Six Generations of Hunter Men

Babe at top, his son Phillip below him, his son Gilbert to the left in the military uniform, his son David to the right (in Navy uniform), his son Gilbert (known as Perry) with his son Brandon in baseball uniforms.

Crazy Day: March 2, 2012

My Story

What I Remember

I remember being bathed in the sink by my mom when I had to be between 1 1/2 to 2. I remember living in the old farmhouse that doesn't exist anymore on Hwy. 160 in Henryville not far from my parents house now and playing football in the living room, every day was fun. I remember the little motorcycle that I would ride on the back porch and rode it off the front porch.

I remember the rose bushes and my dad daring me to touch them around 2 years of age. I remember being told to stay away from the pond. I remember living there and my grandpa Jones would rent out his trailers and there would kids I would play with. I remember going to the Egg House where my Grandpa Jones dealt with chickens and eggs and picking up cardboard for him. I remember how cold the back room was where the eggs were stored even when it was so hot outside.

I remember my first bike on Castetter Rd. in Henryville and the kids who lived across the street when I was 3- about 8 or 9. I remember when my sister was born and how she was so loud when crying. I remember when I went to stay with my Aunt Nellie when my sister, Jennifer, was born and hearing about my new sister.

I remember being scared of the cows that the neighbors had and wouldn't go outside. I remember going to the friends house across the street and getting in their pond when told not to. I remember figuring out I liked girls playing with the girls across the street. I remember the old lady, Mrs. Castetter, who lived across the street and made the best homemade biscuits, when she was upset, my dad would go across the street and talk to her.

I remember moving into town after the business that my dad started, Hunter's Odds and Ends, failed and we moved into the building. I remember riding my bike around the corner when dad said not to and when caught, he destroyed the bike. I remember the kids were rougher there than in the country.

I remember when we bought the land where mom and dad live today from my Grandpa Jones, and going with dad as he poured the concrete base for our trailer and wondered, what am I going to do this far out in the country? I remember the trailer didn't have running water for awhile and we used the bathroom in a bucket and it was thrown out. I remember taking the trash to the barrels and burning it and separating the glass and aluminum but I hated it because it was gross and dad got upset with me. I remember back talking my mom and my dad slamming the bathroom door open and telling me I wouldn't be doing that again.

I remember my dad, not knowing anything about sports, yet he would still throw baseball with me. I remember when he taught me patience when I threw a fit and he threw my baseball into the woods. I remember not liking the creek area because there were water snakes. I remember going to my Grandpa and Grandma Hunter's on Sundays and watching Star Trek before we left. I remember going to church only on Christmas and Easter. I remember going to my Great Grandpa Hunter's house and the little yard he had in downtown Louisville.

I remember when my cousins who had major issues came to live with us in the little trailer. I remember when they left.

Then There was a Tornado

My experience in the Henryville Tornado .

The tornado path.

Article that's not too bad.

My Earliest Memories...Plus Some

(pictured above are mom and dad at her senior prom)

The earliest memories I have is being washed by my mother in the sink.  I don't know how old I was, but I had to be small enough to take a bath in the sink, yet old enough to remember.  It has been said that I can remember quite a bit from my life and when I read autobiographies, it is nice to read about the pasts of people who matter.  Maybe someday this blog will be made into a book, maybe not, but I wanted to write and put memories down in written form.

I guess before you can start with me, we need to start with my parents.  David Hunter was the middle child of Gilbert and Francis Hunter.  He has shared many memories of his growing up with an older and younger brother, but there are certain things that stick out the most.  My father bounced around many times.  His family moved many times during his young and life and some of it may have to do with the fact that his father was a violent alcoholic. 

(Paternal Grandparents Francis Stiles Hunter and Gilbert Hunter)

Grandpa Hunter was a survivor of both The Great Depression, but also of WWII where he served in the Pacific.  What he saw there had to lead to his drinking and from what my father has told me, alcoholism runs in our family.  Whiskey tends to make the Hunter men violent drunks.  Probably many of the moves during my dad's childhood had to deal with something his father did.  My father tells stories of torn Christmas gifts which led to a depression each Christmas when my dad was a young man.  He tells of his father being violent to his wife, my grandmother, and to his older brother Phillip.  That is until Uncle Phillip was able to stand up to him and then my grandfather stopped being so violent to everyone.  My dad tells me stories about my grandmother that after all of the boys had moved out of the house that she started drinking...a lot.  Probably to share something with the man of her life.

