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Extremely long but please read this story.
Posted on 2/17/15 at 9:25 pm
Posted on 2/17/15 at 9:25 pm
A request letter from the son of a VFL to Condredge Holloway. I'm going to have to make this multiple posts due to length. LINK
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Dear Mr. Holloway - Penn State 1972 : Under the lights, the untold story. Dear Mr. Holloway; First off let me start by saying that to type this message and know that it will reach your personal email inbox is an honor and a privilege. Like most of the people you see in a normal day, I am a huge Vols fan and will be until the day the good Lord takes me away. Some Vols fans inherit the blessing by simply growing up in Knoxville or any part of Tennessee for that matter. Some Vols fans came to be during eras of UT football that turned the term "bandwagon fan" into an understatement. I feel the phrase "Big Orange Caravan" would seem more appropriate. Some Vols fans support the 'Power T' because they themselves wore the historic orange and white on game day and actually stepped foot on Shields-Watkins Field to play the great game of football. And although I was not fortunate enough to be one of those men, my father Steve Adkins was. A graduate of Knoxville Catholic High School, where his jersey was retired and his picture still remains on the wall, that chose Tennessee over numerous offers including the likes of Paul "Bear" Bryant and Alabama, as well as the Notre Dame Fighting Irish, a Catholic school with the same mascot as his high school.
My father became a member of the Tennessee Volunteers football team in 1972. In 1972 the home opener (which you already know) was against Joe Paterno and his Nittany Lions. They came into Neyland Stadium seeking revenge for their lone loss in 1971. This game would also be the first night game at the University of Tennessee. You were the quarterback and led the Volunteers into the game coming off a win at Georgia Tech, 34-3. From all things I have gathered, the game against the Nittany Lions was the first game in Knoxville that the University of Tennessee allowed freshman to play on the varsity squad. Watching the film of that game provided me with one of those "awww" moments in life as I watched my father streak down the field on the opening kickoff and make the first tackle of the game. Proud, elated, ecstatic, mesmerized.... these are the only words I can find to explain how I felt watching the ticking black and white film that so vividly portrayed orange and white. We were up 21-0 at the half and then Penn State dug in. As we know the game ended 28-21 in spectacular fashion. Stanback scored his third touchdown at the beginning of the fourth quarter to give the Vols a 28-14 lead. Penn State would not have enough time to come back..
You led the Vols to a 10-2 season and a victory over LSU in the Bluebonnet Bowl. This would go down as one of the greatest years in my fathers' life. Besides football, he talked about times at Gibbs Hall. Although you may not remember him, he spoke of times with the team hanging out in Knoxville. He remembers hanging out with you Mr. Holloway, which is truly one of the coolest things my father ever did in my opinion. He talked about how great of shape he was in due to Bill Battle's unorthodox workout tactics. He talked about tradition. How back then the Vols ran out of the 'T' from the sideline instead of the end zone. He showed me his tear-away jerseys that seemed so fragile I could hardly stand to touch them. In 2004 when Tennessee played UNLV he taught me that until that game, only members of the 1972 Volunteers had worn white jerseys with orange shoulders. He took me to games starting when I was three years old. This blessing, to be a Vols fan going up to Knoxville on Saturdays walking inside Neyland Stadium learning all I would ever need to know about home field advantage, became a way of life for me.
