The Holocaust museum in Amsterdam (at long last)

      

      On Sunday, the new Netherlands National Holocaust Museum will be dedicated in Amsterdam.

      (On the front of the building the sign says Nationaal Holocaust Museum ... that's the Dutch spelling of national).

       Anyway -- to use a favorite (borrowed) expression: What took them so long?

       It has been 82-plus years since the abuse, degradation and eventual deportation/deaths of Dutch Jews at the Nazi concentration camps began.

       There are several buildings and memorials to honor Holocaust prisoners and victims in Amsterdam; we have visited them on our three trips back to the old country, and we've written about them.

        But never has there been an actual Holocaust museum -- like many around the world, including those in Washington, D.C. and Dallas, for example -- in the Netherlands.

        Until now, thank goodness.

        We thank a friend at Trinity Terrace -- our seniors residency in Fort Worth -- for alerting us to The New York Times story about the museum (see link at the bottom of this blog). It was news to us. 

        If you know and understand our family's Holocaust history, you know that we think it is important.

        And it is important enough in Holland that today the Dutch king, Willem-Alexander, will attend the museum ceremony.

        (He will do so alongside the president of Israel, and with today's fragile Middle East situation, some 200 mosques -- Palestinian supporters -- and even a protesting Jewish organization or two suggested/demanded that Willem-Alexander not attend. His reply: I will be there.)

        Not coincidentally, we -- Beatrice and I -- were in Amsterdam the day (April 30, 2013) that Willem-Alexander became the first king of the Netherlands in more than 100 years.

       That was just a few days after we visited -- or re-visited -- four sites in the Jewish Quarter in Amsterdam: the Hollandsche Schouwburg,  the Joods Historisch Museum, the Portuguese Synagogue, and the Auschwitz memorial. 

    Here is a link to the blog piece I wrote then: https://nvanthyn.blogspot.com/2013/06/a-place-for-memories-and-tears.html

     Plenty of Holocaust history at those places, and we appreciated the sights.

     The new museum will tell -- as an Associated Press story this week noted -- the story "in video footage, photos, scale models and mementos, of Dutch victims of the Holocaust."

      As you also might know, my mother (Rose Van Thyn) spoke and wrote about her and our family's Holocaust experiences for many years. Will some of her material (photos, videos, articles, letters) be included in this Holocaust museum?

     Answer: We have no idea. Certainly no indication of that.

      My sister -- Elsa Van Thyn -- said in a note: "Guess the museum will feature Mama's statements about how the Dutch weren't the best for the Jews." 

      Don't know.

      But what we do know is that -- whether our family, especially those who lost their lives in the World War II years -- is directly acknowledged at the museum or not, the opening of this facility is a great thing.

       We cannot forget our people.

       And we are grateful for those who remember, and -- with this museum -- honor their memory.

---

      Here are links to information about the museum:

       -- Nationaal Holocaustmuseum  Museum/nl\ 

       -- https://www.yahoo.com/news/holocaust-museum-amsterdam-aims-tell-063005778.html?fr=sycsrp_catchall

     -- https://apnews.com/article/netherlands-holocaust-museum-antisemitism-4b7f1e725bb014283c57381425001aee

   -- With a New Holocaust Museum, the Netherlands Faces Its Past 

   

And now he's 50 (oh, my!)

     

      When our son turned 40 a decade ago, I wrote a blog titled, "When your kid is 40, where are you?"

      Let's catch up and change that 40 to 50. Yes, Jason Shawn Key is 50. Don't think he's too concerned about this milestone. 

      Just as 10 years ago, he stays busy with work and being a father -- and chauffeur to two boys (ages 15 and 13) who have lots to do and places to go.

       Reading back over the blog of 2014, we had to laugh at the recall of the Facebook message his sister -- five years younger -- posted then: "Hope you have a wonderful day and a long, slow, enjoyable slide down that hill."

      And then there was this:

      Gary West -- the horse-racing writer/expert and writer extraordinaire, period, and our old buddy from Shreveport Journal and Fort Worth Star-Telegram sports days -- sent this note on Jason's birthday:

       "This morning when I got up, I felt a little stiffness and soreness. When I wheeled out of bed and placed my feet on the floor, my knees sounded like two bowls of breakfast cereal. For no good reason, I was tired. In other words, I felt old. And now you tell me this:

       "J-Man is 40.

       "I'm going back to bed."

       Make that 50, and how are you feeling now, Mr. West? 

---

        First met him when he was almost 3, and I was single and enchanted with his mother. Didn't know that I wanted to get married, but when she brought him to my apartment for our first meeting, he was the most beautiful, cutest little boy I'd ever seen. His hair was blond, and perfect.

       Marriage, and being a daddy, soon didn't seem so daunting.

       He was still in a diaper some and still couldn't pronounce all his words -- I was "Nito" for a while and then "Daddy Nito" -- but his animal sounds were a hoot -- "cad-doo" (rooster) and "dobble-dobble" (turkey) -- and he wasn't fussy. And that dimple on his left cheek stood out, and still does.  

