Editorials

Each Monday after practice, Gene Stallings would lumber up the stairs to his corner office, where he'd do his weekly radio show and regale a few reporters with tales of nothing specific. It was a compelling, insightful time to be a beat reporter covering the Alabama football team.

On the table would be a pile of chicken wings, extra hot, extra good. Drinks — not those kind — would be off to the side.

In the back of the office, on a leather couch, sat John Mark Stallings.

The Monday night affairs weren't parties; they were professional, off-the-record get-togethers that gave reporters face time with the Crimson Tide's coach. Occasionally we talked about heady, behind-the-scenes stuff: which players were under-performing, which opposing coaches he respected, which part of an opponent's team truly gave him pause.

But most of the time our talks weren't informational or analytical. Instead, we chatted as if we'd simply bellied up to the bar, our topics ranging from that night's NFL game, to what it was like coaching under Tom Landry, to Stallings' hobbies of golf and ranching. Sometimes he'd ask how a reporter's children were doing. A few he remembered by name.

Stallings was old-school and didn't expect anything in return for his hospitality. Everyone's ethics were intact.

John Mark was almost always there, sitting on that couch on the other side of the room. He'd often make eye contact with his dad, who'd occasionally bring John Mark into our conversations.

If anything, memories of Stallings' son, who died Saturday from complications of Down syndrome, and their relationship are among some of my fondest recollections of the decade I spent covering the Crimson Tide. Stallings could be a rough, gruff character. Trust me, you wanted no part of his bad side, though most of us who covered his team got an earful from the man at one time or another.

But what made Stallings so endearing to so many people — whether Alabama fans or not — was the humanity he showed when John Mark was in the room.

From the moment he was hired in 1990, Stallings and his wife, Ruth Ann, made it clear from their actions that John Mark would not be a hidden-away part of the Crimson Tide's first family. The attitude the Stallings family set was inspirational. They were proud of John Mark, and they wanted him to enjoy his life as the son of a famous football coach.

Stallings's successful seven years brought a national championship to Tuscaloosa, but there's no doubt in my mind that one of his enduring legacies was the spirit he provided to other families with special-needs children. Stallings allowed the world to see John Mark as he was, and to enjoy his engaging personality.

It was a gift to all who met him.