My grandmother was a good mother as my father tells it, you can go to http://thedaymymotherleft.blogspot.com/  to read about her life.

(My Uncle Wayne, Grandma, Grandpa, Dad, and Uncle Phillip starting at top and going left to right)

When my father graduated from high school, his dad told him he had two choices: to move out and get a job or to move out and join the military, so my dad joined the U.S. Navy.

My parents went to the same church, New Liberty, just outside of Henryville, IN where my mom grew up.  Dad had graduated at nearby Salem H.S., but he barely knew my mom being six years older.  Mom tells it that she had her eye on dad for many years before dad knew about it and she wrote him many letters when he went away to the Navy.

(Mom is on the left with older siblings Aunt Mary, Uncle O.J., and Aunt Nellie from left to right)

Mom was the youngest and probably an accident in the Jones family.  Frank and Altha Lee had 3 other children all considerably older than my mom.  My mom Elizabeth doesn't remember much about her childhood, but it seemed relatively peaceful growing up on an egg farm with a mother who was slightly overbearing and a father that my own dad calls one of the greatest Christian people he ever knew. 

(Maternal Grandpa Frank Jones)

(Maternal Grandma Altha Lee Shrader Jones)

After dad got out of the Navy, they were married in 1969 in February before my mom graduated from high school.  She was just 18 and my dad was 24.  They lived in a small apartment just outside of Sellersburg, IN before moving into the house my mom grew up in.  That is where my earliest memories are...barely.  I can remember bathing in the sink, playing on a little motorcycle on both the back and front porches.  I can remember playing inside by myself and outside...by myself.  I remember going and picking up my dad as he car pooled to work and I remember my mom didn't work because she was a stay at home mom.

(4 generations of Hunter men. From left to right: Grandpa Gilbert, Great Grandpa Phillip, Dad David and me)

I can remember having zero cares, feeling loved, and being the center of the universe.  That would change in March of 1973 when I was 3 1/2 and my younger sister Jennifer was born.

(Above is my kindergarten school picture and below is my senior year school picture.  Changed but yet the same...maybe)

(gradating from Henryville H.S.)

I Am Alone No Longer

(My mom her senior year of high school.  It wasn't too long after this picture that she was married and had me on the way.)

I remember before my sister, Jennifer, came along how I lived so care free.  My mom was pregnant and I remember that somewhat, but I remember that I was taken to stay with my Aunt Nellie, mom's oldest sister, to stay for a few days because my sister was being born.  I remember being so upset because I missed both my mom and dad very much, but was told that I would have a little sister soon.  When she was born, I was told about it, but I just wanted my mom and dad.  I was 3 1/2 and didn't care about anything other than I hadn't seen them in a couple of days.

Finally, they came home and I remember my mom telling me that my little sister was here.  I asked if she was in the bassinet and I walked up and shrugged my shoulders like it was no big deal.  I can remember seeing my mom and her looking like she had been through something rough physically, I guess giving birth can do that to you.

(I was around 3 1/2 at this time, my perfect world was over)

My sister would cry, loud and I didn't like the sound to my ears. I can remember one day after she got home that they wanted her and I to take a picture together.  Mom draped a cover over a chair and put her down and she was screaming.  I didn't like it and didn't want to have any part of the picture, but mom finally told me to lie down next to her.  They took a picture and I smiled, but I can remember that as soon as mom told me I could get up, I was gone!

It was a different world as I now had my little sister to play with.  I didn't quite get playing with dolls, but I am sure I did once or twice, but since I was the older brother, we often did what I wanted like play baseball or basketball.

(that's the first bike I learned how to ride)

We had some fun times growing up together on Castetter Road in Henryville.  We had a swing hanging from a tree and a BIG back yard (not really, but it seemed that way).  It was there that I learned about the magical feeling of Christmas as we had some good ones.  It was at that house that I was afraid for awhile to go outside because I was afraid that the cows next door would get me.  It was there that my older cousins taught me that an electric fence will go through a metal cap gun (thanks guys), and it was there that my dad's cousins would come and hang out on the weekends.

