Coach: Cliff Cushman's letter revisited

In a recent edition, our sports writer Dave Oberhelman detailed the heartbreaking passing of Glenbrook North class of 2020 student Tim St. John.

I, along with many of you, I am sure, found it to be a painful and agonizing story to read. To see a young man of such pure quality of character and loved by so many, having his life ended so suddenly, stings to the very core.

I never knew Tim St. John. I may have watched him compete at some point, but if so, was unaware of who he was. I know now that Tim was a talented, three-sport athlete for the Spartans, but it seems much more importantly, what stood out most about him was his quiet leadership, his caring for others, and his respect for competition.

Reading about Tim, and the extraordinary young man that he was, brought back memories of another athlete with similar characteristics that I had read about named Cliff Cushman. Cushman's legend grew many, many years ago, when he wrote his "letter to youth" which became famous for generations of young kids.

A quick background on Cliff Cushman: He was a Great Falls, North Dakota, resident and sports star from way back in 1956. A blonde haired, good looking, All-American kid with a smile that could light up a room. He seemingly befriended everyone in school, as he, like Tim St. John, excelled in multiple sports. Track and Field, though, was Cushman's best. A two time state champion and record holder in North Dakota, he led his team to the state championship his senior year.

Cushman was talented enough to get a scholarship to Kansas University, at the time, one of the top track programs in the country, and soon after was invited to tryout for the 1960 Olympic Games in Rome. He was that good.

Once he made the team, Cushman did not let down. He ran brilliantly winning an Olympic silver medal in the 400-meter hurdles, missing the gold by just 3 tenths of a second.

Ever the self-motivator, Cushman, even in celebration, wanted more. He wanted one final crack at a chance to bring home the gold. So, he went back to work. He trained long and hard for four years, preparing for another go at making the USA team.

But that is when crushing disappointment would come. In the qualifying heat to make the team, Cushman hit the fifth hurdle and tripped and fell flat on his face, on to the hard unforgiving track surface. He lay there as others raced by, painfully realizing that his dream and all of his work the past 4 years had all gone for naught.

On the plane ride back home, Cushman fought back the disappointment and instead reflected, while penning a letter which soon was to become legend. He wrote it to all the young kids who may have followed his plight.

(Note, that some of the terminology is understandably outdated, but the message and the spirit behind it? Still lives strongly today)

To the youth of Grand Forks, from Maj. Cliff Cushman:

Don't feel sorry for me. I feel sorry for some of you! You may have seen the U.S. Olympic Trials on television September 13. If so, you watched me hit the fifth hurdle, fall and lie on the track in an inglorious heap of skinned elbows, bruised hips, torn knees, and injured pride, unsuccessful in my attempt to make the Olympic team for the second time. In a split second all the many years of training, pain, sweat, blisters, and agony of running were simply and irrevocably wiped out. But I tried. I would much rather fail knowing I had put forth an honest effort than never have tried at all.

This is not to say that everyone is capable of making the Olympic Team. However, each of you is capable of trying to make your own personal "Olympic Team," whether it be the high school football team, the glee club, the honor roll, or whatever your goal may be. Unless your reach exceeds your grasp, how can you be sure what you can attain? And don't you think there are things better than cigarettes, hot-rod cars, school dropouts, excessive makeup, and ducktail grease-cuts?

Over fifteen years ago I saw a star - first place in the Olympic Games. I literally started to run after it. In 1960 I came within three yards of grabbing it; this year I stumbled, fell and watched it recede four more years away. Certainly, I was very disappointed in falling flat on my face. However, there is nothing I can do about it now but get up, pick the cinders from my wounds, and take one more step, followed by one more and one more, until the steps turn into miles and the miles into success.

I know I may never make it. The odds are against me but I have something in my favor - desire and faith. Romans 5:3-5 has always had an inspirational meaning to me in this regard: "We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us." At least I am going to try.

How about you? Would a little extra effort on your part bring up your grade average? Would you have a better chance to make the football team if you stayed an extra fifteen minutes after practice and worked on your blocking?

Let me tell you something about yourselves. You are taller and heavier than any past generation in this country. You are spending more money, enjoying more freedom, and driving more cars than ever before, yet many of you are very unhappy. Some of you have never known the satisfaction of doing your best in sports, the joy of excelling in class, the wonderful feeling of completing a job, any job, and looking back on it knowing that you have done your best.

I dare you to have your hair cut and not wilt under the comments of your so-called friends. I dare you to clean up your language. I dare you to honor your mother and father. I dare you to go to church without having to be compelled to go by your parents. I dare you to unselfishly help someone less fortunate than yourself and enjoy the wonderful feeling that goes with it. I dare you to become physically fit. I dare you to read a book that is not required in school. I dare you to look up at the stars, not down at the mud, and set your sights on one of them that, up to now, you thought was unattainable. There is plenty of room at the top, but no room for anyone to sit down.

Who knows? You may be surprised at what you can achieve with sincere effort. So get up, pick the cinders out of your wounds, and take one more step.

I dare you!

Sincerely, Clifton E. Cushman

Sept. 17, 1964

Cushman's letter became legend and went on to inspire generations of young kids and young athletes who followed.

He ended out marrying his college sweetheart, Carolyn, had a child, Colin, and then became an Air Force pilot. In 1966 flying a F-105 fighter jet mission over North Vietnam, at the age of 26, his plane was shot down over Hanoi and never found.

Nine years later, in 1975, he was officially declared missing in action and presumed dead. The Great Falls, North Dakota high school football field and stadium is now named after him.

After revisiting Cushman's letter after all these years, and then finding out about our very own Tim St. John last week, I couldn't help but think that, even separated by more than five decades, how the two of them, if they would have met, would have been great friends and soul mates.

Who knows? Maybe they are right now.

• Jon Cohn of Glenview is a coach, retired PE teacher, sports official and prep sports fan. To contact him with comments or story ideas, email jcsportsandtees@aol.com.