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Thousands Flock to Arrowhead to Pay Tribute to Thomas
Feb. 9, 2000
There was no football game Wednesday at Arrowhead Stadium, but the traffic still snarled up and down Interstate 70.
There was no football game here, but fans snaked about the parking lot at One Arrowhead Drive, wearing jerseys and telling stories. The car radios still blared, and the smoke from the sizzling bratwurst still danced upward toward the heavens.
"The Sack Man is up there smiling," said Betty Brown, the president of Derrick Thomas' Third and Long Foundation. "And he's probably saying, `Mrs. Brown, I got them all here, and there's not even a game.' "
But the thousands that gathered in Arrowhead Stadium's parking lot Wednesday didn't come to cheer. They came to pray.
They came to remember.
Less than 48 hours after Thomas' death, fans flocked to pay tribute to one of the greatest linebackers in the history of the National Football League -- and one of the greatest sports heroes in the history of Kansas City.
Some of them brought pictures and poems and shirts and signs. Others scattered teddy bears, ticket stubs, children's books and flowers across a patch of grass that quickly became a neatly cluttered shrine.
A 6 p.m., a candlelight prayer vigil was held. Brown, former Chiefs receiver Otis Taylor and City Councilman Alvin Brooks spoke. A letter from former baseball umpire Steve Palermo was read. And vocalist Hal Wakes brought on tears during his deep, beautiful performance of "Amazing Grace."
Perhaps the most touching words, though, came from the Rev. Ben Worth of Unity Temple on the Plaza.
"As (Thomas) lives in our hearts and minds, he will also live on through us if we commit to living as he did," Worth told the congregation. "Remember the qualities that you admired in him and make them your own."
Jim Kerske met Derrick Thomas once, back in 1986. He is still overwhelmed by how much Thomas touched him. That is why he was here Wednesday.
Kerske had asked Muhammad Ali to autograph a picture that day, and afterward, Ali's manager invited him to join the boxer at a reception at a hotel. Kerske obliged.
"A bunch of people were up there talking, and I was standing near Ali," Kerske said. "I looked up and saw Derrick Thomas walk in. He came straight over to Ali."
Kerske will never forget the conversation that took place.
Thomas: "Hello, Mr. Ali, I'm Derrick Thomas."
Ali, who is Muslim: "Mr. Thomas, are you a child of God?"
Thomas paused, then smiled that trademark smile: "Yes, Mr. Ali, I am."
"You could just see in his face how proud he was to say that," said Kerske, 46. "I'll never forget that as long as I live."
A gray Nissan Frontier approached the makeshift memorial that was constructed for Thomas in front of Arrowhead Stadium. The passenger held out a camera, took a picture and then rolled up the window -- on which a color portrait of Thomas was taped.
Two words were written below the picture of Thomas, who was not wearing a seat belt when he was injured.
"BUCKLE UP!!!"
The glass bowl that housed donations to Thomas' Third and Long Foundation was about to overflow with $10 and $20 bills when a white minivan pulled up about 4 p.m.
The door opened and out climbed 13-year-old Porsha Finney, holding hands with her two younger sisters and younger brothers. Porsha approached the bowl and unclinched her fists.
Plink. Plink. Plink.
"Fifty cents," Porsha said. "I bought a bouquet of roses, and this is all I had left. Still, I wanted to do something."
Mourners passed by him one by one in a tear-filled haze, and Bill Pullen never moved. An hour went by, then two, then three. Still, he stood silent, staring at nothing in particular on the concrete below him.
Pullen, 33, has never been to a Chiefs game. He said he's not even that big of a Chiefs fan. But he shared a bond with Derrick Thomas, and now his thoughts consumed him.
"My dad died when I was 5," Pullen said. "And I know the same thing happened to him.
Derrick was what kept me going. I've had a lot of bad days. But (Thomas) had them, too. I watched how he handled himself, how he kept going.
"Seeing him do that..." Pullen paused and looked back down. "That helped me keep going, too."
Weird Wolf wasn't crying. And he wasn't frowning. In fact, as he snaked through a sea of people at Arrowhead Stadium's parking lot, he looked nearly ready to uncork a happy howl.
