On Metronews Talkline Tuesday, I took calls from listeners for two hours about the life and untimely death of former Mountaineer coach Bill Stewart. I expected a few personal reflections, but also a lot of, “I never met him, but he seemed like a good guy.”
But what happened over the course of the show was remarkable; story after story from folks who had deeply personal, heartfelt stories about Stew, even if they only met him briefly.
One told of how Stewart came every year to a meeting of the Lion’s Club in the small Braxton County community of Heaters. Even after he became head coach in 2008, Stewart made the trip.
Another said he, his wife and three-year-old son happened upon Stew in the Puskar Center parking lot one day. They asked for a picture. Stew obliged, but then insisted on giving the family a personal tour of the facilities building, and topped it off with cookies for the boy.
Stewart’s son, Blaine, plays for the Morgantown High football team. Coach John Bowers remembered how Stew was always one of the last to leave the fundraising elimination dinners as he helped clean up and put away tables.
Another caller told how he and his son met and spent time with Stew one day and then later were stunned when, on the child’s birthday, he got an email from the coach.
Yet another told how he snuck his young son, who had two broken arms, into practice one day. Stew, seeing the boy in the stands, waved him down on the field and had the players sign souvenirs for him, then took him and his father in the Puskar Center for a tour.
On it went for two hours, caller after caller, all with remarkably similar stories of how Bill Stewart spent time—real, meaningful time—with them and their families. These were selfless gifts by Stewart to thousands of people he met over the course of his life.
Stewart possessed the values that we, as West Virginians, claim define our uniqueness. We want to see ourselves as hardworking, honest, quick to aid a stranger as well as a neighbor. We want to be passionate about state and proud of where we came from. We want a handshake to close a deal and our word to be our bond. We believe we are tough, but kindhearted.
The great irony is that when Stewart was the Mountaineer head coach he was frequently derided by critics for his country demeanor. Some seemed afraid that when Stewart came off as a hayseed, it reflected negatively on West Virginia and reinforce negative stereotypes.
Yet who was more of a West Virginian than Bill Stewart? He wasn’t just one of us; he set a public example of who we would like to believe we are.
The stories we have heard since Stew’s untimely death have been inspiring, and there are more to come today during visitation and tomorrow’s funeral. These simple acts of kindness by an unassuming man trying to do his best are illustrative of a purposeful life.
The daily tumult of life conspires to distract us from the importance of treating other with love and respect. But fortunately there are beacons of light among us, like Bill Stewart, who shine brightly and show the way.