It was also at Castetter that I developed my first friends who lived across the street...great times playing every day going home only to eat and take a bath.

(My sister, Jennifer, and I at one of her birthday parties on Castetter Rd., I was probably 6 or 7 years old)

Professional Baseball Player or Bust

(That's me front row, center)

Most people associate me with basketball and I will write about that later, but my first love was baseball.  I think the main reason was that my two grandfathers were big into baseball.  I can remember sitting next to my Grandpa Hunter and watching major league baseball games.  He would also sit outside under a shade tree and listen to baseball games on his car radio.  He came from a different time when baseball was THE sport and I loved listening to his stories about the old baseball guys.

(3 years old taking some cuts)

My paternal grandfather was a violent alcoholic when he was younger, but by the time I came along, he had quit drinking.  In fact, I had no idea about his past.  I was really close with him, and I cried quite often when he died (he died in 1981 after a long baseball strike while he was sick, and he died the night of the first game back, the All Star game, I had a problem with baseball for a couple years because of that) and I think my dad had enough of that and one night enlightened me to his father's past.  At first, I was angry with my dad for trying to lie about my grandpa, but my mom stepped in and what were they gaining by telling me?  It took awhile for me to reconcile the stories my dad told and the grandfather that was good to me.

When I was little, I was going to be a major league baseball player.  It didn't matter what you said, I was focused on doing that.  What is funny is that how I got started playing was pretty whimsical.  I remember playing in the yard at Castetter Rd. and my mom kind of asked if I wanted to play.  I didn't know so I said "sure" and continued on with what I was doing.  My mother wanted to make sure that I wanted to play before they paid and she asked again and I said yes again.

When I was little,  5 years old, you started with T ball.  They put a baseball on a T and you hit it.  I don't remember all the rules, but we did have winners and losers because that first year, I don't think we won any games.  The next year in T ball, though, we didn't lose too many games.  I remember throwing a guy out a home my second year.  All you had to do was throw a baseball past a line before the runner got there and I could throw the ball pretty straight.  I remember catching a fly ball and the roar of the crowd, the feeling was indescribable.  But probably my funniest memory is that my paternal grandfather showed up to a game one time and I decided I was going to show off.  I tried to score on a throw and slid into home and was called out even though I slid before the ball go to home plate.  I was not happy.  It wasn't until later when dad told me that I had slid too soon and didn't even make it to home plate.

After two years in T ball, we moved up to little league with real pitchers and kids aged from 7-12.  That is a big difference.  I wanted to be a pitcher so badly and my dad tried everything in his limited knowledge to make it happen.  My first couple of years I could not throw strikes, couldn't do it.  But I was left handed and they were going to make me into a pitcher.  Finally, my dad watched some major league games and came up with a pitching motion that he saw that was most common.  My dad did this from watching t.v. and trying to help me.  Later at a clinic, the varsity baseball coach would teach us how to pitch and it was exactly the way my father had taught me.  So even though my dad didn't play sports and didn't know much, he could watch and learn.

(That's me, back row all the way to the left.  The Mets were pretty good, Delbert Cagle, middle back row and I would go onto to pitch 3 no hitters in high school)



When I was 9 something pretty special happened to me, something that showed me that I just migh be on the way to becoming a major league baseball player.  Looking back on it now, it was probably more about who participated and who didn't, but at the time, it was a pretty big deal.  I participated in the local Pitch, Hit, and Run competition.  You had to throw 3 baseballs into a net, run a certain distance and toss up baseballs and hit them with a bat as far as you could.  When the day was finished, I won my age group at 9 years old.  I got a plaque and a small article in the paper.  I can remember how proud my dad was and he didn't show that as often as I wanted.  I was immature, but trying to replicate that is what drove me to be successful and win trophies, hoping my father would be proud.  I got to advance to the next level and participate at the old Derby field on the U of L campus, I never heard how I did, but I figured if I won there, they would have told me.  The next year, I went to participate and I will just say that I didn't win and that was the end of my Pitch, Hit, and Run days.

(My handwriting says it all, Jeffersonville Mayor Vissing and me in May of 1979, I remember that it was raining and a little cool for a May day.)

