Class and Dignity

Dean Harris...Part 3
The funeral plans for Dean called for a wake visitation at Officer Funeral Home (East St. Louis) one evening and burial the next day in that river city. I immediately held concerns for hundreds of young teens from Edwardsville high school who may attend the wake and the possibility of becoming lost in some questionable areas of my 'hometown.' By the year 1974, East St. Louis was beginning to experience some serious crime-ridden pockets. (Note: Within the last four years, I drove through East St. Louis and felt unsafe in my old neighborhood of Washington Park; it both angers and saddens me). We could not allow scores of young people to risk problems simply wishing to pay respect to their friend, Dean Harris.

I telephoned 'Tree' and Hazel to express my concerns about the wake being in East St. Louis and ask them if they would sign-off on having Dean's visitation in the foyer of the Edwardsville high school gym. Dean's parents concurred with my safety assessments and agreed; now I just needed to convince a school board, which was always prepared to reject any of my proposals. Fortunately, my Principal, Neal Schmelzel prevailed with his plea to the higher powers and the Dean Harris visitation was scheduled for the Edwardsville high school site. Of course, as expected, there was some critical rumblings from the 'old guard' naysayers and folks with blinding personal vendettas.

I have attended many wake-visitations during my life's journey and I can state without reservations that I have never witnessed such somber dignity. Dean's white casket was positioned directly in front of the gymnasium foyer's athletic trophy case. The 'full-body-view' casket held the body of a beautiful and talented young man. Positioned to each side of the casket was an honor guard; all former Edwardsville 'Tigers' basketball teammates each of whom recalled happy moments of playful joking with their friend and competing feverishly together to 'win-the-game.'  Dressed in white tuxedos, each player stood frozen in motion with expressionless somber stares as if they simply could not do enough to express a 'Brotherly love.' I have never experienced a more proud moment for 'my players.'

Over one thousand five hundred visitors signed the memorial-registration book and filed past Dean Harris to whisper their personal goodbyes. The last two people coming through the receiving line...long time basketball adversary, Coach Virgil Fletcher and wife Violet. Coach Fletcher shook my hand and said, "Mel, I am so sorry we are all here tonight." I could not have agreed more; this venue was for spirited-fun competition between talented youngsters. We are not supposed to be here for this heartbreaking gathering.

The next day Dean's family, friends, high school and college teammates along with coaches assembled in an East St. Louis Church where sincere (eulogy) words were spoken and naturally falling short of easing our terrible pain. A young man was laid to eternal rest that day and a 'DREAM' ended. We all returned to our respective life challenges never forgetting a talented basketball player with a warm and friendly manner.

I will honestly admit that a part of my heart never healed from that experience. I would not deny other contributing factors.