Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.
Matthew 5:5, KJV

Note: During Black History Month in February, most folks choose to focus on a few African-Americans who have made significant contributions to American culture.  Over the next few weeks, I have decided to do something a little different through these devotionals.  Rather than talking about persons who are viewed as national heroes like Rosa Parks or Marcus Garvey, I have decided to share with you four "persons of color" who have touched my life in very personal ways, four people who have taught me what it means to be a human being. CLG

Growing up as the son of a man who played football at Clemson had its high points.  Some of my earliest memories involve the Glaze family loading the car on Friday afternoon and heading toward those rolling hills and cooler temperatures of the Upstate.  Always we would arrive after dark to the Thunderbird Motel, where I am sure that my father must have booked a standing reservation for all home games.  My older brother and I, and later my younger brother, would be awake at the crack of dawn, excited about all that the day would offer.  Usually after some breakfast at the neighboring Howard Johnson's restaurant, the Glaze family would begin our short journey to Memorial Stadium.

At least once a season, and sometimes more, we would leave early enough in the morning to stop by Jervey, home to the athletic department.  (In those days, tailgating was not its own sport, and it was fairly easy to make your way around the campus and town a few hours before kickoff.)   My dad, with the two or three of us following closely behind, would make his way toward Jervey like a man on a mission.  And, I guess you could say, we were on a mission of sorts.  Our goal was to always to see and speak to the same two people: Coach Frank Howard, my dad's former coach, and Herman McGee, this tall, black man who worked in the training room.

I'll never forget Coach Howard.  I can still picture his bald head, his messy desk and office and the large styrofoam cup that always seemed to be on the corner of his desk as a make-shift spittoon.  Coach Howard always had a chew of tobacco in his mouth, and I found myself mesmerized by his habit.  He always had a kind word for my dad, and he always made a fuss over my brothers and me as well.  His gruff, raspy voice and laugh I can still recall.

Herman McGee, needless to say, was much different than Coach Howard.  I remember him being very tall - and very dark.  I also remember Herman's smile - he always seemed to have a smile on his face.  He too always seemed excited to see my dad, and he always made a fuss over us as well.  To me, Herman embodied that word "meek" that we find in the Beatitudes.  Not the kind of "meek" that is submissive or passive, but the definition of "meek" that my younger brother introduced me to a few years ago: "controlled strength." 

It was only until years later that I understood the irony of those annual visits to Jervey.  Within a matter of a few minutes we would visit with the most powerful and highest paid man in Clemson athletics - Coach Howard - and then, at least for a time I am sure, with the "least" powerful and probably one of the lowest paid men in Clemson athletics - Herman McGee.

I never knew much about Herman McGee's personal life, at least not directly.  Over the last six years in Clemson I have learned more about Herman and his family, and how beloved they were throughout this community.

What I did know about Herman McGee until I moved here was what I learned from my dad.  My dad loved Herman like a father.  On those occasions when we would visit with Herman in the late 1960s and early 1970s, my dad would almost always say as we were leaving, "I would have never survived here had it not been for him.  He saved my life on more than one occasion."  It was only until a few years ago as I watched the movie Rudy that I had some sense of what Herman had done for my dad and so many young men who felt isolated, homesick and in way over their heads.  Herman had been a friend, a father and a cheerleader to my dad during the worst of times, just like the Notre Dame stadium maintenance man had been for Rudy.

My father attended a segregated Clemson in the early sixties before graduating with Harvey Gantt, the first African-American student at Clemson, in 1963.  I sometimes wonder what my father's college education would have been like had it not been for Herman McGee.  Certainly it would have been incomplete.

In 1976, Herman was the first "person of color" to be elected to the Clemson Sports Hall of Fame.  He would be elected into the National Training Hall of Fame as well.  Herman would eventually serve Clemson for 46 years before retiring in 1980.

Herman McGee literally poured his life into this university and into the lives of young men, most of them white.  Despite experiencing the sting of racism not only throughout the South but all over the country as the Tigers traveled, Herman kept smiling and kept loving folks to the very end - the preacher in me would have to add - a lot like Jesus. 

This Black History Month I salute the Herman McGee's of the world.  Those folks who treat others the way that they want to be treated, but are so often not.  Those folks whose love for others transcends color, creed and status - even now.

With thanks to Herman McGee - my dad's best teacher,
lane

Rev. Lane Glaze
Director, Clemson Wesley Foundation
Campus Minister, Clemson UMC
PO Box 1703, Clemson SC 29633
864-207-9135 (m) or 864-654-5547 (o)

Feel free to forward this email to a friend. The Clemson Wesley Weekly Devotional is a ministry of Rev. Lane Glaze and the Clemson Wesley Foundation, the United Methodist Church's ministry to students on the campus of Clemson University.  The purpose of this email is to look at issues relevant to the life of Clemson students through the lens of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. If you would like your name added to this list, email Lane at glaze@clemson.edu