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Award-winning columnist Tom Archdeacon — an old-school storyteller in a brand-new venue — writes about sports, the city, southwest Ohio and anything else that catches his fancy… or yours.Home > Blogs > Through the Arch > Archives > 2009 > July > 10
Friday, July 10, 2009
Mellencamp Steals the Show
What a a great night to be in Dayton.
That might not be something NCR president Bill Nuti ever said, but then he wasn’t at Fifth Third Field Friday night for the Bob Dylan, John Mellencamp and Willie Nelson show.
Let me tell you this right off, Mellencamp flat out stole the show. He energized the crowd that jammed the field around the stage and filled many of the seating sections in the two-tier ball park.
I loved everything he did: “Pink Houses,” “Rain of the Scarecrow” and especially “Small Town.” Maybe that’s because I’m from a small town, too. One that’s a lot smaller than Seymour.
“Educated in a small town
Taught the fear of Jesus in a small town
Used to daydream in that small town
Another boring romantic that’s me.”
One of the best moments of the night was seeing Willie Nelson share the stage with his son.
I know Dylan was the headliner of the five-hour show, but a lot of people cleared out as he went through his set.
I hope they didn’t miss ” Highway 61 Revisited”:
“Oh God said to Abraham, “Kill me a son”
Abe says, “Man, you must be puttin’ me on”
God say, “No.” Abe say, “What ?”
God say, “You can do what you want Abe, but
The next time you see me comin’ you better run”
Well Abe says, “Where do you want this killin’done ?”
God says. “Out on Highway 61”.
That was a magical moment. A perfect night. not too hot, a breeze. This little man beneath a big white hat on the illuminated stage. The tower on St Joe’s Catholic Church lit up on Second Street with a bright burning cross on the top. The clock tower at St. John United Church of Christ gleaming through the darkness a block beyond that on Third.
People lining the top of the McCormick Building at Sears and First and up on the Requarth Lumber building across Monument from left field and all along the sidewalks that flank the ball park.
I saw John Drake at Fifth Third. He runs the boxing gym downtown and he told me Dylan’s bass player stopped in Friday to work out, then gave him two tickets to the show.
Although I got a Mellencamp T-shirt and my wife got one picturing Dylan, I saw some guy wearing the shirt I really wanted.
It read “Growing Old — Disgracefully.”
TweetCOLUMN: Blake LaForce — Mission Accomplished
The 20-month ordeal — that galvanized a high school and a community — was ending with one poignant scene.
The funeral service — actually a Celebration of the Life of Blake LaForce, the popular, 18-year-old Vandalia Butler High football star who died Friday, July 3, from the staggering complications that followed his battle with leukemia — was over.
Almost 1,000 people had packed into the Christian Life Center on Little York Road, Wednesday, for two hours of tears, shared loved and laughter, especially when Blake’s cousin, Jack, showed a video clip of he and Blake as toddlers, both wearing Cleveland Browns’ No. 19 Bernie Kosar uniforms as they took turns tackling each other.
Now Blake’s metallic blue casket — covered with a large spray of white orchids, roses and lilies — was resting on supports at his grave site beneath a big magnolia tree at Memorial Park Cemetery.
His family, classmates and Aviator teammates were gathered there for the final prayers and finally, after Blake’s mom, Linda, had come up and taken a flower, his dad, Mark, stepped forward.
“Good job, 41,” he said in a half whisper. “Mission accomplished.”
There weren’t many dry eyes by then, but there were nods of affirmation that later — at a reception at the AmVets on Brown School Road — were put to words:
“He brought our entire class together,” said Jennifer Schmitz, the president of Blake’s class of 2009. “Because of him, we all focused on one goal this year — life is precious.”
Jarrod Hamby, an Aviators defensive end, agreed: “He made us try to live life to the fullest. Made us closer to God, closer to our family and made us cherish our friends.”
These aren’t just hollow platitudes or overblown sentiments. Blake’s classmates, his community, his family — even complete strangers he touched — walked this talk.
Lauren, Blake’s older sister, recounted a hospital room conversation with her brother two days after his diagnosis in November of 2007: “He knew Lord had given him a mission.”
He believed it was to use himself as an example to change people for the better and he did it in ways small and big. Last Sunday at The NorthGate Church in Vandalia, 42 of Blake’s friends stepped forward and committed themselves to Christ.
Over the past 20 months the community — watching the courageous, stoic way Blake fought — held fund-raisers and rallies that drew thousands of people. Over 120,000 people followed the daily web journal his dad wrote. A scholarship fund is being started in his name.
As Blake’s brother John put it: “He made the community better and the community made us better. Blake touched everybody.”
And that’s when he remembered one mourner from the 1,500 or so who had come to the wake:
“There was this little boy, a peewee football player. He said he had followed Blake before he had gotten sick and said Blake was his hero. Then he just started bawling. And that got me going, too.”
Finally, it was the little boy who offered the perfect comfort.
“He told me he wears No. 41 now and that he always will,” John said. “He said he wants to grow up and be just like Blake.”
Mission accomplished.
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