I got a text message about 10 PM last night from Mike Clark, saying that former Northwest High basketball coach Willard Ross had been shot and killed earlier in the day. I went to the Leaf-Chronicle's webpage, read the horrific news, and tried all night to process it. I called a few people whom I thought would be interested, but, due to the late hour, didn't talk long to anyone.

Coach Ross was my favorite teacher in high school, and I am just sick about this. I was unable to get any sleep last night, and have not really done anything at work today. I am just sick. I want to puke.

For those who have seen the movie "Forrest Gump", think back to the scene where Forrest gets on the bus for the first time, and all the kids say things like, "seat's taken", "can't sit here", and the like. Then Jenny says that he can ride with her if he'd like. Coach Ross let me ride with him, no questions asked.

I remember that my bus would get to school about 6:50 each morning, and since the first class didn't start until 7:30, I would go to Coach Ross' office and hang out. We would read the paper and talk about the news and our beloved Celtics. We would look over the box scores of the previous days' baseball games, and talk about who was hot and who was not. Good times, indeed. His office was a safe place for me, a place I could go and never be ridiculed or made fun of. He took me for who I was, and for that I will always be grateful.

I understand he had just retired last year, and it sickens me that he was cheated out of the opportunity to spend his golden years with his grand kids. It sickens me that he and his wife were cheated out of the opportunity to spend those years with each other. It's just not fair.

In philosophy, the word "evil" is usually defined as "innocent suffering". Those who deny the existence of God often point to the presence of evil in the world as proof of the lack of a God. This is something that I have difficulty explaining away. The standard "everything happens for a reason" is woefully inadequate.

I never knew Coach Ross to say a cross word about anyone. I remember that he always called everyone by their last name, except for seniors, who he addressed by their first names. I guess he figured if you'd made it that far, you deserved a little respect. i remember that he gave me some tips on becoming a better umpire, and that I was grateful. I don't know that he ever umpired himself, but he had coached the girls' softball team, and probably knew what he liked and didn't like in an umpire. I remember that he asked me once to umpire the softball team's inter squad game. I remember that he paid me, and that he gave me a ride home afterward. I have never known any other coach to go out his way to help an umpire like that.

I remember that during the winter, when the P.E. class would stay inside, each person was assigned to a group, and each group would rotate among basketball, ping pong, badminton, other activities. I remember that since I excelled at ping pong, and was horrible at basketball, he would look the other way when I would stay at the ping pong station instead of moving to basketball. I remember appreciating that a great deal.

The man was quality, and he will be sorely missed.

Peace...