'Goodfellows' bring back memories;
join in next week at St. Ambrose

Rick Gosselin is a storyteller. And if you didn’t grow up the Grosse Pointes in the 1950’s and ‘60’s or you weren’t a fanatic high school football fan, the story he will tell Wednesday (Oct. 21) at 7:30 p.m. in The Ark at St. Ambrose in the Park will amaze you.

It is the story of the St. Ambrose Cavaliers, a tiny Class C Catholic high school on the edge of the Grosse Pointes that didn’t have a football field or even a practice field; the coach’s office was a converted coal bin. Yet it won the Detroit Goodfellows championship in 1959 by beating public school giant Cooley High from across town. But “Goodfellows: The Champions of St. Ambrose” is more than that.

In the decade from 1957 to 1967 St. Ambrose High “produced 12 all-state football players, future National Football League players, future Big Ten and NFL coaches and Super Bowl champs.”

Gosselin grew up in Grosse Pointe Park, attended St. Ambrose, graduated from Michigan State and eventually became the NFL columnist for The Dallas Morning News.

He has spent 35 years writing football stories.

He won the Dick McCann Award in 2004 for distinguished reporting on pro football and in 2007 was voted into the Hall of Fame of The Michigan State News, MSU”s student newspaper.

Gosselin’s appearance is sponsored by the Grosse Pointe Public Libraries and while free, seating is limited, so you should register at their website or call any branch.

Perhaps Detroit Lions Coach Jim Schwartz said it best in his introduction: “If you played high-school football, you will love this book. If you grew up in Detroit, you will love this book. If you grew up in the ‘50s and ‘60s, you will love this book. It will bring back wonderful memories of a different time and place in our society and culture.”

Jet thunder is the sound of freedom

A one-time Marine jet jockey from Grosse Pointe Woods is joining a campaign to re-name Comerica Park to honor the 91-year-old voice of summer that everyone knows as Ernie.

He is one of the 3,753 signatures in a campaign to re-name the stadium Harwell Field, rather than the daily reminder that Comerica Bank's headquarters bailed out of Detroit a couple years ago.

Now you might believe John Maliszewski’s chances of prevailing against the money men are slim and none, but you wouldn’t be taking into account how beloved Ernie Harwell is. Harwell is dying of inoperable cancer, but he is doing it with his usual understated style and elegance. He has no regrets.

You also wouldn’t be taking into account Maliszewski’s credentials. His father was a hero of World War II and Maliszewski served in Vietnam. He and his wife, Carrie, were once based at a Marine airfield near Beaufort, S.C. that sports a huge billboard that states simply: “The Thunder You Hear is the Sound of Freedom.”

Bobmobile is back

Bob Bashara, the President of the Rotary Club of Grosse Pointe is a big man, well over six feet tall and 250 pounds. So he needs a big vehicle, which turns out to be one of those conversion vans with a BigBob vanity license plate.

A couple weeks ago Bob reported ruefully to his membership at the Rotary’s Monday lunch meeting at the War Memorial that the Bobmobile had gone missing while he attended an event at Eastern Market in Detroit.

He confessed that the Rotary bell, rung to begin and end all meetings, was aboard, as was the Rotary brief case and assorted other Rotary valuables. He promised to replace the bell with a bigger, better bell with every past president’s name inscribed on it. In the meantime it was a verbal “ding-dong.”

One Rotarian wit remarked that member Tom Youngblood was probably the happiest person in the room when the Bobmobile went missing. A couple years back Tom accidentally backed his car over a Rotary briefcase.

But Bashara was saved a week later by a call from the Detroit police who advised him the Bobmobile was in one of their tow yards and would he please retrieve it. The bell and briefcase were recovered and only a stab wound in the briefcase marked the Bobmobile’s adventure in alien hands. All's well that ends well.
 

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