STATE COLLEGE — The Spring Creek Presbyterian Cemetery is not unlike many cemeteries in small-town America. Some of the graves are marked with large, handsome headstones. Others, put there early in the 20th century, are smaller, clustered tightly together. There are military flags posted next to some; small bouquets of flowers laid near others.
On a gray Friday afternoon, two women stood and gazed down at an unmarked grave at the far end of the cemetery, near a tree line. The dirt had recently been moved there, but there were only two other signs that someone had been laid to rest: a set of muddy tire tracks leading toward the grave and a large floral arrangement lying on the dirt — white roses, mostly, with threads of blue ribbon interspersed. There had been other visitors; there were other stems laid next to the original arrangement, which was part of the arrangement that had rested atop the casket of Joseph Vincent Paterno during his public viewing a few days earlier.
Nearly a full week of goodbyes and tributes to Penn State’s most famous figure had gone by, during which thousands had shown up to pay their respects to a man who was never much for public spectacle.
“He never took a compliment,” Kenny Jackson, who both played and coached for Paterno and was one of the few players who had a chance to see him in his final days, said during Thursday’s memorial service. “He always deflected praise. He never thought he was the show. But today, my teacher, you have no choice. Today we are going to show you how much we love you.”
The Penn State community showed Paterno those feelings, in various ways, for several days after the longtime coach died last Sunday at age 85 of metastatic lung cancer.
Fans say goodbye
On Tuesday, thousands of well-wishers walked through a room in the Pasquerilla Spiritual Center on the Penn State campus. They paused briefly at that floral arrangement and the casket that it adorned. The only sounds in the room were the rapid clicks of camera shutters and the brisk slapping of hands onto heavy winter jackets as two of Paterno’s sons, Jay and Scott, hugged the patrons just before they exited. Most had waited more than an hour in the frigid Pennsylvania air for the chance to say the briefest of goodbyes. Jay would later say he had shaken hands with people from five continents, and he thought to himself, “Was this the result of a life just coaching football?”
The line had started near the Borland Building, which not so long ago had housed the University Creamery, made famous in part by the Peachy Paterno flavor of ice cream. It continued past the Palmer Museum of Art and the Forum Building, then made its way to the spiritual center that the Paternos had helped build, across from the library they had helped to remodel more than 30 years after they had met there, the football coach and the tutor.
More than 20,000 people passed through the center on Tuesday. Among them was the man who had met Paterno more than 20 years earlier at their shared alma mater, Brown University. Bill O’Brien, who became Paterno’s successor earlier this month, had a Super Bowl to prepare for. But he wanted to set aside some time to honor Paterno and assure a room full of more than 800 of his former players that he would do his best to move the program forward in a way that would honor the coach.
“Any time you take a job where the head football coach was there 61 years, 46 as the head coach, there’s always going to be a certain amount of people that aren’t real happy with that change,” O’Brien had said the day before. “And all we can do is work really hard to continue to be successful on the field, to be successful with our graduation rates, successful in the community, and then hopefully we will have earned their respect. It’s going to take time. We know that.”
Family gathers
The sun came out on Wednesday, and the skies were clear enough that the helicopters buzzing above campus were visible for miles. Early that afternoon, there was once again a crowd outside the spiritual center. A private service for family and former players and coaches was being held inside, but fans packed the sidewalk along Allen Road as they waited for Paterno’s procession to the cemetery to begin. They told stories, like the time Paterno met Paul McCartney at a Rose Bowl reception a few years ago and — to McCartney’s disbelief — had no idea who the former Beatle was.
A few minutes before the procession made its way through campus and into downtown State College, as the first few attendees of the service began to work their way to the buses and their cars, Scott Paterno got behind the wheel of his silver Audi sedan and put his head in his hand. For a brief moment, he was alone with his thoughts.
He wouldn’t be alone for long.
Out they came, a few at a time, the men who had been the pieces with which Joe Paterno had built his legacy. Franco Harris, who went on to make the Immaculate Reception and then spent much of Paterno’s final days telling people the coach had deserved better treatment from the university.
Ki-Jana Carter, who turned the corner on the toss sweep like few others. Jackson and O.J. McDuffie, the smooth, fluid receivers who went on to lengthy pro careers.
Brandon Short, one of a line of many great linebackers. They were all in fantastic shape, all a little more gray around the temples. And their faces were marked with sadness. They stopped to wrap their arms around Scott.
A few minutes later, the hearse that would carry his father to his final resting place, a blue Cadillac, pulled onto the street.
The planned procession route went past Beaver Stadium, hung a right at Porter Road, then went down College Avenue. But the map never indicated where it would go after that.
So more fans waited. They parked at the Waffle Shop out on West College, where so many had gone for pregame breakfasts before watching Paterno’s teams over the years. Some stood on the curb across the street at the entrance to the Penn State golf courses.
At the Minit Mart, some waited in their cars, which were pointed toward the street. An older couple quietly paced the sidewalk. A family spread out a blanket on the cement. Young boys nibbled on snacks while two young girls wearing white Penn State sweatshirts craned their necks as they looked down the street. One held a sign that read “God Bless Joe Pa” and other read “We Love You Sue Pa.”
“Basketball practice starts at 5,” their mother said about 15 minutes before the hour.
Shortly after, she got a call on her cellphone. The procession had turned left off of College onto Atherton Street. The coach wasn’t coming.
But they, and everyone else, would have one more chance to bid Paterno farewell.
Honoring a life, legacy
Bernie Punt has been the director of sales and marketing for the Bryce Jordan Center since the 15,000-seat multipurpose arena opened its doors in January 1996. He has brought Elton John, Billy Joel, Rihanna and Britney Spears to State College, and he has earned a reputation for creative promotions to boost ticket sales for less popular acts.
Penn State made 10,000 tickets available for Paterno’s memorial service online. They were gone in minutes.
So Thursday afternoon, as he watched his building fill with people for what was the first public memorial service in the 16-year history of the Jordan Center, Punt stood at one of the mezzanine portals and snapped a picture of the crowd with his phone. Like everyone else, he was preserving the history.
Sue Paterno, on the arm of her son, David, entered the main floor to wide applause. One by one, she gathered her grandchildren — who were watching themselves on the scoreboard video above — in her arms.
Each of the seven former players who spoke at the service thanked the Paterno family for sharing the coach with the team and everyone else — not only for the duration of his career, but during a trying week for the family. The family returned that thanks in a moving final speech by Jay Paterno.
“We thank everyone for the prayers, the notes, support, vigils and outpouring of emotion,” Jay said. “It has reinforced our belief in generosity of the human spirit amidst challenging times in our family life.”
For many, Paterno’s death signaled an end of an era. For others, it was an opportunity to mark a legacy brought full circle.
“For me it means that there is still much to do in this world,” said former player Charlie Pittman, “and those who believed and still believe in Joe’s spirit must still continue in that Grand Experiment. It is needed now more than ever. Rest in peace, coach. We’ll take it from here.”
Jeff Rice can be reached at 231-4609.
