A Thousand Words

I remember exactly where I was when…” It starts conversation and provokes recollection. Some are personal situations – when my mom died, or when I learned I was going to be a father. Those are the first two I thought of, which refer to unique events in my life that can still be relatable universally. Not everyone experienced either of these moments when I did, but most people can empathize with the situation, because it either already did happen to them, or they can imagine their own version of it.

Now think of an event that had more wide-reaching historical significance; one that people often remember vividly and personally. In psychology, that moment is called a flashbulb moment. Earlier generations likely remember when the stock market crashed in October of 1929, plunging the country into the Great Depression. Older friends and relatives talk about remembering the John F. Kennedy assassination.

People closer to my age may remember things like the Space Shuttle Challenger exploding in January of 1986. (If anyone is curious, I was eating lunch between classes at the University Union, watching the event occur in real time. The friend sitting next to me quietly muttered an understated, “Oh, that’s not good.”) The 9/11 Attacks are one of the biggest ones for us Gen-Xers. In fact, that one goes for Boomers and Millennials, too, come to think of it. And seeing the Apollo 11 Moon Landing is my earliest childhood memory.

A flashbulb moment examines an aspect of such an event, but because it’s a personal connection, it only applies to situations that were experienced personally. I have no flashbulb moment of, say, the Cuban Missile Crisis. I wasn’t alive to remember it.

But there is a flip side to that coin. Certain iconic photographs capture an event or era. They instantly summon that situation. In some cases, the photo or video serves as the defining image. The image encapsulates the piece of history – especially for those who did not experience it personally.

It doesn’t even matter that some photos may have been staged, misattributed or edited from their original form. The impact doesn’t go away. They still serve as a kind of visual shorthand for those moments.

Anniversaries are triggers of their own. The 84th anniversary of the Pearl Harbor attack is later this week, and the final 2 survivors of the USS Arizona died in late April of 2024. Both were 102 years old. This instantly came to mind.

-Toph

“Thanks, King.”

Sports fans love to disagree and debate over teams or individual athletes’ stats, records, and accomplishments. Watch a few minutes of any sports talk show, or listen to a post-game podcast, and you’ll get just a hint of what I’m talking about. Better yet, just hang out in a sports bar during a game. I touched on this topic a couple weeks ago in an article about the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. For years, I’ve listened to (and participated in) various versions of this age-old activity. As a former competitive swimmer, I was pretty awed by Mark Spitz in the early 70s. He was frequently referred to as the best Olympic swimmer of all time; several years later, Michael Phelps figuratively swam up and said, ‘Hold my beer…’.

While I enjoy the old, “Top 20 (insert position, team, or game) of all time” debates, there is one version of this I enjoy most:

The Greatest Athlete of All Time

James Francis Thorpe was born in the late 1880s, a member of the Sac and Fox Indian Nation in what would later become the state of Oklahoma. He was one of 11 kids. As often happened in those days, several didn’t survive to adulthood. His twin brother Charlie died at age 9. At 16, Jim went

Mandatory Credit: Photo by Everett/Shutterstock (10283755a)
Jim Thorpe joined the Canton Bulldogs football team in 1915. While with the team, they won three American Professional Football Association championships.
Historical Collection

to the Carlyle Indian School in Pennsylvania. There, he began working with his track (and later, football) coach, Glenn “Pop” Warner.

His athletic resume is so utterly impressive, I could not begin to do it justice. David Maraniss wrote “Path Lit by Lightning: The Life of Jim Thorpe.” It’s an excellent biography. It’s close to 700 pages long; it would be an insult to pretend that this little anecdote is a scholarly study of Thorpe’s accomplishments. However, I’m not above condensing it down to a paragraph or two.

Path Lit by Lightning – The Life of Jim Thorpe

Thorpe was a 3-time All American, and a 5-sport college athlete. He took Gold in the 1912 Olympic Games in both the Pentathlon and Decathlon. From 1915 to 1928, he played for 7 professional football teams. He also served as the newly formed NFL’s first president in 1920. From 1913 to 1919, he played professional baseball. And, in 1927 and 1928, he played professional basketball. (Yes, you read that timeline correctly – those professional careers overlap.) Oh, and by the way, he also COACHED.

There are a lot of stories and claims about him. While not entirely verifiable, they make for good conversation. When Gustaf V (King of Sweden) crowned him with a laurel wreath in the 1912 Olympic games, he said, “Sir, you are the greatest athlete in all the world.” Jim purportedly replied, “Thanks, King.”

“Thanks, King.”

His life wasn’t especially easy, though. His Olympic status was challenged because he (along with other students at his school) had played “semi-professional baseball” for a couple summers. By today’s definitions, it would be considered a scholarship or a stipend, and he was encouraged to do so by his coaches. But it served as an opportunity for jealous rivals of the time to get one over on him. He also struggled with alcoholism later in life. And he was generous to a fault. Even when down on his own luck, he was known to give freely to others. He traveled a lot in his later years, going from town to town, making celebrity appearances, working as an extra in movies, and doing odd jobs.

It is during that period that his story becomes more personal to me. In 1945, he and his wife stayed for a couple of weeks at a property that my grandfather owned. Jim was a big, likable guy, and he made quite an impression on my dad (who was about 5 at the time.) My three brothers and I grew up hearing all about Jim Thorpe.

My dad’s first brush with greatness.

 

March 28th was the anniversary of Jim Thorpe’s passing in 1953. Jim was 65 years old.

So, who’s my pick of the most prolific athlete of all time? In case you haven’t guessed, I’m with old King Gustaf on this one.

-Toph