Dressed in his customary Weird Wolf costume of shoulder pads, face paint and hair extensions, 39-year-old Lynn Schmidt arrived at Arrowhead Stadium ready to celebrate the life of the player who brought him so much joy.
Everybody mourns differently, Schmidt said.
"This is how (Thomas) knew me. I'd go to his radio shows and he'd look at me like I was crazy. This whole thing is great -- thousands of fans coming together to tell D.T. stories.
We're going to deal with this together."
Schmidt said there is no way to explain the tragedy that took Thomas' life. But he's trying his best to reason.
"They've got to have football up in heaven," Schmidt said. "I think God just needed a good quarterback sacker."
All was silent near Thomas' shrine about 3 p.m. Then Brian Gump and two of his buddies pulled up on their Harley-Davidson motorcycles, the crackling of their engines echoing toward the sky.
Gump and crew didn't wear Chiefs attire, instead opting for bandannas, black leather pants and leather gloves. Still, as out-of-place as they looked, they were there for the same reason as everyone else.
"We're paying our respects," Gump said. "We wanted to bring closure to all of this. We wanted to bring peace. No one can help but be a Derrick Thomas fan. He's the kind of guy people should model themselves after."
Derrick Thomas didn't just love football -- he loved movies, too.
So says 23-year-old Sam Griffin, a former ticket-taker at AMC 30 who stopped by Arrowhead on Wednesday.
"He came there all the time," Griffin said. "He walk by and ask me which movie wouldn't make him fall asleep. He liked action movies, but he was always with a woman, so he ended up watching a lot of dramas."
Griffin, who uses a wheelchair, said he always left work in a better mood on nights when Thomas had come to the theater.
"I'd reach for his ticket, and he'd just look and me and smile that famous Derrick Thomas smile," Griffin said. "I couldn't help but smile right back at him."
People were staring at Willie Dykes. Rather, they were staring at his car.
That's because Dykes pulled into the Arrowhead parking lot in a 1996 cherry-red Cobra convertible. Chiefs emblems were painted on the door. And "58" stickers decorated the windshield.
Dykes has been a Thomas fan since he met him at an autograph signing a few years ago. His friend, 63-year-old Barbara Towns, sat with Thomas' mother, Edith, at the Friendship Baptist Church whenever Mrs. Thomas visited from Miami.
"Just the nicest lady," Towns said. "The nicest lady in the world."
Dykes said Thomas' death will be felt far beyond the football field.
"It's awful," Dykes said. "We just got finished celebrating Black History Month and the life of Martin Luther King, and now we lose a person that was such a symbol of goodness and of how all nationalities can live together harmoniously.
"I think (Thomas) saw being a player as a way to get himself in the spotlight to do all the humanitarian things he's done."
Among the hundreds of signs, posters and letters that were strewn across the grassy field that became Thomas' memorial was a message from second-grader Eric Thomas of Luff Elementary.
"God wanted Derrick Thomas up in heaven to help tackle the devil."
Renee Jobe spent a good two hours at Arrowhead on Wednesday. With her was her son Austin, who is 4. Jobe said Austin was too young to know much about Derrick Thomas. That, if anything, is what had her on the brink of tears.
"(Austin) knew Derrick Thomas was a Chief, and he knew he was number 58," Jobe said. "But that's about it. I wish he would've gotten to watch him play more. Derrick could been such a good role model for him."
Also with Jobe were Karen Steiner and Trina Feltinberger, each wearing Thomas paraphernalia. Steiner said she met Thomas at an autograph signing at Toys R Us.
"I tripped over his feet," Steiner said, chuckling. "He showed up late that day, but he made up for it. The store had closed, and he was still there signing."
The three talked for 15 minutes about Thomas, sharing stories and memorable moments. Funny thing was, none of them mentioned football. There was something more, they said, something extra about Thomas that brought so many to Arrowhead Stadium.
"The thing about Derrick Thomas," Feltinberger said, "was that he was touchable. He didn't act like he was above everyone.
"He was one of us."
from kc star
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