       Soon he was making trips to the newspaper with me and to

Centenary's Gold Dome and to SPAR Stadium for baseball, and after a while, he believed that Daddy owned those places.

       At 6, not long after he snuck his toy miniature trucks in his pants to school (and got them taken away, never to be retrieved), he began playing soccer. His Opa Louie was pleased by that, and -- well -- a referee for some of his games.

     In Hawaii -- where we moved in 1980-81 -- he was labeled "the franchise" by his  coach. He always could run fast, as fast as anyone on his teams, and he was solidly built and unafraid of contact. So soccer became a habit, and he played for 11 years -- always one of the best players on his team, but not always the star.

      He loved it, and Beatrice and I loved watching him. And we traveled a lot of places to do that.

       But he had a lot of interests other than sports. When it came time to stop playing on soccer teams, he began preparing for college. We were thrilled when, as we were living in northeast Florida, he was accepted at LSU. Maybe his "Daddy Nito" -- who first took him to LSU football games when he was 8 -- was an influence.

       He spent five years at LSU, loved it, and did earn a degree in business there. His mother was especially proud of his efforts; she had gotten over her everyday tears during his senior year in high school (Orange Park, Florida) when she thought of her little boy moving far away.

         But Mom and Jay were always close, and like her, he is a 

 people pleaser. He was from the time he was young, and still is. He is a helper, a  do-er. A dutiful son, and older brother, and friend. 

      More than anything these days, he is a father. His job -- vice-president of a construction plumbing supply company -- is important to him, but those boys are his world. 

        Jacob, the curly-haired one, is 15; Kaden, the growing younger one, is 13, and a budding soccer player whose speed is reminiscent of the young Jason. They are the middle two of our four grandchildren.

         They live about 45 miles from us, and come to Fort Worth to visit with us, and it's always great to see them. And Jason -- for years an avid foodie -- often brings a meal he has prepared.

         So now he's 50 -- and we are deep in our 70s. Wow. He is our J-Man, and he always will be. A beautiful little boy, a grown-up middle-aged man. We are pretty proud of him.

        

Super Bowl leftovers: Greatest? Too soon

Patrick Mahomes (15) proves again that he is a Super QB

    So the sports headlines this morning are suggesting that it's time to declare Patrick Mahomes the greatest quarterback ever.

       Please ... let's not rush into this.

       Yes, he's terrific, and played brilliantly in the Kansas City Chiefs' final two scoring drives Sunday in Super Bowl 58 (take your Roman numerals into the modern era, NFL).

       But greatest ever? Too soon.

       Three Super Bowl championships leave Mahomes only four behind Tom Brady (you do remember him, right?).

        Only two behind Bart Starr for NFL championships.

        Only one behind Terry Bradshaw -- Shreveport's and Woodlawn's/Louisiana Tech's Terry Bradshaw -- and Joe Montana.

       Tied in NFL championships with Johnny U. ... that's Unitas, for those of you who might have forgotten the Colts' No. 19 or don't even know who he was.  

      Tied, too, with the Cowboys' Troy Aikman.

      And even before our time -- the early 1950s -- Otto Graham and the Cleveland Browns were the NFL's dynasty team.

      (Quick note: Greatest ever? One of the most useless arguments in sports lore, in my opinion. Wrote a blog -- several years ago -- why I don't believe it this concept ... in any sport. Just too subjective a subject.)

Johnny U. (19), the legend began in 1958

     Speaking of Johnny U. ... let's go back to the famed 1958 NFL Championship Game -- "The Greatest Game Ever Played." Because that's what I thought about watching Sunday's game wind down.

      What Kansas City, and Mahomes, did on their final two drives was identical to what Johnny U. and the Baltimore Colts did on that early Sunday evening in December 1958 at, yes, the original Yankee Stadium.

     A desperate drive in the final two minutes of regulation for the tying field goal?

     Colts, 73 yards for a 20-yard field goal with 7 seconds remaining. (The first recognized "two-minute drill.") Check. Chiefs, 64 yards for a 29-yard FG with 3 seconds remaining.

     Winning overtime drive? Colts, 80 yards, after the Giants went three-and-out on a first possession. Check. Chiefs, 75 yards, after the 49ers had to settle for a field goal on their OT possession. 

     Clutch plays? How about Unitas' 11-yard pass to halfback Lenny Moore on a 3rd-and-10. Check. And Mahomes' 8-yard scramble on 4th-and-1 at the KC 36 when the Chiefs had to convert to extend the game.

    Great main receiver? The Colts' Raymond Berry (uniform No. 82) catching three consecutive passes for 62 yards to set up the tying FG. Check. The Chiefs' brutish Travis Kelce -- you know, the boyfriend -- with the 22-yard reception/run to the 49ers' 11 (ending at 0:10 in regulation time).

     So, 2023 Chiefs, meet the 1958 Colts. All the same.

      Think Andy Reid -- three Super Bowl titles as a head coach, two near-misses) -- is a legend? Well, he's well on the way, but ... 

