Posts filed under ‘Joe Paterno’
Sculptor Knew His Creation Could Become Iconic
Sara Platz Brennan '92 took this photo of Angelo DiMaria's statue shortly after Joe Paterno's death.
The request was unusual. Sculptors don’t often receive commissions for living people, says Angelo DiMaria, who’s made his living as a sculptor for decades. But about in 2001, he was asked to sculpt the likeness of Joe Paterno, who was approaching his 324th victory.
DiMaria, although he lives in Berks County, Pa., had never seen a football game. He’d never been to Penn State. But he quickly realized the project’s importance. “We knew that this was going to become a mecca,” he says. “A tremendous monument. Although Joe Paterno didn’t really want the statue up. He was very humble about it.”
And DiMaria’s statue, located on the east side of Beaver Stadium since November 2001, has become a place for Penn Staters—including Jay Paterno—to gather and remember and mourn. When I drove past just before 8 a.m. Friday, the candles and notes and flowers surrounding the statue were nearly spilling over into Porter Road.
The statue was a surprise for Paterno, meaning he couldn’t pose for DiMaria. And DiMaria sculpts from photographs, anyway. So he went to Beaver Stadium “disguised as a reporter, with a tag around my neck,” he recalls, and was astounded by it. “It was an experience just to be there,” he says. “It looked like a giant spaceship, like in outer space somewhere.”
DiMaria snapped more than 100 photographs, then went back to his studio and worked on an 18-inch model to show the Paterno family for approval. He spent most of his time working to make the face—the portrait, he calls it—exactly right. “It’s something almost mystical when I do a portrait shot of someone,” he says. “It’s not enough just to get the features perfectly. You have to have that extra. I don’t know where that comes from. … You have to capture the spirit of that person.”
His assistants helped to cast the full-size model, which is bronze, 7 feet tall, and weighs more than 900 pounds. (And the statue’s raised finger, DiMaria says, has been misinterpreted; it’s not about Joe Paterno himself: “The pointed finger in the air stands for State College. Penn State. We’re No. 1, not Joe Paterno No. 1. But obviously he is No. 1, of course.”)
In our May/June 2002 issue, we published a photograph of graduates posing with the statue and noted, that it “already is beginning to challenge the Nittany Lion Shrine’s current standing as the best place for a photo op.” The connection many students and alums feel to the statue—and Paterno—was evident in November, when rumors repeatedly surfaced that the statue would be removed in the wake of the Sandusky scandal and Paterno’s firing. Even repeated denials by president Rodney Erickson couldn’t stop the rumors.
Those rumors distressed DiMaria, too, and he’s pleased that it’s no longer a worry. “They can’t dare take it down now,” he says. “It would be traumatic. There are too many emotions involved.”
DiMaria never met his subject, which is kind of a shame—he grew up in Sicily, and no doubt would have had plenty to talk about with a fellow Italian. “It was just an honor to do the statue,” he says. “I’m happy with that.”
Lori Shontz, senior editor
Looking Ahead
There have been a million reminders this week—on Thursday especially—about how Joe Paterno’s life was about so much more than football. And so it undeniably was. But football was the binding agent that brought Penn Staters together during Paterno’s tenure, and the medium by which his reach was able to extend so far. It mattered here, as it does in many places, and I have no doubt it still does.
I thought about this late Thursday when I came across this article on SI.com about Penn State’s 2012 recruiting class. On one level, there should be nothing further from our minds this week, but as an alum and season ticket holder, I know it won’t be long before I start focusing my attention on the program’s immediate future. And I know I’m hardly alone.
None of us can predict how Bill O’Brien and his staff will fare next season or in the seasons beyond, and none of us can know the impact the turmoil of the past few months will have on the program. Short-term, we know the scandal and coaching change cost Penn State some of its highly rated 2012 recruits. But most of those recruits appear ready to honor their commitment, which they’ll be able to make official on national signing day, Feb. 1.
Two of the Nittany Lions’ 2012 signees are highlighted in this piece. One, Eugene Lewis, a four-star recruit from Plymouth, Pa., is considered the best player in the Lions’ class. His father is quoted as saying that, despite interest from other schools, Lewis stayed focused on his first choice: “He loves the university. He loves the campus. It was bigger than Joe Paterno. It was Penn State that he loved.”
