Bill Bohm genuflected before the trophy case, crossed himself and said a prayer for Walter Payton's family.After hearing about his childhood hero's death on the radio, the 24-year-old Naperville resident drove home from work and put on his No. 34 jersey. No matter that the youth-sized shirt was 15 years old and could barely cover his adult torso.
Bohm then headed west to Walter Payton's Roundhouse restaurant and microbrewery in Aurora. On Monday, fans gathered there - and at spots throughout Chicagoland - to console each other and share favorite memories of the famous running back.
Many lingered in the Roundhouse's Walter Payton Museum with its trophies, photographs and memorabilia. It was there that Bohm left a dozen white carnations and his heartfelt prayers.
"This was something I had to do," he said as his voice cracked with emotion. "I had to come here. He was someone I looked up to."
In Buffalo Grove, current Bears players and fans packed Lou Malnati's for an annual cancer fund-raiser sponsored by the players' wives and the pizzeria.
Radio personality and former Payton teammate Dan Jiggetts said the fund-raiser's timing was "rather poignant" and a reminder of the community work Payton performed even through his illness.
"I think he understood more than most people how important it was to do charitable work and to help things like this get off the ground," said Jiggetts, who recalled Payton as late as last holiday season fretting about how he would wrap the 34,000 presents his charitable organization distributes.
"It's a sad day," said current Bears tight end Ryan Wetnight. "When you think about the Chicago Bears, you think about Walter Payton. He's the epitome of what the Bears are all about... It's an honor to wear the same helmet Walter Payton wore."
Yet Payton never seemed to get all caught up in his own greatness, admirers said.
Scott Ascher, a co-owner of the Roundhouse, recalled going to Payton's office several years ago to pitch the restaurant venture. Before the meeting began, Payton asked Ascher to move "that thing" keeping the door ajar.
Ascher obliged, then realized "that thing" Payton used as a door stop was his Hall of Fame bust.
"He never dwelled in the past," Ascher said. "He lived in today and talked about the future."
At Mike Ditka's Iron Mike's Grille in Chicago Monday, workers draped black bunting outside and fans recalled the good times.
"I'm a great, great football fan, and Payton was the best, better than Jim Brown, Gale Sayers, you name it," said 35-year-old Joe Dallacqua. "No running back ever moved the way he moved. Sure, good people die all the time, but I'm real sad about this one. He was a young guy, he had everything in the world going for him."
When Anthony Amunategui thinks of Payton, his first thought is not of football exploits, glorious as they were, but of how he carried himself off the field.
"He was a true gentleman," said Amunategui, 31, of Chicago, who was relaxing over a drink at ESPN Zone in Chicago.
In Payton's memory, Nancy McCaskey, wife of Bears board chairman Mike McCaskey, encouraged people at the Buffalo Grove fund-raiser to become organ donors. She said the team charity plans to donate matching money for this year's fund-raiser to help fund organ donation and to research gastrointestinal cancers, including the type that afflicted Payton.
Daily Herald staff writers Shamus Toomey and Pat Karlak and correspondent Ruth Silverman contributed to this report.