      How about the 1958 NY Giants, the OT losers, whose offensive coordinator was Vince Lombardi and defensive coordinator was Tom Landry. Gee, what happened to those coaches? Did they ever have any more success?

    And Weeb Ewbank, the Colts' 1958 head coach, added another NFL title with the famed 1969 New York Jets. 

      And like KC now as a Super Bowl champion repeater, the Colts made it two titles in a row in 1959 (also against the same New York Giants).  

       KC has a dynasty, three Super Bowl titles in five years, four Super Bowl appearances in five years.

       Greatest dynasty? Let's not rush this.

       Almost -- almost -- as good as Lombardi's Green Bay Packers: five NFL titles in seven years, one near-miss (1960-66). Almost as good as Bradshaw and the Pittsburgh Steelers: four Super Bowl titles in six years (1974-79). Almost as good as the early 1990s Cowboys: three Super Bowl titles in four years.

       (You do remember the Cowboys in the Super Bowl? It's only been 28 years, but who's counting?)

       And the Patriots, Brady and coach Bill Belichick? Six titles, three seconds in 18 years. (And Belichick was the defensive coordinator for the only two Super Bowl titles Bill Parcells ever won, with the Giants.)

      Look, Mahomes is terrific and seems pretty humble about it (a lot more so than the boyfriend), and Andy Reid seems a likable personality and no one doubt his coaching genius.

     But greatest ever? Let's be sane about this. Old farts like me don't forget Lombardi, Landry, and Johnny U. ... And the Blond Bomber from Shreveport.

        

The Social Hour at Trinity Terrace: a history

          From humble beginnings, the Social Hour has grown into one of the best-attended, most-anticipated weekly events at Trinity Terrace.

      It began in 2008, and it was Martha Taylor's idea. Also credit Bill Starz for the start. (That's a tease; read below for the details).

      Whether the setting is Thursday-at-4 p.m. in the Longhorn Auditorium or the occasional evening venture outside on the terrace area, there are programs that draw up to 200 or so residents.

Trinity Terrace's ukulele players and singers

      Guests attend, too, especially when the "world-famous Trinity Terrace Ukulele Philharmonic Orchestra, Chorus, Marching Society and Drill Team" -- that's director Ken Knight's tongue-in-cheek description -- is featured (four times a year). 

      The uke group, which has grown from a dozen to some 40-plus residents, has been in existence since January 2010 and from its start a part of Social Hour. And it now usually draws a more-than-capacity crowd. So much so that two concerts -- Wednesday and Thursday -- are a new schedule feature.      

      Another great attraction: Resident Services director Behka Hartmann's program of songs ... be it jazz, classic or popular tunes and -- as in 2022 -- Christmas favorites. 

      Her annual program in late May, outside on a nice evening, has been tied to a meal for residents, sponsored and served in the past two years by home-care companies. 

      Since its very beginning, musical programs have been the core of the Social Hour schedule, and the main focus of those doing the scheduling.

      Bill Starz was the first Social Hour committee chairman, and the longest-serving: six years (2008-13). He was followed by Charles Kelley for a year (2014), Rev. Bill Gould for three years (2015-17), Ken Knight for two (2018-19) and currently Nico Van Thyn for four years (2020-23).

    There were two pandemic-forced interruptions -- four days short of one year, March 2020 to April 1, 2021, and then another eight weeks (last week of 2021, first seven of 2022).

     Lonely times at Trinity Terrace, right?

---

     Many programs feature speakers -- book authors, newspaper people, Fort Worth notables, residents sharing their travel adventures, medical experts, etc.

     Some have attracted full-house audiences, such as then-mayor Betsy Price and most recently Tarrant County Sheriff Bill Waybourn. Most memorably, in 2017, there was then-new resident Dr. Bobby Brown -- New York Yankees star-turned-Fort Worth cardiologist who went overtime sharing his wealth of humorous stories. 

      Back to music: There are a dozen "regulars" audiences appreciate -- such as resident classical pianist Patrick Stanford; songs by Lisa Garrett, the aforementioned Ken Knight, Nancy and Gregg Froman, and Bob McClendon;  piano-and-trumpet by Debbie and Ken Cockerham; piano duos (Nancy and Bruce Muskrat, Doris Gameiro and Jose Cubela), piano entertainer Buddy Bray, piano/music historian Beverly Howard (a resident), the "Warmin'  Up team (Morgan Sullivan and Jim Duff), TCU students (with vocals and wind instruments), the Camp Meeting Boys group (with yodeler Devin Dawson); and the always reliable Texas Winds Outreach programs.

      Give a huge assist for at least 10 programs in 2023 to the Trinity Terrace Foundation, which provided $2,500 to pay for music and speakers. That meant -- in many people's opinion -- a boost in program quality.

      It gave the Social Hour a budget, an unprecedented development. Previously, when payment was requested, funds were drawn -- occasionally -- from the Resident Services department.

