He was a great man ... I loved him. I remember exactly where I was the night he died. I was on top of a mountain overlooking the Gatun river in Panama. My RTO was dicking around with his PRC77 trying to pick-up some english speaking news ... and he managed to pick-up a TV station outta the states. We caught it just in time for sports and they were rehashing the fact that The Bear had died. I could not believe it. I had just been home on leave a month before and gone to the Liberty Bowl to see him coach his last game with my Dad and older brother.

I remember where I was when JFK was shot, I remember where I was when MLK and RFK were shot. I remember where I was when we first walked on the moon. I remember where I was when The Bear died and where I was when the Challenger exploded. I guess those are the big news stories of my lifetime.

The Bear really hurt though ... I didn't think it was fair. And now I realize how young he was. I remember the reporter saying The Bear wanted to leave the hospital and go home to Arkansas to do some duck hunting. We hunted the same area around Maddox May and I remembered the two times he had his family group up there when we were there ... we had a family cabin right on the bay (for over 100 years in our family, although we just sold it two years ago), and how he hunted in a regular cap rather than his houndstooth ... I remembered thinking how different he looked in that different cap with a shotgun in his hand climbing down the bank to his boat.

The Bear was a great man.