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LEDGER COLUMNIST
To anyone passing by, it probably looked like just another graveside funeral service.
It wasn't.
Those gathered at the cemetery in Rock Hill last Friday afternoon were there to remember a friend who died almost 26 years ago in a car accident.
Some of them who attended his funeral in 1981 realized that no marker was placed on his grave.
Over the years, it kept nagging at one of them and he kept reminding others that there was no marker on "Brownie's" grave.
Because of Jake Stone's persistence, there is now.
Rick Brown was an outstanding football player for the University of South Carolina. He was team captain in 1972 and drafted by the Green Bay Packers.
About 25 of Brownie's fellow Gamecocks, one coach and a friend from high school dedicated the grave marker in a service conducted by John LeHeup, another teammate, who is now a Presbyterian minister. Bob Perry organized the service.
Intermingled with the scripture readings and prayers were stories about Brownie.
"One thing about Brownie," coach Pride Ratteree said, "is that he always told the truth. No matter what kind of trouble he might have gotten into, he'd own up to it."
Coach Ratteree explained that although Rick made the Packers team, he decided he had had enough of football.
"He just packed up and came back to Columbia. One of the coaches up there called and asked me to get him to come back. They really wanted him and thought he could be the next Ray Nitschke," Ratteree said. "But I couldn't change his mind. They even invited him to come back the next year but he declined. That's unheard of for a pro team to do that."
A couple of Brownie's teammates went to watch him play in the Senior Bowl. "We're here to see you play, but we're broke," they told Rick.
"That's OK, I'll have $5,000 tomorrow!"
Rick Brown would give you the shirt off his back, even if it was the only one he had.
Brownie didn't have much in the financial sense, but he was richer than most when it came to friends.
He lived more in his 32 years than most who remain on earth much longer do. And he enriched the lives of those who knew him.
The memorial service was also a reunion of sorts, with former Gamecocks reliving their "glory days" and swapping stories.
It was a joyous occasion, a sad one and an emotional one.
Jim Pope spoke for all those assembled when he thanked Coach Ratteree for his tough, but caring, guidance on and off the field. Those who didn't have tears in their eyes had lumps in their throats.
I doubt those who have never played sports can imagine the bond that develops between players and their coaches. Not all coaches, mind you, because it takes a special coach to foster that relationship - there's a fine line between love and hate.
Pride Ratteree was one of those special coaches. He cared about his players. How many coaches would have attended a memorial service for a player who died 26 years ago?
And they cared about him. Another special coach most of you know something about is Bob Prevatte.
He, too, cared about his players and they cared about him. Still do.
His former players have given or pledged almost $140,000 to establish a scholarship in his name.
When Thomas Blackwell told me of his plans to raise $200,000 for a scholarship fund in Coach Prevatte's name, I promised to help but thought he was dreaming and the goal would never be reached.
For such an amount to be raised in such a short time is a true testament to Coach Prevatte and Thomas Blackwell.
"Coach Prevatte taught me a lot and one thing was hard work pays off," Blackwell told me recently. "To have so many people contribute so much time and money to this fund shows just how much Coach Prevatte meant to his players."
Some downplay the role of sports in education, but the special relationships that exist among players and coaches are unique and not developed in any classroom.
Coach Prevatte and Coach Ratteree and Rick Brown - finer folks never walked the face of the earth.
Thank God and football for allowing me to take a few steps with all three of them.
Cody Sossamon (cody@gaffneyledger.com) is publisher of The Gaffney Ledger.