Paschal High School's mariachi group, 2022

      Resident Services also has tied several events to the Social Hour -- Valentine's Day, St. Patrick's Day, Cinco de Mayo (which in the past two years has featured high school mariachi groups from Paschal and Northside), Octoberfest, Halloween, Christmas, New Year's Eve. Next year, too: Christmas in July.

     Another goal in scheduling is to have residents do the program. They have done at least a dozen almost every year; in some of the early Social Hour years as many as 20.

     And Trinity Terrace staffers have been the performers, too. Once upon a time, the omnipresent Alex Smith -- now the events setup coordinator, but younger then -- sang Al Green tunes ("I wowed them ... I was good," he said, laughing at the recall.) 

      A decade ago, it was Bobby Davis (director of facility services) playing guitar alongside his teacher, our house painter Arjan Golemi (the Greek native). (Bobby since has switched to drums, and plays for his church worship group.)  

      And coming in November, five staffers -- Dining Services workers Kristian Thomas, Jaelon Wingham and Emily Gonzalez, weekend security guard Jacob Montgomery, and package-deliver specialist Emmanual Ogunyomi -- will perform a program of "scenes" and music.

      For a third year in a row, there will be a "Resident Roundtable" -- four residents covering their life stories -- on November 9.

A cooking demonstration: Dr. Loanne
 Chiu and chef Leon  Rivera III, 2022

    One more "in-house" program in the planning: Remember a year ago the cooking demonstration by resident Dr. Loanne Chiu and chef Leon Rivera III (with cookies by Diane Kessler). On the prospective 2024 schedule, February 1: a "cakes-cookies-pies" program featuring Elm Fork pastry chef Carol McFarland, with short segments by residents JoAnn Johnson, Jim Barker, Pat Adams and Diane Kessler (again). Plus, treats for the audience.

---

      About those humble beginnings, and Martha Taylor. She is now the matriarch of Trinity Terrace. In 2008, she was a spy, energetic 90-year-old with a plan: a weekly gathering of residents for music and -- yes -- drinks, a social gathering.

Martha Taylor

     She took her idea to Bill Starz, who agreed to be the first chairman. And he could play harmonica, which he often did in the first few years of Social Hour.

      Their first meeting drew about eight people and was held in a room that no longer exists -- near the Elm Fork dining room on the Terrace Tower's main floor (the expanded library and mail area are there now).

     Word got around and the weekly attendance grew, and soon it was time to move to the bigger Worth Lounge.

     The name went from Happy Hour to Sundowners -- neither acceptable -- and then Social Hour was a fit.

      More music, more drinks, more people, and Bill Starz went to then-executive director Lee Patterson to ask if the Longhorn Auditorium could be used for Social Hour.

     The answer was yes, and Social Hour had a permanent home. 

     Martha Taylor taught herself to play piano, and she was the Social Hour program on several occasions. And much appreciated.

       "Someone would call sick at the last minute, or unable to come for another reason," recalled Bill Gould of his time as chairman, "and Martha would say, 'I can do the program.'

    "She could tear it up," Bill added. "She played ragtime. Couldn't read music, but she could play by feel, and people loved it. ... She would get after it."

     Also, he said, "She is one of the sweetest, most enjoyable, pleasant people to be with. ... She would play piano in her apartment with the door open, and her neighbors loved it."

      Another hero was resident Judy Norman, who was on the Social Hour committee and, said Bill, "saved my bacon a couple of times" by creating programs -- poetry reading, play acting, the "Goofy Geezers" comedy (?) troupe. She remains a help with program suggestions.

      Originally, the Social Hour plan was to have a program for some 25-30 minutes, then let people visit (drink) ... socialize. Bill Gould, as scheduler, found it increasingly difficult to bring in musical guests and limit them to a half hour. So gradually -- and continuing with Ken Knight as chairman -- the programs grew to 40-45 minutes (or more).

     Ken, who had begun visiting for Social Hour before he and Richard Morehead moved in as residents in August 2017, felt that not having a budget for Social Hour was a "major concern," and scheduling was "a constant, ongoing stressor." 

     But in one of his two years in charge, Ken lined up 40 musical programs (in 51 weeks). His first guest: classical guitarist Dr. Will Douglas, a program regular.

     "I got lots of tremendous feedback [from residents]," Ken said. "People thought I was walking on water. We were fortunate to have some good musical talent come in."

      With his leadership, the ukulele/vocal group has grown to the enthusiastic 40-plus.

      Currently, suggestions for programs are always welcomed, and usually followed up. With the help of Resident Services and the Trinity Terrace Foundation, programming will continue to be impressive.

     Humble beginnings to a weekly attraction. Who knows, we might get another Alex Smith sing-along or a Thai cooking demonstration by Sithichart Phatanapirom (our "Bob"). 

     Come to Social Hour, and check it out.

On this date 77 years ago ...

     On October 14, 1946, Rozette Lopes Dias -- then with the last name Lazer -- married Louis Van Thyn in war-weary Amsterdam.

    We are still grateful 77 years later.

The wedding photo: 1946

    Who knew on that day -- a Monday and a trip to City Hall for the wedding ceremony -- how long their lives would go, and how far they would travel.

