Murphy’s Law, written by Barbara Murphy, appears monthly in The Golden Times. The column represents the opinion of the author and is not necessarily the opinion of the publisher.
JoePa: Where Was I When
An 85-Year-Old Man Needed Support?
No matter what it said on his death certificate, Joe Paterno died of a broken heart.
It was broken by Penn State officials who summarily fired their legendary head football coach with a phone call and by the media which insisted, even after his death, that Joe Paterno’s legacy will be forever “tarnished” because of what he didn’t do after being informed of an alleged sex crime by a former member of his coaching staff.
When I say the media was at fault, I include myself. Mine was a sin of omission. I had serious reservations about Penn State’s firing of Coach Paterno last November. Yet, I devoted my December column in this paper to the war on drugs and my January column to the war on obesity. Both are important topics, but not as important as the fate of an elderly man, revered as a coach and educator, who was thrown to the wolves over something he did NOT do.
Whatever happened to due process? The people who ran Penn State at the time may not have had a legal duty to accord Coach Paterno due process before his firing — holding a hearing after gathering all the evidence and taking testimony from all the witnesses — but they certainly had a moral duty.
With three games left in the 2011 season, Coach Paterno was fired after rape allegations against former assistant coach Jerry Sandusky became public. Reportedly, a graduate assistant told Coach Paterno in 2002 that he had witnessed Mr. Sandusky molesting a boy in the lockerroom shower. Coach Paterno told his superior, athletic director Tim Curley, about the allegation but did not call the police. Reportedly, it was that failure which led to Coach Paterno’s firing.
It was never made clear if Coach Paterno had a legal duty to call police himself or whether he fulfilled his legal duty by informing the athletic director of the allegations. Due process was wholly ignored. Shortly after his firing, Coach Paterno announced he had lung cancer.
Nobody should be fired under these circumstances without some degree of due process, but Penn State had an even more special duty to Joe Paterno. He was not only one of the nation’s greatest football coaches but he was also a dedicated educator and a man who loved Penn State beyond measure. He gave the school millions of dollars. You might say he even gave the college his soul.
It should also be pointed out that Mr. Sandusky has insisted that he is innocent. Yet, before any kind of trial or other legal proceeding, he has been found guilty in the press and the eyes of the public.
Oh yes, the media is ultra-careful to use the word “alleged” in writing and talking about Mr. Sandusky. But much of the media had no trouble in continuing to support Coach Paterno’s firing for failing to tell the police about an “alleged” crime.
The worst piece I’ve seen was a column in the Nov. 13 New York Times by Ross Douthat entitled “The Devil in Joe Paterno.” Mr. Douthat accused Coach Paterno of “effectively washing his hands of the rape of a young boy.” He wrote that “it was precisely because Joe Paterno had done so much good for so long that he could do the unthinkable and let an alleged child rapist continue to walk free in Penn State’s Happy Valley.”
In my own way, I am as culpable as Mr. Douthat. I write for a newspaper which seeks to serve senior citizens. Yet when 85-year-old Joe Paterno needed people to speak up in his defense, I was silent. I thought I had more important things to write about.
In the wake of Coach Paterno’s death, I have also learned a lesson that most people my age learned long ago — when people can’t do the thing they love, they die.
Harvard-trained geriatrician Bill Thomas, considered a pioneer in improving the quality of life for the frail elderly, told The Philadelphia Inquirer’s Michael Vitez: “When you feel that you’ve lost your place in this world, death is never far behind.” Mr. Vitez noted that Mr. Paterno has long refused to retire, always believing that without football he would die.
Dr. Thomas said he had seen many, many cases like Coach Paterno’s. “Old age is about heart and soul,” he said. “We think of it mainly in terms of biology. He’s 85. He’s got lung cancer. These are important but it is the heart and soul of it that matter more.” Perhaps the lesson for all of us in this is to find some task you love that no one can take away from you.
At a public memorial for Joe Paterno last week, his son Jay said that his father “left this world with a clear conscience.” I am not so sure that many involved with his firing and its media coverage can claim that same clear conscience right now.
