A Blue salute
ANN ARBOR, Mich. — Bo Schembechler is gone and it's clear he will not be forgotten.
About 15,000 people showed up at Michigan Stadium on a chilly afternoon to pay respects to and Schembechler and many left with anecdotes about the late, great coach they had not heard.
"We have 77 years of this man's life to remember," said Jim Brandstatter, a former Wolverine and the master of ceremonies. "And, we've got a lifetime to remember how lucky we all are to know and love this man."
The Big House hosted "A Celebration of Bo's Life" Tuesday afternoon, not far from Schembechler Hall, where a makeshift shrine to the football building's namesake has grown over the last week.
Michigan football greats from Desmond Howard to Dan Dierdorf passed through the tunnel and onto the field and many former players jumped to slap the "GO BLUE" banner as they did when they played.
Many that never met Schembechler showed up, too, in a fitting venue for the tribute.
"On a cold November day in this great, old stadium, there's no game today," Michigan coach Lloyd Carr said. "But all of you are here because of what he was."
Several speakers recounted stories about the fiery coach, who also had a sense of humor, from a stage that was set up along the sideline that Schembechler roamed from 1969-89.
The crowd that filled many of the rows between the end zones on one side of the storied stadium often laughed at the anecdotes shared by university officials, former players, assistants and coaching colleagues.
But there were also reminders that this was a memorial as much as a celebration about a man who died Friday at 77, ending a long battle with heart disease and diabetes, the day before his beloved Michigan was beaten by rival Ohio State 42-39.
Former running back Jamie Morris paused to regain his composure from the podium and Schembechler's son, Shemy, broke down a few times while making his comments toward the end of the 2Z\x-hour event. When the memorial closed with highlights from Schembechler's career on the video boards, his wife, Cathy, covered her face with her hands and wept.
It was like a football Saturday in Ann Arbor, except it was a different day of the week and those sitting in the Big House were mourning Schembechler instead of cheering for him.
The band pounded out the famous fight song "The Victors" and the national anthem preceded the afternoon event.
"He told me many times, 'Football should be played in the afternoons,"' recalled Jim Brandstatter, a former player and the master of ceremonies. "He would not stand for a 3:30 start or an 8 o'clock start. Therefore, ladies and gentlemen, toe meets leather at 1:14 exactly."