I had that success at 9, I got better, but it was when I was 10-12 that I became one of the best pitchers in little league.  My teams won some championships and my most prized accomplishment was pitching a no-hitter when I was ten years old.  It was vs. the Astros and I played for the Mets.  Because I loved baseball and the history, I knew what I was accomplishing.  The last out was a line drive right over my head.  I reached my glove up and didn't know for sure what happened, I brought the glove down and saw the ball.  I had done what Sandy Koufax and Nolan Ryan had accomplished.  All of the players came and mobbed me and it was pretty cool, I got the ball, and when I went around the corner and saw my mom and I said "I did it".

(All star...around 12 years old)

From there we moved onto Babe Ruth which was played on regulation baseball fields.  It took some adjustment, but I was able to still be an effective pitcher.  It was about then that I realized that even though I was a pretty good pitcher, I didn't throw that hard.  If I wasn't the best baseball player in Henryville, I was probably not going to make it to the majors.  The dying of a dream was a hard thing to swallow, but I realized it wasn't going to happen.  By then I was getting into basketball and having success and that helped to ease the blow.

(This is the Babe Ruth team where we understood we were going to be good in high school.  That team was coached by Dave Badger, back row left who was just one of those positive people that you have in your young life that you don't appreciate until you are older.  I am front row to the left with the cool prescription sunglasses.  By now I was virtually blind without glasses or contacts.)

In Babe Ruth though, we realized that we were pretty good as a team.  That if we stayed together, we were going to have a very good high school team.  The high school coach Terry Rademacher was building Henryville's baseball program when we got there.  My 8th grade year they won 14 games and everybody thought it was amazing.  The freshmen that year were kids we had played with in Babe Ruth and little league and when my class combined with them and the class ahead, HHS baseball experienced its beginning of being considered one of the top small school baseball programs in southeast Indiana.  We went 16-8, 17-5, 22-2, and 21-2 in our four years.  We ranked as high as 8th in the entire state of Indiana my junior year when we went 22-2.  It was that year I was diagnosed with mono and didn't get to play in many games, but I became a very good first base coach which helped in my future coaching career.

My senior year, we weren't supposed to be as good and we weren't.  Instead of just destroying people, we won many close games.  But we still won and it was probably because teams didn't think they could beat us.  That year, I got a pitching win vs. Scottsburg.  Fellow senior Joe Martin pitched 8 2/3 innings with the score tied, I came in and got one out in the top of the 9th to stop a rally Scottsburg had.  We were down 2 going into the bottom of the 9th.  High school games were 7 innings so we had gone two innings extra.  I don't remember how many outs there were, but I remember two guys being on and I went up to the plate thinking, I am going to try and hit this one out.  My senior year was by far my best hitting year at .388, but on the first strike I swung and missed.  I can't remember the actual count, but on the second pitch I swung at, I swung hard, which I usually didn't do, and hit a 3 run home run to help us win the game.  So game winning homerun and a W on the mound getting 1 out. 

Also that year, we played at Silver Creek, our arch rivals.  Coach told me I was going to pitch and I threw a no hitter then and we beat them easily.  They moved us to a different sectional that year at Seymour, we drew Seymour and Seymour defeated us and went on to win the state championship.  At Jeffersonville, our old sectional, Silver Creek won the sectional, a team we had defeated easily.

It was after that I started helping Coach Rademacher and at the little league coaching.  I finally helped Henryville's current Coach Jeff Schroeder for a couple years then became a varsity baseball coach at New Washington for two years going 15-33 in two years.  The first year we weren't very good, but defeated Shawe Memorial in the first round of the baseball sectional, the first win for New Washington in post season baseball in many years.  We got pounded that night against a good Scottsburg team in the championship.  The next year we were better and defeated Austin in the sectional before losing to Scottsburg in the semis.  That was all in one class.  The next year led by Mike Voyles who went on to play D1 baseball at Murray State, they won the new class 1A baseball sectional but I was gone.