     They'd known each other for little more than a year. And they had been through so much in the previous half-dozen years, some horrific experiences -- certainly not of their choosing.

     They each had lost so much, and they had precious little family remaining.

     So, who knows how deep their love was then. But they knew they needed each other.

      Their stories -- their combined story -- has a beautiful ending, of course: Almost 62 years of marriage, the last 51-plus in two homes they owned.

       And such good fortune: Two children they never expected -- me and my younger sister Elsa --  and from that, five grandchildren. From there, to the present-day nine great-grandchildren (but only a couple born while Louis and Rose still lived).

       Plus, a journey of almost 5,000 miles and two weeks from the wonderful place where they grew up (Hup Holland!) to the country  where Mom always dreamed of living, the result of how well American military personnel treated her and other women Holocaust survivors upon rescue in early 1945.

      And what culture shock -- from a busy center of a million people to a state and city of which they'd never heard (Louisiana? Shreveport?).

    They could not have known, did not know, how accepting, how helpful, those people in Shreveport would be. First, the Jewish community, but soon far beyond that, from all over. 

      It was a perfect fit, certainly moreso than it could have been in, say, the New York City melting pot of millions.           

      In 1 1/2 years, they were home owners. In five years, they became U.S. citizens ... and darned proud of it.

      Parts of their hearts, though, was with the few family members and many friends they left behind in The Netherlands. And also with the friends -- and eventually some family -- in Israel, the Jewish-dominated state created in 1948.

       That included the very couple that had introduced them to each other in the summer of 1945. Those two people were the only married couple housed -- in an attic room -- at the former factory converted into a safe shelter for women Holocaust survivors who had returned to Amsterdam.

     The man knew Dad from boyhood days in Amsterdam. The woman was Mom's best friend at Auschwitz; they had been in elementary school together and had reunited while standing in line after they got out of the cattle-car transport to the concentration camp.

     After they survived the Holocaust, that couple moved to Israel, specifically to Narahija.

      Which brings us to today, to this past week and Hamas' invasion of Israel. 

       Because -- as I've been asked repeatedly this week -- we do have distant connections in Israel.

      That couple's granddaughter is now on active duty with the Israel military.

      A grandson and granddaughter of Mom's favorite first cousin (Maurits) in Amsterdam, and the granddaughter's husband (a tank driver) are reservists called to active duty. 

      Maurits' son married an Israeli girl; they live in Jerusalem. And Maurits' daughter, who lives in Antwerp, Belgium, has four children living in Israel, but -- because they are Belgian citizens -- none are in the service. 

     (Maurits' children are our second cousins, once removed. At least, that's the best we can figure.)

---  

      Can tell you this: Grateful that Mom and Dad are not around to endure this latest invasion of Israel. They would have been extremely concerned.

      Because that's how they were in 1967 (the "Six-Day War" and 1973 (the Yom Kippur War) when Arab military forces invaded Israel.

       Television news then wasn't 24-7 -- Shreveport had only three TV stations and three networks -- but Mom watched (and worried) every report. Dad was working at the pipeyard, but I know he and the people there were paying attention.

       I think about this now because we've had the news on constantly here. 

      Thought about writing about baseball -- how much I've watched this Texas Rangers' season -- or football (LSU, Louisiana Tech and the Dallas Cowboys are always topics of interest in this apartment). 

      Wanted to say how good the Rangers have been and how good it feels for their fans. Same for the Houston Astros and their Yankees-like dynasty of the past seven years.

       But writing about athletics just didn't seem right this week. (Maybe if a certain team had recaptured its glory of so many decades I might be more involved, but that hasn't happened in 14 seasons. So there.)

        No, there is sadness here for all those deaths and injured in Israel, in Gaza. Not only the Jewish people, but the thousands of innocent Palestinians. They, too, are victims of Hamas, and Israel's penchant -- determination -- for revenge.

       No winners in this. None. No end in sight.

       Sad.

       And when I heard on TV someone say that "people died just because they were Jewish," I thought, yes, that's how it was for our grandparents, uncles and aunts, Mom and Dad's first spouses, plus their many uncles, aunts and cousins.

      Even through many good times, Mom and Dad never forgot. Nor do we ever forget, and we shouldn't.

      We want Israel to survive and thrive. But we, too, want the Palestinians to have peace and good times.

      We are for peace, period.

      I know those two people who took those wedding vows -- who committed to each other -- on October 14, 1946, would approve of that.

      They were blessed, and so were we. We wish the same for millions of others.          

          

A hectic first night at the Star-Telegram

    When No. 3-ranked Texas and No. 12-ranked Oklahoma -- both 5-0 and on their Big 12 farewell tour -- meet Saturday afternoon at the Cotton Bowl, it will remind me of ... 2001.

     Similar scenario, another monumental Red River Rivalry football game.

    But what I remember about 2001's meeting is not the game; it's the night before. Friday, October 5, 2001.

     My first night working at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram. One of the most memorable -- and most important -- work shifts in a five-decade career.

