My father died when I was 7 years old. I withdrew in school both academically and socially. I felt as if I was not like the other children because I did not have a father. It created a terrible complex in my life and affected how I handled challenges and conflicts. Then Coach Passmore came into my life when I was a young teenager. I understand now that God’s thoughts are not our thoughts, neither are our thoughts, God’s. God has a course for all of us that He laid down even before we were born. God sent George Passmore to give me a new sense of self worth - to accept where I am in a particular place in time and to take what He throws at us the best way we can. George taught me to take on life’s tough challenges and to never give up. It didn’t matter if we failed, or lost a game, Coach made sure we still got pizza afterward. He assured us that if we did the very best we could, with what we had - we were a success in his eyes. That’s not something easy to teach. George made sure the well-being of his players and their attitudes in the face of conflict came before the game. However, he went above and beyond the call of duty by taking me under his wing. He opened his home and his life to me and provided experiences I will cherish forever. I have yet to hunt and fish anywhere better than on the farm. The bonding created with his boys has lasted all my life. Those experiences will never be duplicated. I think of them all as my brothers. I had never felt so loved by a father figure since the days my own father wrapped me in a blanket and sat me down to breakfast when I was a child. Between George and his boys, and I will always regard them as my brothers, I was lifted from my hopelessness and set firmly on solid ground. I had an opportunity to thank George for the time he gave up for all those football practices and games in a letter. Excerpts of that letter are in this memorial. I thanked him for the hot dogs and cokes I could not afford before the games - and the pizzas after the games. I thanked him for the car he gave me that he said was payment for working in the hay fields - though I would have paid HIM for those wonderful times of labor and love. I thanked him for the compassion he showed me by treating me like I was his son. I thanked him for giving me self confidence and for teaching me what it means to truly be a man by making the best of what God throws at us in order to make a worthwhile contribution to society, no matter where we are in life. R.I.P. Coach!