After that I went to Eastern Pekin to be an assistant, I needed a teaching job and I didn't get one, but a type of job that paid health insurance.  That group wasn't very good, but that group of freshman went on to be 2A state runner ups when they were seniors.  In 1999, I decided I wanted to go back to being a varsity coach and went to Borden.  We had some good players but about two weeks away from basketball season being over, our best player/pitcher was expelled from school and a team that had the possibilty to be good wasn't very good at all.  We went 4-14, career record now 19-47, but one of those wins was in the semis vs. New Washington of the sectional getting us to the final vs. Henryville.  Henryville run ruled us and won their first boys' sectional in any sport.

(The 02 HHS baseball team, I don't think there is any debating that this team, along with 1987 are the two best baseball teams ever at Henryville.  I am all the way to the right next to Coach Jeff Schroeder who is #14)

After that season, I got a full fledged teaching position at Henryville and I went back to being an assistant.  The teams we had there were very good by far the two best were 2001 and 2002.  2001 lost 5 or 6 games and all but one of those losses were to teams that played in the state finals of their respective class.  In 2002, we went 25-2 and just kicked the crap out of people.  Every team after that was pretty good with a hiccup in 2010, but I decided in 2011 that being varsity basketball coach and helping with baseball was taking too much time away from my family, so I "retired" for this past season.

(The 2003 HHS baseball team, one of the very good teams I helped Jeff Schroeder coach while helping at HHS.  That is me, back row all the way to the right to the left of Coach Schroeder.)

So it brings me full circle, I guess.  Now I am watching my daughter play "coach pitch" baseball which is for 6 year olds.  She loves it, but I have watched her pitch, hit, run and slide.  I love it.  I love sitting on the side and watching her play.  I didn't coach, but I probably should, but I want to be dad to both of my kids.  I want to be the guy who helps them excel at home and then sits in the stands or paces to watch them play.  I guess we shall see what the future holds.

So that is my first love, baseball.  There is something about the smell of the baseball, the glove, the freshly cut grass.  There is something about the precision of the game geometrically and the small things you have to do well to be successful.  There is a respect for a game that has been passed down from my grandfather, to my uncle, to me, and then onto my children.  I love baseball, it what introduced me to the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat.

Basketball......Player

(1st basketball team in 5th grade.  That's me 4th from the right)

There was a basketball goal in the front of the school, in the parking lot.  That parking lot is where we used to have 4th grade recess.  We did all kinds of things, mostly kicking a ball back and forth and trying to catch it, or playing basketball on that goal.  We were playing one day when a classmate of mine, David Moore, asked me if was going to play and I said "why not?".  I was ready to go, but he told me I couldn't play until the next year.  So as with baseball, it was kind of a flippant, non-chalant "sure" when it came to starting to play.

In 5th grade, I remember being scared to death because they were going to make cuts.  We had tryouts and they called my name early, I guess that meant I was good enough because I ended up starting a lot that year.  But I can remember being scared to death that I would get cut, but I can also remember how bad I felt for the kids whose names were not called.  I still remember how upset some of them were and I can remember how bad the coach felt.

My 5th grade coach was Terry Bottorff, he was an intense man and would compete at everything.  That first game we played St. Joe at home and won 19-18.  I was so excited, I ran and jumped into my coaches arms like we had won a state championship or something.  It was an intense game and when it was over...it was relief.  We didn't win many games that year or the next year in 6th grade, but we were beginning to play.


(6th grade, I am front row, second from left...#6 after Dr. J)

 By 6th grade, I was probably the best player in our class, but other guys  might make the argument they were.  I don't remember much about the games, but I remember yelling at a referee and my father getting on me pretty when I got home, and I remember thinking I was pretty hot stuff...and I wasn't really.  The bigger I thought I was and the harder I played, the worse I was, I was learning to be humble.



(7th grade, I am #3.  This team was pretty good, Jim Martin #25 was a man amongst boys)

 By 7th grade, I had gotten pretty good.  I remember our coach Rick Belcher thought I was pretty good and even had some older guys come in to show them how good I was.  I remember back talking him a few times and he smiled.  It was the last time I did that because I knew it wasn't right to do so.  That year, we did win a bunch of games and were on our way....so we thought.

In 8th grade, we started off very well, but suddenly we started playing teams that had caught up to us physically and we struggled, I struggled.  I did make our all tourney team with Jamie and Scott Matthews from NW, both would play college basketball, John Deaton from Austin and Bobby Coomer from Scottsburg.