On the opposite end of the spectrum is Steven Bench, a three-star quarterback from rural Georgia who had previously committed to Rice but held out hope of playing at a big-time program. Again, you should read the whole story, but here’s a glimpse at how Bench responded when he stepped inside Beaver Stadium for the first time during his campus visit last weekend: “It just hit me,” he said. “You start looking around and realize how really big Beaver Stadium is. I’m not ashamed to say it. I started crying. I had made it.”
I don’t think Penn State fans will have much trouble getting behind guys like this. And I think Joe Paterno would be pleased. As Kenny Jackson ’96 said Thursday in his eulogy, Paterno “always deflected praise.” It was never about him. Fitting that his legacy lives on in the young men who played for him, but also in those who never got the chance.
Ryan Jones, senior editor
A Heartfelt Goodbye
This public information photo shows some of the 12,000 attendees at Joe Paterno's memorial service at the Bryce Jordan Center.
Father Matthew Laffey of the Penn State Catholic Center set the tone—and provided a broad outline of Joe Paterno’s life—in his opening prayer. “Thank you for this man. … How fortunate this corner of your kingdom has been.”
The details came slowly over the next two hours Thursday afternoon, as speakers at A Memorial for Joe painted pictures of the man who helped to build—and became largely synonymous with—Penn State.
We met the competitive Joe. “The bigger the game, the quieter he was in practice,” said Todd Blackledge, quarterback of the 1982 national championship team. “But the gleam in his eyes told the story.”
The literary Joe, who never called Susan Welch, dean of the College of the Liberal Arts, anything other than “Dean,” who donated millions of dollars to the library, and who clearly passed that love of literature on to his son. Here’s who Jay Paterno quoted in his closing eulogy: Sophocles, William Blatty, U2, John Adams, John Ruskin, Tennessee Williams, Martin Luther King Jr., and Arthur Ashe.
The funny Joe, so quick with a one-liner, who told Jimmy Cefalo’s mother on a recruiting visit, “Your pasta is better than Mrs. Cappelletti’s.” (more…)
‘We Can Lick the World with the Liberal Arts’
Joe Paterno giving Penn State's commencement address in 1973.
He had a degree in English Lit from an Ivy League institution. He sometimes quoted Shakespeare to his football team. Plus, he and his wife donated millions of dollars to Penn State’s library, as well as an undergraduate fellows program.
Joe Paterno always valued a liberal arts education, and here’s a look at how Paterno expressed that over the years. Many thanks to Vicki Fong ’81 — a manager of publications and public relations for Penn State’s College of the Liberal Arts — for sharing.
First, Paterno addressing a group of Paterno Fellows. “We don’t need anything else. We can lick the world with just the liberal arts,” he said, prompting chuckles from the crowd. As Vicki wrote in an email: “It always makes me smile.”
Here’s another video on what it means to be a “Paterno Professor.” Michael Berube, the Paterno Family professor in literature, says, “Wherever I go, people of course ask, ‘Is that the Paterno family?’ I say, ‘Yes, there’s only one.’ And they’re just massively impressed.”
And lastly, in case anyone’s interested, here’s a PDF that you can download of Paterno’s iconic 1973 commencement speech. My favorite part about having Paterno as the keynote speaker? Looking at who he succeeded.
There were no speakers from 1960-69. In 1970, Charles Conrad Jr,. a NASA astronaut, spoke. In 1971, it was the Earl Warren, the retired Chief Justice of the United States. In 1972, it was James A. Michener, a Pulitzer-Prize winning author. And in 1973: Joe Paterno, Nittany Lion head football coach.
Emily Kaplan, intern
Guiding Joe Home—in Silence
College Avenue as the funeral procession made its way through the crowd, as seen by our art director, Carole Otypka.
So quiet. So sad. So respectful.
Usually when College Avenue is packed with thousands of people who are standing in the middle of the street with cell phones, it’s a disaster waiting to happen. Not today.
Usually when people have to wait outside, in the cold, for well over an hour, tempers fray. Not today.
Like so many other Penn State fans, alumni, students, and employees, we the magazine staff went outside to pay our respects as Joe Paterno’s funeral procession wound through campus. We stood at the closest spot to our office, at Fraser Street and College Avenue, and waited so long that our fingers and toes froze. None of us would have missed it.
Graphic designer Jessie Knuth snapped this photo of the hearse.
