The three day weekend started by almost giving my dad a heart attack. For once, my mom and I kept my visit a secret. She picked me up from the airport, made plans to meet him for lunch, and the second my dad got in the car, I jumped up from the back seat and said nice and loud, "Hi, Dad!" My dad jumped backward out of the car, tripped on the curb, and left only the elegant words behind, "OH! SHIT!"
Yeah, I have that effect on people. Once everyone dried themselves from the pee inducing laughter, we had a great weekend. We ate some great food, I made late night sand angels in the sand traps of their local golf course, and I had a nice 6 mile run at what felt like sea level.
My mom and dad recently moved to a new side of Omaha and I don't know the area well. So my mom offered to help by plotting a path along the "Boozer Trail." She said it would spit me out somewhere near a lake. Sounds good. But who is the drunk guy?
Dad's theory was Boozer must have been some infamous drunk who got hit by a train years ago and they renamed the road after him to serve as a lesson to future drunks. I cackled at my dad's hilarious theory. "Hey kids, don't pee on the third rail. Look what happened to Boozer!"
Unwilling to leave it at that, I grabbed a smart phone and I found the story of an incredible man. Bob Boozer was not a drunk. He was born in Omaha, Nebraska in 1937. He was an African American who graduated from Kansas State University, won a gold medal in the 1960 Summer Olympics, and was drafted into the NBA where he played for the Cincinnati Royals. As if that wasn't enough of an illustrious career, when he retired from basketball, Bob became an executive for Bell systems (the phone company), and dedicated much of his wealth and volunteered endless hours at Boys Town, a local home for troubled youth.
Bob Boozer's honorable image is the one I carried with me on my 6 mile run to Lake Zorinsky. The trail follows the Boozer Highway, which is situated next to the rail road tracks. It winds next to some high school stadiums, a few neighborhoods, and many quiet hidden gems along the way.
While many of the runners on the path were quite rude, refusing to return a smile or "hello," I felt honored running in the shadow of a great local man. I would have never known of Bob Boozer had running not created that connection.
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