    It would change lives, Beatrice and me and our kids. 

    As happened far too often, I needed a job. And here was a prospective one.

    Had been in contact with the Star-Telegram sports editor, Celeste Williams, and had an advantage -- a recommendation from a friend with a Shreveport newspaper connection.

    So when Celeste invited me for a "tryout" or "audition," I made the trip from Knoxville, Tennessee -- where we'd been for six years -- through Shreveport (to see my parents) and into a city where the West begins, but where I'd rarely been.

     (Had two other job chances then, in Marshall, Texas -- only 40 miles from Shreveport and the aging Rose and Louis -- and in Orlando, Florida. But neither felt like a fit.)

      It was an unsettling time for us; let's sum it up with "personal problems." But what great fortune the trip to Fort Worth was.

       And what an unforgettable night at the Star-Telegram. I'd never seen anything like it. It was a helluva challenge.

       Worked my tail off that night (we all did); met a whole bunch of strangers, some of whom would become very good friends. Found a staff so talented and so deep (numbers-wise). 

      Had the privilege of working for a sports editor who was wise and organized and loyal, and would become a person we so loved and admired (and lost far too soon). Made our home in an area where I'd always wanted to be, and at one of the most-established newspapers in this part of the country.    

      Had interviewed with the Dallas Morning News sports department in early 1982, and had a brief dalliance with Star-Telegram sports in summer of 1995. Neither was the right time, right place.

      But this time -- early October 2001 -- was my chance. Boom!

---

      The country was in a mess, the September 11 attacks still on everyone's mind. Travel by airplane was still uncertain, so I made the long drive (11 hours to Shreveport).

The tornado-wrecked Tower

     Fort Worth had a visible scar, too -- the many shattered windows of The Tower, the 35-story building a long foul ball away from the Star-Telegram office in downtown. It had been struck by the F3 tornado a year and a half earlier; the talk was that it was going to be demolished (it wasn't). 

     My connection to the S-T was Lois Norder, a managing editor (in charge of terrorism-related coverage) and also editor of the paper's Northeast edition. In the mid-1980s, we had been at the Shreveport Journal; she was a star reporter/writer, and so was her husband, Steve. It was a wonderful time at the Journal.

      So, a Friday night in Fort Worth, and I quickly was amazed at the personnel in the sports department. More than 30 people -- four assistant sports editors, three copy "chiefs" (final proofers, approve or rewrite headlines), a Sunday-section editor, three high-school editors, nine copy editors (like me), eight page designers, three "agate" scoreboard editors ... and later a dozen parttimers to take high school call-in statistics and game details.

     (Came to learn that we had 85 fulltime people in sports, and about 40 "stringers" or parttimers. Not making this up. The Star-Telegram, in the early 2000s,  was what I called "fat" in personnel. And, yes, we were among the best sports sections in the country. The awards received in those years proved that.)

     What an operation it was, especially that night.  (Turned out, there were many nights like this.)

     What made it extra challenging was this: A Barry Bonds "special" section that was pending.

     Bonds, with 70 home runs, needed one to break  Mark McGwire's single-season record (set in 1998).  The San Francisco Giants were playing on the West Coast, and would not start until 9 p.m. our time.

    A four-page section was planned, if it happened.  

    But also there was a 16-page regular sports section, and an eight-page high school section (with three separate "zone" editions). I'd never experienced that kind of volume.

    So when I got the "duty roster," with copy-editor assignments, it was just a bit daunting. 

    Plus, a bunch of strangers around me, and yet another strange computer system to battle.

    Vince Langford was one of the sports copy desk assignment gurus, and a great help. He would become one of my best friends there (and a super talent, with words and sports knowledge). 

     He was sitting closeby, guiding me through stories.  I work quickly, so he kept giving me stories. I hadn't worked in a couple of months, so I was eager, and it was exciting.

       We were waiting on the Bonds saga, but meanwhile, here is the scope of what that night was like, how many stories we worked ...

Sports front page -- Oct. 6, 2001

      -- The Texas-OU advance pages, several stories, a position-by-position breakdown. It was the first Longhorns-Sooners game with both teams ranked in the top five in 17 years (OU was No. 3; UT No. 5); the Sooners were the defending national champion and had a 17-game winning streak, but had squeezed past Kansas State 38-37 the week before.

     -- College football advance stories ... Wendell Barnhouse's whole page of stories (he was covering Florida-at-LSU that Saturday, features (one on Tennessee wide receiver Kelley Washington, who had caught 11 passes for 256 yards against LSU the previous Saturday, a game the kids and I attended in Knoxville; Vols won 26-18. But LSU got even that December in the SEC Championship Game).

    -- It was a Texas Motor Speedway weekend -- a NASCAR Craftsman Trucks race that night, an Indy Racing League 300 on Saturday.

    -- The Dallas Stars played their first-ever regular-season game at the $46 million American Airlines Center, a 4-1 victory against Nashville. So a Jim Reeves column and several stories on the game.