The procession arrived a little before 5. First the hearse, carrying Joe’s coffin. Then the blue bus … with Sue Paterno sitting in the first seat, Joe’s seat for 46 years, one that this year’s team left empty after their coach was fired. His 17 grandchildren waved at the crowd. A few other cars and buses followed.
It was totally silent.
I was following along on Twitter—it’s worth checking out the hashtag #guidejoehome for real-time observations and emotions—so I knew that when the procession reached us, it would get quiet. It had everywhere else. But that didn’t dull the impact … wow.
Lori Shontz, senior editor
An Early Morning Goodbye
This photo from Nick Sloff '92 shows the line outside Pasquerilla Spiritual Center on Tuesday afternoon
I arrived at 6 a.m. Wednesday, nearly two hours before officials again opened the doors to Pasquerilla Spiritual Center for Joe Paterno’s viewing. And I wasn’t even the first one there.
By far. The Early Bird award goes to David Brown of Greensburg, Pa. He’s a Pitt alum, but has been a Penn State — and Paterno fan — his entire life. Brown arrived at 4 a.m. He left his house at midnight.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if there had been 1,000 fans here at 4,” Brown told me. “I just wanted to pay my respects.”
By 6:30, it was just a handful of people. The sun hadn’t risen yet and it was the type of late January morning where you could see — and feel — your breath.
By 7, there were 75 people. Fifteen minutes later, that number doubled. And at 7:40, when officials opened the doors of the Pasquerilla Spiritual Center for Joe Paterno’s viewing, the line had grown to 1,000.
Thousands of fans, supporters and members of the Penn State community are expected to pass through the spiritual center from 8 to noon Wednesday to pay their final respects to Paterno.
When I left Pasquerilla Tuesday night at about 11, police told me that “tens of thousands of people” attended Tuesday’s 10-hour window. When I walked through at 10:40, Paterno’s children, Jay ’91 and Mary Kay Hort ’86, stood by the exit and shook hands, hugged and thanked supporters who walked through. Sue Pohland ’62, was also there until the end — sitting in the chairs normally reserved for the choir, wearing a thick red coat, her arm around one of her granddaughters.
The second guy in line Wednesday had a story, too. John Myers, 70, from Tamaqua, Pa., arrived at 5 a.m. after a two-and-a half hour drive.
“It was worth it,” he said.
Myers has been a Penn State fan for more than 60 years. He remembers visiting State College in high school. After the last football game every year, the school would send a bus up so students could attend Penn State games. The bus cost 75 cents.
Emily Kaplan, intern
P.S. To see more of Nick’s photography work, click here to check out his blog.
A Morning Run, 324, and a Classic Commericial
On my way into the office Wednesday morning, I walked through Paterno Library, where students and fans and alumni are leaving memories of Joe on Post-It notes, some attached to bulletin boards, others stuck to a Stand-Up Joe.
Among the snippets that stood out:
Waved and asked how I was during my morning run.
You’ve made a proud Paterno Fellow out of me.
” … and all you cool cats.” JoePa at Football Eve 2009.
Joe, I love you. 324.
B10 commercial. Come to Penn State.
The last is my favorite, I’ll admit. The Big Ten Network commercial from a couple of years back is hilarious; it’s Joe at his most deranged. Here’s a YouTube version that’s a little fuzzy. Watch to the end. Enjoy.
Lori Shontz, senior editor
Waiting Hours for Just a Moment, With No Complaints
I walked from my office to the Pasquerilla Spiritual Center a little after 1 p.m. Tuesday, thinking I might be early enough to beat the crowds. I wasn’t close.
Heading toward the tail end of a line that snaked back and forth through the Pasquerilla courtyard, Disneyland-style, stretched east on the sidewalk along Curtin Road, and at times extended north onto Shortlidge Road almost to Park Avenue, I got a sense of the crowd that already had turned out for Joe Paterno. This was in the first hour of a 10-hour viewing window on Tuesday, with four more hours scheduled Wednesday morning. This was no surprise.
I joined the crowd and spent two hours in line, all but the last 10 minutes of it outside, before the final stretch. We entered the spiritual center through a side door, shuffled down a hallway and entered the main lobby, where a few more turns of the line finally led us into the main auditorium. The clumps of people thinned into a slow but steadily moving single file, which continued down the aisle on the left side of the large, high-ceilinged room. At the front lay a casket, adorned with flowers.
