Page 9 - kappbook2020

276 I JOE KAPP, THE TOUGHEST CHICANO"
11

something awful had happened. For no apparent reason, the room
was instantly silent.

"Joe," she said, almost whispering, "there's a call for you. It's Peggy
Lewis."
I untangled myself from the kids, whose expressions were now a
mixture of disappointment at the time-out and hopefulness that I'd
quickly return, and started toward the phone. Within two steps, I al-
ready knew what this call meant. My legs felt weak. A minute ago, I
was tossing my children in the air like Frisbees; now, as I reached for
the phone, I felt like I was running underwater.
Peggy had been Al Lewis's wife for over fifty years. There could
be only one reason she would have to call me at home on a Saturday
morning. And I knew what it was.
Al Lewis had heen my football and basketball coach at Hart High
School. He was the strongest man I had ever known. Like every other
athlete and student at Hart, I always referred to him as Coach Lewis.

Never "Mr. Lewis" or just "Coach." That would've placed him in the
same category as every other coach. It wouldn't have given him the re-
spect he deserved. When I spoke to him directly, even after I reached
my middle-aged self, I called him Coach Lewis-it never occurred to
me to call him Al.
"Mrs. Lewis, this is Joe," I softly spoke into the receiver. "How are
you?"
"I have bad news, Joe. He's had a turn for the worse. I thought you'd
want to know," Mrs. Lewis said. She uttered the words without any
discernable emotion. I'd seen her stoicism before, but it had never
concerned matters this critical.
I don't remember what I said next, but I know it was more to en-
courage myself than it was to cheer up Mrs. Lewis. The entire con-
versation lasted barely a few moments, yet it had a devastating ef-
fect on me. Sure, I knew Coach Lewis was sick. I knew his illness
was life-threatening. But, hey, we're talking about Coach Lewis here.