Editor's Note:  This is a special piece in our series of stories shared by Gorillas to Gorillas. The Pittsburg community lost one of its pillars last week. Gorilla Nation lost one of its most ardent supporters. I lost a dear friend.
 
Last Tuesday afternoon, I received a Facebook message from Madrid, Spain:  "Xxx, I heard Homer is in pretty bad shape now and in the hospital."
 
I won't share Oscar Gonzalez' salutation. He and I like to affectionately greet one another in a PG rated way in his native Spanish. It comes from our deep and sustained friendship over a quarter century of time. That, and the fact we both are middle aged men who still enjoy showing off our teenage vocabularies.
 
As I stood along the banks of the Roaring River in extreme southwest Missouri, trout fishing with my family as an escape from the Ground Hog's Day movie life we've led the past three months, it struck me this might be it. Sometimes Death sneak attacks us. Other times, it trickles away like the sand falling out of an hourglass.
 
As I had spent the better part of three days tediously trying to entice rainbow trout I could visibly see a scant 15 feet away from me to bite on various colored flies, I felt like a character in the movie, A River Runs Through It. More than once, I could hear Norman Maclean's words in my head:
 
"Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters."
 
More than once on our trip, my wife, April, joked with me about drifting into my own little daydream world on the water. She spent more time helping my son, Blake, get his many catches on a stringer and answer my daughter Bailey's many questions during the adventure than I even realized at the time.
 
Oscar's message helped reinforce her observations one final time. My buddy Homer Cole, a decorated hero of World War II, a community leader in our hometown of Pittsburg, a former "cager" – as they affectionately called basketball players back in the 1940's – for legendary Pitt State coach John Lance and one of his alma mater's most passionate fans, was battling and holding onto the final few granules of that sand in his hourglass.
 
I thought about the last time I had seen him – at John Lance Arena on Saturday, Feb. 29. The Pitt State women lost a hard fought game to Central Missouri, the already crowned MIAA regular season champion, while the Gorilla men knocked off the Mules in the regular season finale to lock up a spot in the impending MIAA Tournament.
 
Homer, seated at two rows behind where I work court-side from "media row" at the score table, was in typical form that day.
 
During pregame warm-ups, he yelled "thumb's up" incessantly to every Pitt State player in earshot of him (and those out of earshot, too) as he would do at every game. He would trade thumb gestures with them, stopping only to catch a passerby in front of him at unawares by hollering, "Hey there, you smile when you walk by here!" and then shoot them a big Cheshire Cat grin. Some spectators, who had memorized his routine over time, would point to him before he could speak and smile broadly, beating him to his trademark punchline.
 
He would ask me for a roster sheet on the opponents and then give me his scouting report on what needed to happen to beat the Jennies or the Mules that day (or any other team on any other day). Eventually, he would nip at my tail and say, "sure did miss you at the pitch game this week, we only had four card players."
 
By then, the officials had entered the arena. "Hey, Mr. Referee, I've got my pencil and paper today. You come see me at halftime and I'll show you all the things you got wrong!"
 
The veteran officials had heard his story time and time again. The rookies would have puzzled looks on their faces before another referee would explain Homer had been coming to games since Moby Dick was a minnow. After the pencil and paper charade, he'd point himself out to them on the big mural of John Lance on the south wall of the arena:  "That's me, number 11, played here five years because of the war. I'm in the Hall of Fame." The referees would then thank him for his military service – some were veterans themselves – Homer always proudly wore his B17 Flying Fortress WWII ball cap. You could predict all of this before it happened, and it was no different this last time.
 
As the memories kept flowing like that loud river I was on, I told myself in spite of the virus that we all are grappling with I needed to check in on him at the hospital once I got back to town. Unfortunately, I didn't act on that impulse fast enough and by early Friday morning, June 19, Homer Cole passed away, peacefully, I hope, at the tender age of 94.
 
Word spread quickly through the University and the athletic department staff. Friday morning, I messaged back my friend Oscar with the news I knew he was dreading:  "I just received word Homer passed away. He was a good man." I didn't know what else to say. Homer always referred to Oscar as his Spanish son and Oscar would affectionately call him his American "papa".
 
Oscar and I traded more messages back and forth. And the finality set in that we indeed had lost a dear friend.
 
My phone rang time and time again Friday. I think Homer settled in quickly in Heaven and helped orchestrate that. He was a world-class phone caller. If you didn't answer his call the first time he tried to reach you, he would call again 15 seconds later and again 30 seconds after that. More often than not, he wouldn't leave a message. He'd leave you to anticipate what he might want.
 
"Dan, did you see the Red Birds on TV last night? They beat the Cubs." We shared an affinity for the true "America's team".
 
"How did the (pick your sport) team do today against (pick your opponent)?" He was fully engaged in all PSU sports and hated missing any action when they were on the road.
 