     -- The Texas Rangers were playing a late game at Seattle; the Mariners had beaten them 16-1 on Thursday night (coverage in the Saturday paper). Alex Rodriguez hit his 52nd home run for the only Rangers run; Rafael Palmeiro had two of their four hits. Seattle had a spectacular 114-45 record; the Rangers were only 42 games behind them in the standings.)

   -- The Dallas Cowboys, with Dave Campo as head coach, were 0-3 and getting ready to play at Oakland, and rookie QB Quincy Carter was about to make his first start. (They lost 28-21 that Sunday.)

    -- The Dallas Mavericks were in training camp, with a young owner (Mark Cuban), an innovative head coach (Don Nelson), and three star players (Michael Finley, and two young superstars-in-the-making, Steve Nash and a 7-foot German guy who had a great shooting touch, Dirk Nowitzki.

    -- There was quarter-horse racing at Lone Star Park.

    All these elements had one or multiple stories.

     And then there was high school football. I knew what Friday nights were like in the fall, but this was a mad scramble -- game after game story to work, first-come basis.

    So, about 40 games covered, with 20 full stories to work. I remember editing a Brownwood vs. Stephenville story, not knowing how huge a rivalry that was. 

   All this, and -- while high school games are coming in -- we're watching Bonds' at-bats in San Francisco. 

     Luckily, in the first inning, he hit No. 71 off Chan Ho Park. So, the Bonds special section was in play. More work for everyone. And while we started editing that copy, Bonds hit No. 72 -- again off Park -- in the third inning. More work.

     One memory: The deadline for pages to go to print was midnight. As I recall, we finished up closer to 1 a.m. We were a bit overloaded.

---

     I sat across from a veteran sports department guy named Don Bowman. Didn't take long to realize he was funny, outrageous, knew his sports, was an extreme University of Maryland/Oakland A's/Washington baseball fan, and was talented. We lost him far too soon, too, and too suddenly.

     As it happened, the desk where I was working was Jeff Wilson's. He was helping with auto-racing coverage that night. He would become a friend, and his talent has him now covering the Texas Rangers and TCU. And one of the S-T's top sports columnists was Gil LeBreton, an old friend from LSU and New Orleans.

     One guy not working that night came in with his kid in a stroller to see his wife (who also worked at the paper). I knew his face, couldn't remember his name. Asked, and -- aha! (Andy Clay) -- I had worked with him in Jacksonville, Florida, about a decade earlier.

      And one funny moment: One of the sports copy editors came up to introduce himself: Jerry Barnes. "Nice to meet you," I said. "Oh, we've met before," Jerry said, smiling. "I was sitting next to you at the [Centenary College] Gold Dome the night you threw the basketball at an official (who was a friend of his)."

      Oops. Yes, in 1979, Barnes was an assistant sports information director at University of North Texas; I was the SID at Centenary. UNT's players that night were beating the hell out of our 6-11 center, Cherokee Rhone. I didn't like it. When the ball came bouncing over the media table right to me, I (not) gently directed back at an official with a (not) soft remark. I was excused from the table. (I have written a blog on that.)

    "Please don't tell anybody," I asked Barnes that night. I think he's tattled on me a few times since. We're still laughing about it.

---

    So, I ended up working some 14 to 16 stories that night ... and made an impression.

    Michele Machado, one of our page designers, laughingly recalled that when the shift was finished, she told people in the department, "That guy will never be back."

    But I knew that I wanted to work at the Star-Telegram, and told Bea that when I got back to Knoxville.

     When the shift ended, I drove to Carrollton where our son Jason was living (he had graduated from LSU and found a job in Dallas -- with travel to Tarrant County -- a few years earlier). Got up the next morning and drove to Shreveport, picked up Dad and we went to the San Jose State-at-Louisiana Tech football game that night, a one-sided Tech victory.

     Meanwhile, OU beat Texas 14-3 at the Cotton Bowl, with the memorable "Superman" tackle by OU safety Roy Williams that resulted in linebacker Teddy Lehman's 2-yard pass interception return near the end of the game clinching the victory for the Sooners.

    In a few days, Celeste called and offered me a position as a "contract" worker, not fulltime. But the pay was good, and we quickly decided to make the move from Knoxville to Fort Worth. 

     That meant leaving our Rachel behind in Knoxville, where she was a junior at the University of Tennessee. It meant being closer to the Van Thyns in Shreveport and even closer to Jason.

      No insurance coverage came with the job, but Celeste promised that the first copy-editor opening she had would be mine. Two weeks later, a copy editor left and I went fulltime, with insurance benefits. Good thing because only a few months later Bea was diagnosed with colon cancer. That insurance was a saver.

      What followed was Bea surviving two surgeries in four years, and a beautiful life still. For me, a decade at the Star-Telegram and a fulfilling end to a career. 

      Lots of good luck involved, and a first night at the S-T to remember.     

"Tanking" is still a dirty business

What Mavericks don't want to see: Team owner Mark Cuban, Luca Doncic and Kyrie 
Irving sitting togeter during another Dallas loss. (Getty Images photos)

      This blog usually focuses on the positive, trying to tell what we think is a good story.