*
Barbara Murphy, 79, writes about controversial issues each month.
An 85-Year-Old Man Needed Support?
No matter what it said on his death certificate, Joe Paterno died of a broken heart.
It was broken by Penn State officials who summarily fired their legendary head football coach with a phone call and by the media which insisted, even after his death, that Joe Paterno’s legacy will be forever “tarnished” because of what he didn’t do after being informed of an alleged sex crime by a former member of his coaching staff.
When I say the media was at fault, I include myself. Mine was a sin of omission. I had serious reservations about Penn State’s firing of Coach Paterno last November. Yet, I devoted my December column in this paper to the war on drugs and my January column to the war on obesity. Both are important topics, but not as important as the fate of an elderly man, revered as a coach and educator, who was thrown to the wolves over something he did NOT do.
Whatever happened to due process? The people who ran Penn State at the time may not have had a legal duty to accord Coach Paterno due process before his firing — holding a hearing after gathering all the evidence and taking testimony from all the witnesses — but they certainly had a moral duty.
With three games left in the 2011 season, Coach Paterno was fired after rape allegations against former assistant coach Jerry Sandusky became public. Reportedly, a graduate assistant told Coach Paterno in 2002 that he had witnessed Mr. Sandusky molesting a boy in the lockerroom shower. Coach Paterno told his superior, athletic director Tim Curley, about the allegation but did not call the police. Reportedly, it was that failure which led to Coach Paterno’s firing.
It was never made clear if Coach Paterno had a legal duty to call police himself or whether he fulfilled his legal duty by informing the athletic director of the allegations. Due process was wholly ignored. Shortly after his firing, Coach Paterno announced he had lung cancer.
Nobody should be fired under these circumstances without some degree of due process, but Penn State had an even more special duty to Joe Paterno. He was not only one of the nation’s greatest football coaches but he was also a dedicated educator and a man who loved Penn State beyond measure. He gave the school millions of dollars. You might say he even gave the college his soul.
It should also be pointed out that Mr. Sandusky has insisted that he is innocent. Yet, before any kind of trial or other legal proceeding, he has been found guilty in the press and the eyes of the public.
Oh yes, the media is ultra-careful to use the word “alleged” in writing and talking about Mr. Sandusky. But much of the media had no trouble in continuing to support Coach Paterno’s firing for failing to tell the police about an “alleged” crime.
The worst piece I’ve seen was a column in the Nov. 13 New York Times by Ross Douthat entitled “The Devil in Joe Paterno.” Mr. Douthat accused Coach Paterno of “effectively washing his hands of the rape of a young boy.” He wrote that “it was precisely because Joe Paterno had done so much good for so long that he could do the unthinkable and let an alleged child rapist continue to walk free in Penn State’s Happy Valley.”
In my own way, I am as culpable as Mr. Douthat. I write for a newspaper which seeks to serve senior citizens. Yet when 85-year-old Joe Paterno needed people to speak up in his defense, I was silent. I thought I had more important things to write about.
In the wake of Coach Paterno’s death, I have also learned a lesson that most people my age learned long ago — when people can’t do the thing they love, they die.
Harvard-trained geriatrician Bill Thomas, considered a pioneer in improving the quality of life for the frail elderly, told The Philadelphia Inquirer’s Michael Vitez: “When you feel that you’ve lost your place in this world, death is never far behind.” Mr. Vitez noted that Mr. Paterno has long refused to retire, always believing that without football he would die.
Dr. Thomas said he had seen many, many cases like Coach Paterno’s. “Old age is about heart and soul,” he said. “We think of it mainly in terms of biology. He’s 85. He’s got lung cancer. These are important but it is the heart and soul of it that matter more.” Perhaps the lesson for all of us in this is to find some task you love that no one can take away from you.
At a public memorial for Joe Paterno last week, his son Jay said that his father “left this world with a clear conscience.” I am not so sure that many involved with his firing and its media coverage can claim that same clear conscience right now.
*
Barbara Murphy, 79, writes about controversial issues each month.
