Paramore column: Friday football in Ariton heartfelt

There have been a lot of attempts to figure out just what the author Thomas C. Wolfe meant in “Look Homeward, Angel” when he wrote one of the most famous lines in literary history.

“You can never go home again,” he scribbled.

I don’t know about going back permanently, but Friday night I went home again. Fittingly, it was both peaceful and emotional at the same time.

As many of you know, I grew up in the small town of Ariton, a few miles north of Dothan. I don’t get to return as much as I would like, and when I read the results of Purple Cat athletic events in this publication, I don’t recognize many of the last names of the players and the families they represent. But it’s been 30 years since I last put on a pair of shoulder pads, so it’s to be expected I suppose.

However, as my brother and I entered Robert F. Zumstein Stadium — the retired physician delivered many of us while practicing for more than 40 years — there were friendly faces everywhere we looked. Some, we knew immediately.

Others, we had to ask each other about. What a thrill it was to shake hands with former teachers, coaches and old friends. There’s something about how good a homecoming football game makes you feel.

We made it down to the concession area for the obligatory boiled peanuts, stadium hot dog and a soft drink, stopping every few feet to say hello to someone or just take in a whiff of the smells that are high school football. In a small facility like we hail from, you can get a mere few feet away from the playing field. The perspiration, the pads popping, the grunts of the players, it was all alive and well.

But the emotional portion of the trip wasn’t about being alive. It was about death and remembrance. You may recall me writing about the sudden passing of former Purple Cat star Leo Jolly this past March. On Friday night in front of a packed house, the school did something it had never done before. It held a jersey retirement ceremony.

In a selfish way, I had dreaded the trip all day because I knew this moment was coming. Grown men aren’t supposed to cry in public. One of the biggest honors I’ve experienced is when a member of the Jolly family asked me to accompany them on the field at halftime.

So much for what you’re not supposed to do in public. As several of those in Leo’s graduating class joined around the covered glass frame holding his No. 21 purple jersey, an eloquent eulogy was delivered and the crowd — on both the home side and the visiting Geneva County side — rose to its feet as one.

Down through the years, I’ve been privileged to cover events where as many as 100,000 rabid fans roared like a jet engine taking off.

Suffice it to say the ovation Friday night may not have matched those experiences in volume, but I’ve never heard a more heartfelt applause nor felt any more goose bumps than I did at that almost surreal time.

And to think, it happened at one of my favorite places ever, home. I can’t believe I’d forgotten how good going back can feel.

Phil Paramore’s column appears Tuesday and Friday in The Dothan Eagle. He can be heard weekday mornings from 6-9 on AM 560 WOOF or at http://www.woofradio.com.