To the Editor:
This is long overdue. There are things that happen in this world that no one can prepare for. It happens and then there is a response.
On a warm and sunny spring afternoon in 1972, I was in Mr. Fred Grosse’s gym class. So, there we were, juniors in Middle in gym class playing ‘speedball,’ which was a combination of soccer and football. Mr. Grosse had gotten us started and walked over to speak with another teacher through the window, who was in a classroom in the D-Wing.
Before long, two of my classmates, who for privacy reasons we will call Gary and Danny, were both running for the ball, which had been kicked up fairly high into the air. With their eyes on the ball, they apparently never saw each other and collided at full speed, standing completely erect at the time of impact. They both hit the ground. Gary got up, dazed and confused, and walked away. Our immediate focus was on Danny, who did not get up. He was knocked unconscious, laying on his back and had evidently swallowed his tongue. He also was bleeding as his nose got hit very hard but wasn’t broken. It was a gruesome scene, with Danny being unable to breathe, and turning blue/purple almost immediately. The sound of that struggle for breath I will never forget along with what happened next.
Several weeks earlier, Mr. Grosse had been instructing us in first aid. Well, each of us young boys had a ‘why me’ moment, and immediately started screaming and hollering for Mr. Grosse. He sprinted 40 some yards and was on top of us in what seemed to be a second flat, or a ‘flash,’ as we used to say.
Realizing what was going on, he immediately and without hesitation began to resuscitate Danny. Within a minute, Danny came around and as he did, another classmate who we will call Ralph, instructed Mr. Grosse to roll Danny over, something that Mr. Grosse had taught us previously. The ambulance arrived and took Danny to the hospital, and he fully recovered.
Until the passing of Mr. Grosse the other day, I had never spoken of this incident to anyone. Never even spoke about it to those who were there. I am not sure that I mentioned it to my mother. I never heard much about it in school after that.
I believe that we were so shook up by what happened, or more to the point what could have happened, had it not been for Mr. Grosse, and that’s why I didn’t speak about it for 49.5 years.
I had always entertained the thought that as a class, we would recognize Mr. Grosse at a class reunion, or some other school setting. We didn’t, and for that I am eternally sorry and take some of the blame.
The memories of that short period of time will forever be etched in my memory. My trust and respect for Mr. Grosse will never end.
I never heard Mr. Grosse ever utter a negative word to or about anyone. It’s fair to say that we all trusted him. He did not waver. He was one of us and he saved the life and health of one of our classmates. My like grew into respect for the individual who he was. Hopefully, if his family never heard this story, they have now.
We never played ‘speedball’ after that.
I write this because it is so long overdue and because I want to try to acknowledge how this man affected my life. What a good man.