Being a kid that grew up in Calhoun, Georgia (proudly born in Chattanooga, TN) this was great throughout the 90s. In 1998 when we won the National Championship game, like all Vols fans, I was on top of the world, but the next 14 years would truly prove my commitment level to our beloved Vols. Each year Dad and I would go see the boys in orange hammer it out against the big guys from the SEC. In early 2008, I was 20 years old and had a solid job. Talk of getting season tickets was in the air between Dad and I. He was a very successful stockbroker and either way wanted to make a hefty donation to the University of Tennessee Athletic Department, so we figured why not grab some seats about 10 rows up on the 50 (Dad swore these were the best seats in the house because anything closer and you could not see well over the players). Around the beginning of May we decided to hold off on getting our season tickets until June. With the extra money in his bank account, Dad decided to buy our family tickets to The Eagles concert at Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre on Friday, May 16th, 2008. The Eagles were that band that everyone in my family knew every word to every song. On Tuesday, May 13th, 2008, two months and five days after his 54th birthday, and three days before the show, my father had a stroke. The day before he had bench pressed 395 pounds during his daily workout on his quest to the world record bench press over the age of fifty (a feat I know he would have reached) and he also pressure washed the house. For someone of his physical stature we honestly did not understand. For someone that worked so hard and helped so many people we asked "Why did this happen to him?"
This post was edited on 2/17/15 at 9:32 pm
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Posted on 2/17/15 at 9:26 pm to NorthGAVol
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See I grew up the son of a prolific football player, but he had coached me for 15 years as I was an elite soccer player. During his tenure as “Coach Steve” he led our teams to 13 undefeated seasons, our first state championship at the age of 8, five state division titles to follow, 26 tournament championships, and 3 indoor league championships. Our last three years together he moved us through three of the top divisions in the state of Georgia with a record of 34-0, and accomplished leading our team to an international tournament in Wales, all the while volunteering his time and never receiving a penny for his commitment. The joy of providing us with the memories was enough for him. Over the course of those 15 years I saw him take in three players and treat them as if they were his own children. To this day I consider those guys my brothers. From 2003 to 2008 he also volunteered his time to Calhoun High School, being a lay coach that gave the five hundred dollars the school gave him for coaching each year back into the program so we, the players, could have top of the line gear. I graduated in 2006 and as previously noted, he still coached for two more years because he was committed to those guys.
He put in 40 hours a week at work, 40 hours a week on the field, and was the best father a child could ask for throughout all of it. He spent thousands of dollars on his teams so that we could have the best uniforms, trainers, and so the guys that could not afford it could still be a part of our “TEAM” because without those guys our team would not have been complete, and he truly never expected anything but our best efforts in return. A number of his players went on to play in college including myself and to this day we would all tell anyone that he is the reason why we reached the heights that we did in our playing careers. But what he did for us as men, teaching us how to apply what he taught us on the field to our lives, is the truly remarkable part of it all. Like how he went into any commitment in life, he taught us three key essentials that anyone must apply to any task in life if they truly want to succeed or at least progress. To be the exception to the rule that skill wins championships. POISE - PRIDE - DEDICATION. The man is the epitome of these words. His players were his artwork, his stories, his memories, his successors. We love him more and more each day as we find new ways to implement what he taught us as far back as seven years old into our daily lives.
On Thursday, May 15th, 2008, my father’s life was put on halt so that he and God could share a moment together. He had a second stroke. From the outside looking in my father was lifeless on his hospital bed being rushed back into surgery. Uncontrollable emotions filled our family’s hearts, his player’s, that had driven from schools all over the country, hearts, even his nurse’s hearts. And there I was, with poise, pride, dedication. My commitment to my family and loved ones allowed me to stay strong, to hold back the tears, to fight like hell through the hardest moment of my life. At eight o’clock that night his doctor came down to the waiting room and told us that now would be the time to go say goodbye to my father, he would not make it through the night. About twenty people deep we surrounded the bed. I hung the necklaces I wore everyday above his head on a light fixture on the wall. On one chain there were two dog tags, one with my information, and one with my father’s information. On the other chain, a cross and a dog tag displaying the ten commandments. As everyone filled the room with prayer I began to talk to dad. “Please wake up Dad. Please, please wake up. I need you Dad, please wake up.” I began lifting his eyelids and looking into his eyes. “Come on Dad, please wake up, I can’t lose you.”
