Jerry LeVias Article...
Posted: Mon Feb 05, 2007 10:39 amon front page of today's DMN Metro section:
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent ... ef8c2.html
Levias learned much while breaking SWC's color barrier
At SMU for an education, he found it on the field
11:26 PM CST on Sunday, February 4, 2007
By MICHAEL E. YOUNG / The Dallas Morning News
[email protected]
Jerry LeVias grew up in Beaumont painfully acquainted with the reality of racism.
"I'm not a brave man," he said, "and in the '60s, watching people get shot, hanged, dogs biting on them – I'm not that kind of guy."
But when Southern Methodist University football coach Hayden Fry came to talk in the spring of 1965, conferring with Mr. LeVias' grandmother and his parents and touting the educational opportunities at SMU, the highly recruited athlete accepted a scholarship. In doing so, he became the first black scholarship football player in the Southwest Conference.
Also Online
More Black History Month stories
The decision changed the game in the conference and made Mr. LeVias a pioneer – and a target.
"But we didn't even talk about that," he said. "We talked about education.
"I had 100-plus offers from schools around the country, but no one else talked with me about education that way," Mr. LeVias said.
Mr. Fry "showed interest in me as a person like no other coach had done."
Their relationship only deepened over the next four years. In large part, that bond kept Mr. LeVias at SMU when every part of him screamed that it was time to walk away.
"I tell people I didn't have a college life," he said. "Basically, the only interaction I had was football. I never did have a roommate. No one ever invited me to hang out. The other students didn't want to sit by me. They'd stand instead."
It wasn't much better on the football team.
"We didn't publicize a lot of the things that were happening, but we had athletes threatening to quit the team, and some alumni threatening to pull their support. But Coach Fry was very good," Mr. LeVias said. "We'd talk, and he'd tell me, 'If you don't want them to get your goat, don't tell them where it's hid.'
"So I hid my aches and pains, my frustrations and embarrassments when I was spit on, when they called me those kinds of names."
His faith helped to sustain him. And he wanted to please his father, who taught him that when you give your word, you keep it.
"I'd told them I'd go to SMU," he said, "and I wanted my father's blessing and admiration. But to tell you I didn't want to quit a bunch of times wouldn't be telling you the truth."
And if things were bad in class, they were far worse on the football field. Opposing players punched and kicked him after tackles. They gouged his eyes so badly he had to have surgery. But they never stopped him.
He was named All-Conference in each of his three varsity seasons at SMU, second-team All-America as a junior and first-team All-America and Academic All-America as a senior. His accomplishments at SMU eventually landed him in the College Football Hall of Fame.
But it was never easy.
"When I threatened to leave, I'd talk late at night with Coach Fry. I'd get in there, I'm complaining and he'd look at me with those eyes and say, 'Levi, what do you want me to do?'
"He called me 'Levi' when he was pleased with me and 'Jerry' when he was upset. I'd hear 'Jerry!' and I'd think, 'Oh no.' "
But Coach Fry never wavered in his sense of responsibility to Mr. LeVias and his family.
"He promised my grandmother that I would call her before every game to get prayer and he made sure I did that," Mr. LeVias said. "One time we were playing at the University of Texas and he asked, 'Levi, did you talk with your grandmother?' and I said, 'No, the line was busy.'
"The team was on the field and he took me back inside and got in the phone booth with me to call her. He had a word of honor, and he kept his word."
Mr. LeVias enjoyed a six-year pro career as a wide receiver for the Houston Oilers and San Diego Chargers.
The passing of 40 years has brought healing and some change, too.
Now when he goes back to SMU gatherings of his teammates, the acceptance is immediate and real.
"I get a pretty good reception," Mr. LeVias said.
And he offers the same.
"I don't have any hate in my heart," he said. "I have compassion and understanding. That's where I am in my life."
Still, he wishes his four years at SMU had been different, that he felt the same acceptance then as he does now. But it was a different time, and he was breaking long-held traditions.
"Being in the forefront of change is like being the hood ornament on an automobile," Mr. LeVias said.