      Not much positive about today's tale because I am writing about the state of the Dallas Mavericks.

    And that state -- pardon me -- is a bunch of crap.

     Love the team, and love the owner. Mark Cuban -- my opinion -- is one of the best team owners in sports. Or he was until a week or so ago.

      The Mavericks "tanked," no question. 

      Here is the definition I had in a blog dated July 14, 2015, on which the title was: "Tanking -- it's a dirty word."

         ("Tanking" -- losing games intentionally or not trying to bring in the best players and have the best roster possible. This, in order to finish near the bottom of the league and get a potential top-three or so draft choice next year to begin rebuilding the franchise.)

      This is the Mavericks, 2023. They purposely didn't field their best lineups to try to win games. Didn't care if they won; they actually didn't mind losing.

      For the April 7 "must-win" game against the Chicago Bulls, the Mavericks sat out five regular players and Luka Doncic, who is one of the NBA's most talented players, was in the game for 13 minutes, then sat out the rest.

      Those Mavs who did play worked hard, let for much of the first 2 1/2 quarters, and then wilted as the Bulls won 115-112.

     That sealed Dallas' non-playoff fate. Wait 'till next season. 

     Need to qualify this: I no longer care for the NBA. Haven't watched a game all season -- several seasons, actually -- and occasionally only had a game on for a few seconds when the TV accidentally went there.

     Still root for the Mavericks, but not much. I know Doncic is a wonderful, amazing offensive player. But he's too big a showoff, too big a whiner, a collector of technical fouls, for me.

      And, as with most of the current Mavericks, defense is a foreign language.

     This season's team went from a 31-26 record and fourth place in the Western Conference to a 7-18 finish after the huge trade for Kyrie Irving. Six games below .500 adds up to 11th place in the West ... and so long.

      When Doncic and Irving were in the lineup together, they were 5-11. Considering that Luka averaged 32.4 points, 8.6 rebounds and 8 assists a game, and Irving averaged 27 points and 6 assists in 20 games, that doesn't say much for the rest of the bunch. 

     Still, they were on the edge of the playoffs until ...

     But what Cuban and almost-new general manager Nico Harrison (nice first name, pal) did at the end of this NBA season just sucks.

        But to sit out five regular players -- purportedly for injuries and "rest" -- and then limit Doncic to a mere 15 minutes of play in the regular season's final game, with a glimmer of hope for winning and making the playoffs just isn't what sports should be about.

     The NBA "investigated" -- as if that was necessary -- and just announced a $750,000 fine for the Mavericks. Chump change for Cuban. Yeah, three-quarters of a million dollars.

       And it's not the first time we've had this scenario. Just hinting at it in 2015 prompted my blog then; a Metroplex columnist or two, and the radio sports talk show hosts suggested it then, maybe because Cuban mentioned it "off the record."

     Then in 2018, Cuban again raised the possibility -- on the record -- and the Association hit the Mavericks and him with a $600,000 fine.

    Here is a link to what I wrote in 2015: 

     https://nvanthyn.blogspot.com/2015/07/tanking-thats-dirty-word.html

     Said then that I could not imagine the Mavs' coach, Rick Carlisle, would have anything to do with not trying to win games.

     Carlisle took his NBA championship credentials back to the Indiana Pacers a couple of years ago -- one of my guesses is that he found Doncic hard to handle -- and so it is Jason Kidd who I guess had to follow orders and go along with the "tanking plan." 

    Kidd said "the organization" -- Cuban and Harrison -- decided to sit the half-dozen players.

     "It's not so much waving the white flag," Kidd said, according to a USA Today story. "It's decisions sometimes are hard in this business. We're trying to build a championship team. With this decision, this is maybe a step back. But hopefully it leads to going forward."

      So they are hoping for a higher draft pick, a great draw in the NBA lottery. No guarantee of that, so I question if missing the playoffs is worth it.

     And maybe this is fitting because this Mavericks team was a loser. Let's put Irving in that category (despite an NBA championship in his history when he was teamed with LeBron James in Cleveland).

      But Irving has been a malcontent at every stop. Here is a guy suspended by the NBA or his team for refusing the covid vaccinations and for endorsing an anti-semitic movie and not apologizing for doing so. 

     You'd think Cuban might've been leery of having his GM make the trade for Irving. But talent rules in the NBA, and Cuban -- always brash and innovative and, yes, fun -- is unafraid of taking chances.

      At least he kept an open mind for the trade. Then he closed that mind and had his team give less than its best effort. 

      He is a billionaire who is one of the most-fined people in NBA history. 

      Meanwhile, Irving is a free agent and the Mavericks hope to re-sign him, and hope that he and Doncic -- who might grow up one day -- will team with the No. 1 draft pick they'll add as a reward for missing the playoffs. (What are the chances?)

      Knowing Irving's past, it would be a shock if he plays in a Mavericks uniform again. 

      My view on all this: No tanks.