God had finished his visit with my father. “Dad if you can hear me look at me.” And then my dad’s eyes shifted from straight in front him and lifeless, to directly staring into mine. “He just looked at me!” The room got quiet. “Dad if you can hear me blink your eyes,” - blink, blink - “Dad if you can see me look at me and blink at me.” He looked directly into my eyes - blink. “Someone get the nurse, he is awake.”The nurse looked at my mom and said, “I’m sorry mam, those are just reflexes.” I walked over to the nurse and said, “My father just looked at me and blinked as I asked him to, please just come look.” She joined me at his bedside as I said, “Dad if you can see me and you are awake look at me and the nurse and blink,” - blink. He was awake and a whole room just watched a miracle happen for the man that had been a miracle for us for so long.
This post was edited on 2/17/15 at 9:27 pm
Posted on 2/17/15 at 9:28 pm to NorthGAVol
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The hardest opponent he would ever have to face was upon him. Broken and beaten down he began his fight. Until that day I had seen my father cry one time in the 20 years I had been alive. Over the next five months I would see him cry numerous times daily as he apologized hourly that this had happened. The two weeks after his second stroke we watched as more and more of his physical attributes slowly slipped away, begging for it to stop, and then it did. He had reached the point that we will forever remember as “the all time low,” and it was shattering. Lying in the bed of a nursing home that he and my mom stayed at for months in a tiny room, 43 miles from home, with a trach in his neck, permanent double vision, a feeding tube, bed baths, and a new body that was capable of one/one millionth of the body he had lived in for 54 years. He dropped from 280 lbs. to 215 lbs. in less than 2 months. Unless you knew him you could not even understand the words coming out of his mouth. He wanted to give up. He would say, “I wish I were gone. I remember what it was like. It was peaceful there.” I asked, “Peaceful where dad?” He responded, “Heaven.”
One day I went into his room and I told him something that he had told me so long ago. Through his sorrows he had lost sight of it. “Dad the only way to make it through this is with three key essential things that you must apply to each day of the rest of your life so that you can live and be happy. Poise, pride, and dedication, Dad, thats the only thing that will get you through this.” With this bit of advice everything changed. The crying went away, the wishes of not being here vanished, and his opponent was in the 12th round with a guy that had seemingly found fresh legs. Each day at the nursing home he gained something back. Eventually he could be understood by most people in a conversation as he relearned how to talk. Eventually he could stand again, and eventually through physical therapy he could walk 30 feet at one time with the aid of a helper and a walker. Eventually with the help of prismed glasses he became able to see single again. And then his insurance cut off.
He and my mom came home. I helped as much as possible but seeing him was agonizing for me. My mother became everything to him. From driving him to doctors appointments to helping him use the bathroom and shower. From late 2008 to 2012 my parents life savings dwindled away. There dream home went into foreclosure and they now live in my sisters basement, content, and happy to just have each other. Anything and everything she can do to find the dime to get him to another doctor’s visit she does. We want more for him and know that he has the poise, pride, and dedication to better himself if he just had the help and the opportunity.
You see Mr. Holloway, in the summer of 1973 my father left the University of Tennessee. Personal issues led him away from being a Volunteer. His dream. But that decision led him to meeting my mom and starting the incredible life they have lived together. It led to my existence. In the wake of having to give up on his dream he swore one thing to himself. He swore that in his heart and in his life’s work he would be the greatest Volunteer this world will ever know. He has given every moment of the rest of his life for others from that day. Even today, the work he puts in to make himself better, is because he knows that his quality of life contributes to the smiles on the faces of so many others. From the Chamber of Commerce to the origin of club soccer in northwest Georgia, my father has volunteered his time. I once saw him help a man pull a nurse shark up over the bay bridge in Pensacola, Florida the man had caught while fishing. The man was too weak to do it on his own. He literally risked his life to help another man fulfill a dream. I want to help my father fulfill his dreams. In the last month and a half he finished writing a book that is about his winning moments in life and supposed to inspire people. Each paragraph taking him longer to write than the time it took me to write you this entire letter. Although he cannot physically thrive more than his tools for success will allow him to at this point, mentally he can grow strong beyond measure.
