Feeling the loss

It has been a sad couple of weeks for those former RHS students that attended the brick building on Seventh Street from 1968-1973. We lost a couple of coaches/educators and a former principal.

I found out last week that Bob Hubbard passed away a little over a month ago, due the complications following a surgery.

For those of you that read The Journal religiously and are a fan of From the Files, you most likely read about Hubbard’s hiring in the 50-year portion of last week’s segment. Yes, Coach Hubbard was a 30-year-old former military man hired as a typing teacher, assistant football coach and assistant basketball coach in the fall of 1967. He served good old RHS for two years.

Coach Hub was a nice guy. I don’t think I ever saw him get really mad, only a little upset a time or two and he got over it quickly.

He wasn’t a great x’s and o’s guy but his JV basketball teams won and that is always the bottom line, right?

You could say he was a player’s coach and I don’t know anyone that didn’t like Coach Hub. Coach Hubbard was 80.

A few weeks ago, Duane Hopkins passed away at the age of 87. He came to Ritzville in the fall of 1969, my senior year.

Hopkins took inventory of the basketball jerseys and made a decision, not sure if he had any extra help, to order new home white and for the first time away black jerseys.

He also ordered new warm up tops and pants. It was the first time the Broncos had warm up pants.

To save money the jerseys were numbers only and the warm ups were also void of any name to let fans know who we were. In other words, the name Ritzville or Broncos were not a part of the package.

Before the jerseys arrived for us to wear, Hopkins said to me, “The rumor around here is that you guys are going to state so I guess you need to look good as well!”

Well Hopkins, we did make it to state and we did look good.

The basketball coach for that team also arrived in the fall of 1969. A couple of weeks ago, I told you about the trip that four of us made to visit with Coach Doug McLean.

Coach passed away 12 days after our visit, finally finding peace after going through a lot of pain in recent weeks.

Last Saturday, I attended his memorial service with former players Dan Meyer, Randy Hanson and Lyle Heimbigner. Dan played both basketball and baseball for Coach, and Lyle was also on the 1970 District Championship baseball team. Randy brought his wife, Barb, who also became a good friend to Coach over the years.

At the memorial service in the tiny town of Vader, the pastor read about six letters written by former students and athletes from Boistfort, Winlock and Napavine. It was clear that the people he coached had the same love for him that we did here in Ritzville.

The words that described Coach talked about his compassion and love for the players on each team he coached.

The letters talked about the importance of hard work and discipline to reach the goals of playing your best when it matters.

One letter said, “You could always count on Coach McLean to wear a sport coat and a dress shirt and tie. Your hair needed to be trimmed neatly and there would be no facial hair. Oh yeah, and you stood in respect of the American flag during the National Anthem!”

When the last letter was read I thought to myself, those letters could have been written by any athlete he coached at RHS or even the students he taught.

One gal talked to the congregation and told everyone about her experiences as a player at Napavine in the 1990s. McLean coached girl’s basketball there for one season. She told everyone about the line drills that every former athlete could remember vividly.

She said, “When we were bent over grasping for air Coach would say ‘Suck it up Buttercup, it’s time to get in shape!’”

After the service we talked with former players and several friends. When we told them we were from Ritzville, they told us how pleased Coach was that his Bronco athletes came to see him in the nursing home. It was time well spent and a happy memory for a very sad time.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say again, Coach didn’t change my life, he enhanced it. He didn’t make me a better person or basketball player he merely got me to realize what it would take to be better and he certainly succeeded.

Those of us that were around in the late 1960s and early 1970s are feeling the loss of some influential people in our lives. I hope we thanked them.