I decided that I was going to rededicate myself to getting better.  I wanted to play varsity as a freshman, but that wouldn't happen.  I did start j.v. most every game as a freshman, but we had a couple of senior guards on a 14-7 team.  I wish I had dressed varsity as a freshman, but the coaches didn't see fit to, I think it was because we had a few junior guards on the j.v. and it was going to keep them happy or it could have been I wasn't good or strong enough.

(That's me, third row from the bottom, all the wa to the right at Hanover College basketball camp)



I went to Hanover College basketball camp that summer before 9th grade and really improved my jump shot.  I went on to have a good freshman season on the j.v. and then made the varsity as a sophomore.  I would end up starting most all of the games as a sophomore on a 12-9 team.  Senior Kevin Robertson was on that team and probably the best player I played with in high school.  I noticed my freshman year, but it was my sophomore year when I started to notice jealousy from some of my classmates who played.  Things like spitting on my stuff, tying my shoes together, isolating me.  At that time I was pretty upset about it, but realize now that it made me a better person.

As a junior, we dropped to 10-11 and didn't seem to click.  Some in the community say it was because we had too many selfish players, maybe, it might have been the other teams on our schedule were pretty good.  I did make all conference.



(12-10 Floyd Sectional runner ups my senior year, that's me front row all the way to the right)

My senior year, we probably over achieved if we under achieved my junior year.  That year we did have seven seniors, but weren't all that athletic, but we were smart and did what our coach told us to do.  I was the leading scorer, made all conference and all sectional.  We got a good draw in the one class sectional at Floyd Central in that we drew Borden another small school. We had beaten them twice in close games and we thought we were much better than them, but they were pretty excited to be playing us.  I took it personally, I thought we were much better and I scored a bunch of points early and the game was over at halftime.

That got us into the final against the host team, Floyd Central.  That FC team was good, but were mostly juniors.  The next year they would go to the State Finals and Pat Graham would be named Mr. Basketball.  They jumped out on us and were up 10-0 and we called a timeout.  We kept it within 20 for most of the game and actually made a run and cut it to 12, I think, with the ball late in the fourth.  They pulled away and won by 20+.  I finished with a career high 33 points in my last game. 

One thing I don't think I put into perspective was how much not just basketball, but Henryville basketball meant to me.  My mom had me in October and I started going to games in November.  I have been to games ever since.  All I wanted to do was play for Henryville.  When I played games as a kid, I rarely was an IU Hoosier or a Boston Celtic, but I was a Henryville Hornet.  Towards the end of that last game in the sectional final, I fouled out.  I started to cry...I knew it was over.  My mom and others told me later that I got a standing ovation as I walked off the floor, I had gotten pretty hot in bringing us back on that little run, and I sat down and hid my head into my towel.  I had people pat me on the back, but I was inconsolable especially when I got into the locker room.  It was then that it hit me even more...it was over.  I would never put that uniform on again.  I had people ask me what was wrong and all I could say was "it's over".

I had a couple of offers to go play basketball in college, I remember a letter from Wooster in Ohio, but it was to attend college there and pay my own way.  Now that I am older, I understand that was an honor, but at the time, if I were going to pay my way, I was going to stay closer to home.  Which I did and attended IU Southeast in New Albany.  I was asked to walk on the baseball team, but heard nothing about basketball.  It was very hard to deal with.  I played intramurals, but it wasn't the same. 

Probably the hardest part was standing in line that next year to buy a ticket to an event that I had participated in for the last four years.  I gave my heart and soul to it especially in my last game, and yet there I was buying a ticket.  My old high school coach had gotten fired that summer and the guy that took over wasn't exactly of the same mold....and you could tell.

I watched as the program that I grew up in and was a part of became a mockery.  Not only did they lose, they lost by a lot and players quit through the year because of the mockery it had become.  Of course, I was biased in thinking that my coach and the coach before him did things the right way, the only way.  I couldn't understand why this new guy would do what he did.  Now that I am older I understand: first, he wasn't a very good coach and second he got angry and defiant and was going to do it his way no matter what...he lasted one year.

My high school coaches, this guy right after I graduated, and the next guy influenced what I would do in the future when it came to basketball.  To be honest, I never thought about being a basketball coach, but I had dropped out of college (will get into that later) and was looking for direction in a life that seemed to be drifting.  One evening I stopped by Henryville's open gym and what happened next changed my life.