"You catch all the bugs."
http://www.dallasnews.com/sharedcontent ... ef8c2.html
Levias learned much while breaking SWC's color barrier
At SMU for an education, he found it on the field
11:26 PM CST on Sunday, February 4, 2007
By MICHAEL E. YOUNG / The Dallas Morning News
[email protected]
Jerry LeVias grew up in Beaumont painfully acquainted with the reality of racism.
"I'm not a brave man," he said, "and in the '60s, watching people get shot, hanged, dogs biting on them – I'm not that kind of guy."
But when Southern Methodist University football coach Hayden Fry came to talk in the spring of 1965, conferring with Mr. LeVias' grandmother and his parents and touting the educational opportunities at SMU, the highly recruited athlete accepted a scholarship. In doing so, he became the first black scholarship football player in the Southwest Conference.
Also Online
More Black History Month stories
The decision changed the game in the conference and made Mr. LeVias a pioneer – and a target.
"But we didn't even talk about that," he said. "We talked about education.
"I had 100-plus offers from schools around the country, but no one else talked with me about education that way," Mr. LeVias said.
Mr. Fry "showed interest in me as a person like no other coach had done."
Their relationship only deepened over the next four years. In large part, that bond kept Mr. LeVias at SMU when every part of him screamed that it was time to walk away.
"I tell people I didn't have a college life," he said. "Basically, the only interaction I had was football. I never did have a roommate. No one ever invited me to hang out. The other students didn't want to sit by me. They'd stand instead."
It wasn't much better on the football team.
"We didn't publicize a lot of the things that were happening, but we had athletes threatening to quit the team, and some alumni threatening to pull their support. But Coach Fry was very good," Mr. LeVias said. "We'd talk, and he'd tell me, 'If you don't want them to get your goat, don't tell them where it's hid.'
"So I hid my aches and pains, my frustrations and embarrassments when I was spit on, when they called me those kinds of names."
His faith helped to sustain him. And he wanted to please his father, who taught him that when you give your word, you keep it.
"I'd told them I'd go to SMU," he said, "and I wanted my father's blessing and admiration. But to tell you I didn't want to quit a bunch of times wouldn't be telling you the truth."
And if things were bad in class, they were far worse on the football field. Opposing players punched and kicked him after tackles. They gouged his eyes so badly he had to have surgery. But they never stopped him.
He was named All-Conference in each of his three varsity seasons at SMU, second-team All-America as a junior and first-team All-America and Academic All-America as a senior. His accomplishments at SMU eventually landed him in the College Football Hall of Fame.
But it was never easy.
"When I threatened to leave, I'd talk late at night with Coach Fry. I'd get in there, I'm complaining and he'd look at me with those eyes and say, 'Levi, what do you want me to do?'
"He called me 'Levi' when he was pleased with me and 'Jerry' when he was upset. I'd hear 'Jerry!' and I'd think, 'Oh no.' "
But Coach Fry never wavered in his sense of responsibility to Mr. LeVias and his family.
"He promised my grandmother that I would call her before every game to get prayer and he made sure I did that," Mr. LeVias said. "One time we were playing at the University of Texas and he asked, 'Levi, did you talk with your grandmother?' and I said, 'No, the line was busy.'
"The team was on the field and he took me back inside and got in the phone booth with me to call her. He had a word of honor, and he kept his word."
Mr. LeVias enjoyed a six-year pro career as a wide receiver for the Houston Oilers and San Diego Chargers.
The passing of 40 years has brought healing and some change, too.
Now when he goes back to SMU gatherings of his teammates, the acceptance is immediate and real.
"I get a pretty good reception," Mr. LeVias said.
And he offers the same.
"I don't have any hate in my heart," he said. "I have compassion and understanding. That's where I am in my life."
Still, he wishes his four years at SMU had been different, that he felt the same acceptance then as he does now. But it was a different time, and he was breaking long-held traditions.
"Being in the forefront of change is like being the hood ornament on an automobile," Mr. LeVias said.
"You catch all the bugs."