"What is 'so and so's' number? I want to call them." It might be a new coach who hadn't shared their number with him yet, or an athlete who just had a great game (or a bad game and he wanted to encourage them).
 
"Me and the boys are playing five-point pitch tomorrow at (his son) Mike's house. Bring your quarters." No one cherished a good game of pitch more than Homer and he took quite a few of my quarters over the years.
 
And every time I'd have his call figured out in advance or I'd be cranky at a poorly timed phone call, Homer would surprise me. I'd answer the phone and he'd simply say, "Hey there, just called to tell you, I love you."
 
I'm far from the only person he would take the time to say that to. Homer Cole loved unconditionally. He loved his country. He loved his family and friends. He loved the city of Pittsburg. He loved PSU; and he loved the Gorillas. I think he even loved those referees he badgered with a passion – he was, after all, an old referee himself from many moons ago, back in his younger days.
 
Homer also was a devoted husband and I think after so many years – almost 10 full years ­– away from his sweet wife, Evelyn, he was ready to "go home" last Friday.
 
The world will return to some degree of normal soon in spite of this ongoing pandemic, but home games won't quite be the same next year without Homer front and center at the arena. My phone will ring considerably less. And, I think I'm long overdue teaching my son, Blake, how to play five-point pitch. I think Homer would like that.
 
Rest in peace, my friend. God bless your service to our country. I think I can speak for so many more than just me and say with certainty, "Gorilla Nation loves you."
 
Dan Wilkes
 
Dan Wilkes is the Associate AD for Communications at Pitt State. He's a native of Neodesha, Kan., and he resides in Pittsburg with his wife, April, and children, Blake and Bailey.
 
Please share your own personal stories/thoughts via email to dwilkes@pittstate.edu. We want to share them! (PSU Athletics reserves the right to edit content for space and appropriateness. We cannot promise to publish every submission, but we will do our best.) Thanks Gorilla Nation!

Through the Eyes of a Gorilla Archives
Vol. I - Dan Wilkes, Associate AD/Communications (Apr. 3)
Vol. II - Levi Wyrick, Football/Track & Field Athlete (Apr. 7)
Vol. III - Amanda Davied, Women's Basketball Coach (Apr. 10)
Vol. IV - Chris Hanna, PSU Alum/Football Athlete (Apr. 13)
Vol. V - Jeff Moreland, PSU Alum/Football Athlete (Apr. 15)
Vol. VI - Emily Hanenberg, Volleyball Athlete (Apr. 17)
Vol. VII - Ashley Balazs, Softball Coach (Apr. 20)
Vol. VIII - Peter Euler, PSU Alum/CC T&F Athlete (Apr. 22)
Vol. IX - Caitlin Demarest, PSU Alum/WBB Athlete (Apr. 24)
Vol. X - Tyson Cushman, Baseball Athlete (Apr. 27)
Vol. XI - Oscar Gonzalez, PSU Alum/Men's Basketball Athlete (Apr. 29)
Vol. XII - Russ Jewett, Cross Country/Track & Field Coach (May 1)
Vol. XIII - Ronald Moore, PSU Alum/Football Athlete (May 4)
Vol. XIV - Emily Regier, Volleyball Athlete (May 6)
Vol. XV - Wendi (Rickson) Horak, PSU Alum/Softball Athlete (May 8)
Vol. XVI - Josh Lattimer, PSU Alum/Football Coach (May 11)
Vol. XVII - Brad Buckley, PSU Alum/Baseball Coach (May 13)
Vol. XVIII - Piper Misse, Cross Country/Track & Field Athlete (May 15)
Vol. XVIV - Alexa (Bordewick) Dreiling, PSU Alum/WBB Athlete (May 18)
Vol. XX - Jen Gomez, Volleyball Coach (May 20)
Vol. XXI - Harlan Hess, PSU Alum/Football Athlete (May 22)
Vol. XXII - Kaity Kukowski, Softball Athlete (May 25)
Vol. XXIII - Eddie Lomshek, PSU Alum/Play-By-Play Broadcaster (May 27)
Vol. XXIV - Jenni (Miller) Croy, PSU Alum/Women's Basketball Athlete (May 29)
Vol. XXV - Jesse Wall, PSU Alum/Football Athlete (June 1)
Vol. XXVI - Marcus Canipe, PSU Alum/CC T&F Athlete (June 3)
Vol. XXVII - Kim Anderson, PSU Men's Basketball Coach (June 5)
Vol. XXVIII - Tucker Horak, Football Athlete (June 8)
Vol. XXVIV - Brandon Claypool, PSU Alum/Football Athlete (June 10)
Vol. XXX - Jacob Lenard, PSU Alum/Television Sports Director (June 12)
Vol. XXXI - Bo Farrow, PSU Alum/FB T&F Athlete (June 15)
Vol. XXXII - Bob Fornelli, Baseball Coach (June 18)