We turned right, the casket on our left, the already indelible black-and-white image of Paterno, arms crossed and smiling, the only other adornment. On each side of the casket stood a large young man—former Nittany Lion quarterback Daryll Clark ’08 and a current player I didn’t recognize—part of the “honor guard” of lettermen who took turns aside their coach on the stage. The line had moved much more slowly in the early going, as some of those who’d come to pay their respects paused 15 or 20 seconds for prayer and reflection, a practice that must’ve been discouraged by funeral officials mindful of the tens of thousands still to come. By the time I got there, it seemed instinctive for each of us to stop for just a beat before moving on.
Jay Paterno ’91 stood for a time not far from the exit, shaking every hand presented him. I’m told his brother Scott ’97 did the same at other times during the 10-hour public viewing. I don’t know if their other siblings or Joe’s widow, Sue ’62, met the crowd, it seems safe to assume they did. The Paterno family has made no secret of their appreciation for the public support they’ve received over the past few months.
A friend who was an hour or so behind me in line texted me later to tell me that Tom Bradley ’78, Paterno’s former player, longtime assistant, and interim replacement, had made his way down the line on Curtin Road. As far as my friend could tell, Bradley shook the hand of every person in the line and offered the same words to each of them: “Thanks for coming out for Coach.”
Ryan Jones, senior editor
A Timely Class in Journalism Ethics
From our intern, Emily Kaplan:
Over the weekend, a friend of mine tweeted: Boy, what I would do to sit in on a journalism ethics class at Penn State this week.
I am fortunate to be enrolled in that course this semester—COMM 409: News Media Ethics, a section taught by Malcolm Moran, a veteran journalist and head of Penn State’s John Curley Center for Sports Journalism.
My friend was right—Tuesday’s lesson was never more relevant. When I walked in, I had pretty good feeling we wouldn’t be discussing the assigned reading on the syllabus. Not after a weekend where dubious reporting and social media gone wild resulted in an announcement that the most recognizable face of this university had died—when in fact, he was still alive.
“There’s nothing more important to be right about than if an important figure is alive or not,” Moran said. “Nothing.”
So who better to be a guest lecturer than Mark Viera ’09? He’s the New York Times reporter who dispelled reports that Joe Paterno had passed away Saturday night by simply asking a family spokesman whether the rumors were true.
The class had a meta feel. Moran asked Viera what lessons from the course he has applied to his reporting—and what lessons couldn’t be taught in the classroom. Moran also pointed out the seat that Viera occupied just a few semesters ago. The girl sitting there now has some big shoes to fill. Viera, 24, has been one of the Times’ lead journalists in Penn State coverage over the past two months because of his familiarity with the school and dogged reporting.
But Tuesday, he stood in front of about 50 of us. Everyone seemed attentive as he spoke. I don’t know whether it was respect for Moran, respect for Viera or simply respect for the subject matter, but I didn’t see one person texting under their desk or day dreaming blankly at the wall. (more…)
More Joe, From—and For—the Students
There’s a nice story this morning from the AP quoting Scott Paterno ’97, ’00 about his father’s thoughts and mood in the final days of his life. It likely won’t surprise Penn Staters to hear that Joe’s mind was sharp and his spirit strong even as his body failed him. “He was so positive and so confident at the end of his life that the things that were important about this place would endure,” Scott said. “And that’s why he was at peace. That, and (that) my mother was willing to put up with him all these years.”
Two stories today speak to Joe’s love for Penn State, and its students in particular. Mike Poorman ’82 writes at StateCollege.com about the countless interactions Paterno had with undergrads during his time in Happy Valley. Poorman, who taught “Joe Paterno, Communications & The Media” for four years in the College of Communications, took informal polls each semester and tallied the numbers:
“Out of nearly 250 kids in class from 2008-2011, 107 had a personal JoePa moment. We’re not talking football games or pep rallies or THON appearances, all awe-inspiring for tens of thousands of students. We’re talking students being invited into Joe’s house after singing carols, or sitting down at the Creamery with a Peachy Paterno ice cream cone while the treat’s namesake did the same.”
It’s a terrific piece.
There’s never been any doubt how students felt about Paterno. That admiration will be reflected Wednesday with a student-organized “Guide Joe Paterno Home” event encouraging all Penn Staters to line the route of the funeral procession Wednesday afternoon as it leaves the Pasquerilla Spiritual Center for the private burial service. Onward State has details here, and there’s a Facebook group set up as well.
Ryan Jones, senior editor
Subscribe