Posted on 2/17/15 at 9:31 pm to NorthGAVol
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Today I write you for one reason and one reason only. The opportunity for him to be a part of the Vol for Life program would be a tremendous honor not only to my father but to our family. His desire to get a message across to the University of Tennessee football team in regards to the opportunity that lies in their hands, is a desire that stands above the rest. Do today what you may not be able to tomorrow is something that youthful minds often do not think about. To return to Knoxville and volunteer his wisdom and vulnerability is a request that he has had for a very long time. Until this moment I have not had the ability to write this letter. It crushes me to rehash the events that have filled my fathers life for the past seven years. That have filled my families life for the last seven years as well. But now, to fulfill a dream my father has, I will not stop volunteering my time and efforts. For the man that built my dreams to this point in my life and single handedly provided me with the strength to reach them, I will not quit.
If there is anyone that he felt I could reach out to it was you Mr. Holloway. He sincerely believes in the trenches of his heart that what could be shared from his experiences could amount to life changes in the men that take the field on Saturday’s, and beyond them if you wish. Nothing is expected in return. An insurmountable influence on yet another crowd of fresh faces and finally making a difference at the University of Tennessee would simply be enough for him.
If you could Mr. Holloway, please respond to this letter. If there is someone else I should seek, please allow their name. I beg you, for my father, my hero, for the opportunity to make these years as worthy to him as those he would consider his best. In life, a commonly used phrase that holds high value is, “What goes around, comes around.” I feel it is time for things to “come around” for my father. I know after reading this, you would have to agree. For the volunteer of volunteers, will you please put in the effort to have this become a reality. Although he was not alongside the men that served in the War of 1812. Although he was not alongside Davy Crockett during the Mexican War as he and 30,000 Tennesseans went down to Texas, Santa Ana, the Alamo, to give their lives for the well being of so many others, he truly lives by the same principles. For in this life he has found, to serve others is truly the only fulfilling decision one could make, and you must give all glory to God.
With poise in my mind, pride in my heart, and the utmost dedication to my father I leave you with this Mr. Holloway. Being a Tennessee Volunteer is not just an academic and athletic commitment - It is honestly the only way I see fit to live. I imagine that one day in his final hour he will ask himself, “Steve Adkins, who are you? What have you done? What will you leave behind?” His answer, “I am a Tennessee Volunteer born and raised, that has discovered the only way to truly pursue happiness is by living within the guidelines subconsciously founded in the heart of Knoxville, Tennessee. The only thing to leave behind is something I cannot claim as my own, but maybe through my experiences I have left many with the wisdom and knowledge that will allow them to make the decision to live such a remarkable and victorious way of life.” For Your Time I Can Never Repay You, Paul Adkins
Posted on 2/17/15 at 10:14 pm to NorthGAVol
Beautiful letter. Do we know if Halloway has responded?
I'm sure he will.
I'm sure he will.
Posted on 2/17/15 at 11:04 pm to NorthGAVol
Yep. I'm in tears. Wow.
Posted on 2/19/15 at 12:42 pm to Supravol22
We need to know what happened.
Posted on 2/19/15 at 1:09 pm to Ancient Rome
I found the update on VolNation. Looks like this is really going to happen for that guy.
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Just a quick update. Antone Davis gave me a call this morning. He said dad definitely fits within the guidelines of being a VFL and has extended an invitation to be a part of the next event that they will hold. The first practice of spring will be his first trip up to see the team practice and a few others want to take him to the spring game. Antone also allowed the information that Mr. Holloway has not been in since last week but will have a personally delivered print out of the letter when returns on his desk. I am incredibly grateful for people like you Pat. Every little thing that has happened and will happen in the future probably wouldn't have with out the help I received in the last week. I hope to meet you soon. GO VOLS
Posted on 2/19/15 at 7:45 pm to NorthGAVol
frick yeah. Glad he's getting his wish
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