she will love you! Think of the world’s worst dictators – if Velvet got food from any of them, she would adore them. He loves having her sit in his lap and petting her and the two of them get along great because they are so much alike.

Here he is with Velvet:

....................and here he is with Roxy - the dog owned by his oldest Granddaughter. When Roxy comes over she heads straight to Dad because she knows he will also give her the attention and love she needs - and he loves providing:

The reason I can finally celebrate not regret his birthday is because without him the odds of me being here are not very good. And I’m not talking about my birth. I am talking about what would/could have been MY death.

Most people know that for the latter part of 2018 and early part of 2019 I had an excruciating pain in my right leg. I went to an endless list of doctors to see what it was only to be told by all of them, “I don’t know what it IS, I just know what it is NOT.” Seriously. Yes, that frustrated the HELL out of me.

It wasn’t until February 16, 2019, when my brother, nephew and father had finally heard enough of me screaming in pain every night because I could not sleep with a pain that felt like someone was hammering nails into my right hip that something was done. They kidnapped me and took me to the Hoag Emergency Room where an MRI revealed the reason for my pain was not Sciatica related but rather that dreaded six-letter word: CANCER!

I have been cancer-free since May 20, 2019 but I am only that way because of my mother and father. They were my nurse, cook, chauffeur, psychiatrist and so much more. I did not drive a car from around Valentine’s Day to Labor Day. Dad did most of the driving. Without them I am not here today.

Last year we were able to celebrate just before all “heck” broke loose with Covid-19. This year things are better than they have been the last year, but we are not able to celebrate the way we would like and how he deserves. “Thanks” to my nephew, Mom, Dad and I spent the two weeks leading up to Christmas with Covid. It was a mild case, but it was still not pleasant at all.

So, for me, for the first time since 1989, I am finally able to CELEBRATE my father’s birthday. I am hopeful I am able to celebrate in 2022 so we can (hopefully) go out to some nice place and enjoy a great meal. Maybe we can because he already got his first vaccine shot and his second one is just over a week away while Mom goes to get her first shot a few days later.

Happy Birthday Papa! Sorry it took me 30-years to be able to finally enjoy your special day! Hope you won’t hold it against me. The fact I went to Marie Callendars on Sunday and got him a Lemon Cream Cheesecake (His fave) helps my cause and will probably “buy” his forgiveness. Until the pie is gone - which was the case last night meaning his love for me is on shaky ground.