Basketball.......Coach

The varsity basketball coach at Henryville at this time in 1992 was John Bradley.  He was a great guy who had coached at our arch rival Silver Creek when I was playing at Henryville.  He remembered me, appreciated the support I had given him as coach and as I was standing there watching the guys play, he stopped and asked me what I was up to.  When I told him, he offered me the freshman coaching job...I was overwhelmed and didn't think I could do it.  He told me to take 24 hours and think about it and get back to him. 

I went home, thought, and got back with him and accepted the job.  And I was a complete nut...thinking I was my high school coach.  I messed up a ton that year, but we were successful, I sat on the bench with the varsity and it motivated me to get back into college.  I would get my teaching license so I could continue to coach.  Coach Bradley had given me an opportunity and I figured out what direction to point my life.

It wasn't long after I started coaching basketball at HHS that I got back into college.  I had started college right out of high school and thought I was semi intelligent, I wasn't ready for the demands of actually studying.  I flunked a couple of classes and I can still remember the day I got my big paper in a political science class...it was an "F" meaning that a class I had tried to re-take, I had flunked again.  I told my friend, Brian Seale, "I am finished".  I was not going back.  It wasn't until I started coaching that I had the motivation to get back to college and get a degree because I wanted to coach and to do that, you had to have a teaching license.  Plus, I had worked some really bad jobs, jobs I couldn't see myself doing for the rest of my life.  United Parcel Service gave me a steady income, health insurance, and a great experience, but it also gave me a bad back and too much stress that I didn't want to stay there forever.

I went back to college, worked at the YMCA and other places that had children involved so that I could build a resume, but I coached.  I have talked about coaching baseball, but basketball is where I started to get driven to be successful.  I was the freshman coach at HHS for three years from 1992 to 1995 and won more games than I lost and helped with the varsity.

In 1995 while working at the YMCA, New Washington HS needed a varsity baseball coach, so I applied, interviewed and got it, but I had to leave my alma mater and coach the freshman team as well.  I was told that it was part of the job.  So, I went to NW for two years and learned from Jim Matthews.  Coach Matthews and his wife Sug were very good to me while there and I learned a ton about basketball.  The most important thing I learned was that this was the 4th varsity coach I had been around and the 3rd different way I had seen things done.  It was starting to reinforce that there wasn't just one way to coach basketball.

(That's me to the far right as an assistant to Jim Matthews at New Washington High School)

 After 1997, I had graduated from IU Southeast and was looking for a teaching job.  I couldn't find one, but Brad Bastian from Eastern Pekin called and said they had a special needs Asst./P.E. Assistant/permanent sub position at his school.  Brad is from NW and I had known him for awhile.  I took that job and the best part was that I now had health insurance.  I coached 6th grade basketball there and coached them not much differently than I coach the varsity today and I helped with the varsity and seeing how Tom Cullen did things there.



(1998-99 season when I was the J.V. coach at Borden H.S. assisting Dennis Holt.  Holt was the varsity coach when I was a freshman at Henryville)

After that year, I took a special needs position at Borden HS with Dennis Holt as the varsity coach. Coach Holt was the varsity boys coach at HHS when I was a freshman and the girls varsity coach was Terry Rademacher, my coach at HHS. Borden was going to have a social studies job open and that was my degree, so I hoped that I could go there and be the JV basketball coach and baseball coach and that they would hire me.  We didn't win many games in either sport that year, but they did offer me the teaching job towards the end of the school year.  The only problem to that was that a job had opened at Henryville and a couple of highly influential people from my childhood had contacted me about taking that job.  I wasn't going to take it unless a good baseball coach was hired at Borden when I left which happened in Eric Stotts.

(I coached this group in 8th grade and we went 17-2.  They would go on as seniors to win the first boys' basketball sectional in Henryville High School history.)

Once I knew that I wasn't leaving them without a baseball coach, I took the teaching job at Henryville.  I would be the 8th grade/freshman coach again under John Bradley, then when he resigned, I moved up to the JV job under Jack Brooks.  During those year, we had pretty good teams and sometimes we didn't with the groups I was coaching.  My first two JV teams won 27 games in 2 years out of 40, but my last JV team won 4 games.  We weren't very good.  During that summer, I helped with the varsity and then something happened slightly unexpected, Coach Brooks resigned.  We can go into why some place else, but the varsity job was open.  I asked Coach Brooks if he minded if I applied and he said he didn't that it was wide open.  I know many people won't believe this, but if he had said no not to apply, I wouldn't have.



(This is the group as seniors that I had coached in 8th grade after HHS 1st boys' basketball sectional title)

So, finally, I was going to get the job I had wanted since starting to coach under John Bradley all those years ago.  What is funny is that I had all the answers when I was an assistant, suddenly I had the weight of the whole program on my shoulders and wondering if I were doing the right thing.


(08-09 team that went 15-8 and won part of the SAC championship)

 My first year, we overachieved going 10-11 with a group of kids that were all shorter than me (I am 6'1").  The second year we went 12-11 and was sectional runner up to a very good Lanesville team.  My third year, we struggled, but tied for the conference championship.  My 4th year we went 15-8 and won the conference.  In 2010, we probably overachieved with a winning record and sectional runner up.  Last year we went 5-16 and probably learned more about life that year than at any other time.

In coaching basketball, I have learned a lot, mostly from the kids.  But, I have learned from every coach I have been around, some as assistants and others from observing and talking with them.  I have learned some things that I want to do and also learned many things I would never do.  That learning has taken place both on and off the court.  It has dealt with both basketball and life.

Basketball has been very good to me.  It made me known enough to be offered coaching positions at two different schools; it made me aware of what I wanted to do with my life (teaching); it gave me something that I shared with my wife as she had played before too; it has given me the opportunity to meet many good people; it has allowed me to travel all over the state, country and parts of Europe; and it is now giving my children a place in the world with their gaining love of basketball or at least the periphery of basketball.  I could never give back enough to the great game that has given me so much.

(Working the Junior Camp in Lake Ohrid, Macedonia)



(Italian Luigi Gresta, Spaniard Israel Martin, Serbian Goran Miljevic, Maceodonian Borce Ilievski and me at the Tindastoll Camp in Saudrakrokur, Iceland)



(Tane Spasev of Macedonia, Simas Suzinskas of Lithuania and me at the Aleksandar Nikolic camp in Zlatibor, Serbia)

History Student to History Teacher

(Me with U.S. Senator from Indiana Dick Lugar.  I was walking through the mall with my mom and I passed by him.  I followed him to the book store where he was signing his new book "Letters to the Next President" to help with foreign affairs.  I was actually bold enough to tell him that some day I wanted to take his job.  I decided to teach history instead of make history.)

I can remember in the 4th grade when I decided that I had a knack for remembering history and it helped me lean towards liking it.  We had Indiana history that year and I could read or listen to what my teacher said and remember it.  I also could start talking about an issue, knowing little about it, and talk my way to into a coherent answer.

It was in junior high U.S. history when I learned that I could just listen to my teacher talk about history and I could remember the info for the test.  Better yet, it was like I could take pictures with my mind of the notes and during the test, I could go to that part of the notes and remember it.  It was almost like cheating.

In 1976, when I was in kindergarten, we had a mock election for President.  Ford vs. Carter.  Then in 1980 I started watching the political conventions and have been interested in current events as well as history. 

In high school, I had a teacher or two that helped draw out my interest in history and government.  I was able to ask questions and get discussions going on history and current events.  It was a competition sometimes to see if I could get the teacher to talk the whole 50 minute period instead of doing what was planned.  The thing was though I was getting the teacher off subject, I was still learning.  I have tried to carry that style of learning into my style as a teacher.

In college, it was even easier to listen to my history professors, at least certain ones.  They could talk about history and I would just listen, never reading anything, and then make A's on the exams.  It was then I realized that if I was going to be a teacher that I should teach something that I liked and was natural to me.

As a teacher, I have tried to make history (which is always ranked as the most disliked subject by students in the U.S.) more interesting.  I have tried to make it into a story that flows, but also connecting history from long ago to something that is relevant to students' lives today.  It makes my career more interesting for me and makes the work day easier to deal with being a coach and teacher.

(Me teaching U.S. history at Henryville H.S.)