Ten reasons why memoir is a compelling read

November Ever After is a memoir about Craig T. Greenlee’s days as a college jock at Marshall University in the late ‘60s/early ‘70s. He played football at MU for two seasons, but was not on the team at the time the November 14, 1970 plane crash that killed most of the Thundering Herd’s football team. As a former teammate, Greenlee knew most of the players who were on that flight.

Below you’ll find ten reasons why this memoir captivates and engages readers.

•           Previously-produced documentaries and the movie We Are Marshall are appetizers.  By      comparison, November Ever After is the full-course meal.
•          The book represents high-profile sports history with an abundance of eyewitness input.
•           The story is so amazing that it sounds like fiction, but it’s not.  This memoir goes into detail about how these events played out in real life.
•      The book’s content is rich with all the requisite ingredients needed for a provocative story line – romance, premonition, prophecy, denial, depression, revelation, relief and ecstasy.
•       November Ever After is one-of-a-kind. It’s an old story with a twist that’s new and true.
•       Find out how the devastation of the plane crash helped to avert a potentially-bloody race riot on the Marshall campus.
•       Discover what things were really like when Marshall started rebuilding its football program in the months following the November plane crash.
•         Get the truth about one of the greatest plays in college football – when Marshall scored the game-winning touchdown in the final seconds to pull off a stunning upset of Xavier University in 1971. The win came in MU’s first home game after the crash which occurred ten months earlier.
•      Learn why life would never be the same for those who were left behind in the wake of the tragedy.
•        Get an up-close-and-personal look at personal relationships with students and some of the players who perished.

For more information, check out the following resources by clicking on the links below:

Author in the news

Interview: Voices & Viewpoints on WFDD-FM 88.5, an NPR affiliate

Video: "In retrospect"

Website for November Ever After

Video for the New Year 2012: "So Thankful"

Newspaper made the right decision to run epitaph

 “The adjacent story quite obviously was written prior to the tragic air crash which took the lives of an undetermined number of Marshall University football players, coaches, athletic department personnel and fans. To have rewritten the story, to have pretended that the game 

had never been played, would have been a disservice to those who took part in it. 

Therefore, it is being presented in its entirety as an epitaph.”

Herald-Advertiser sports section

November 15, 1970

       There may have been some folks who had an issue with the Herald-Advertiser newspaper running the actual Marshall-East Carolina game story on its sports page the day after the plane crash. If there were people who did feel that way, they were wrong.

       On the front page of the section, there’s a boxed blurb positioned right above Ernie Salvatore’s sports column at the top left-hand portion of the page. This blurb, set in bold type, explained the newspaper’s reasoning for running the article as if there had been no plane crash (see enlarged quote above).

       No doubt, the widespread grief caused by the tragedy was inescapable and all too obvious. On the other hand, it wouldn’t have made much sense to ignore that a game had been played. Running that game story had nothing to do being insensitive about tragic circumstances. It was more about showing respect while at the same time honoring the team that perished. And besides, Salvatore shared his sentiments in his column. The paper’s readers were not short-changed in any manner. They got all the information they could want about the tragedy in other sections of the paper.

       In defeat and in death, the ’70 edition of the Thundering Herd set an admirable standard for playing hard and fast until the final gun. Even in the sadness of that situation, I read the story and envisioned how the game played out and realized just how close Marshall came to pulling off a gutsy comeback.

       Yes, the players were gone and never to return. That was a hard tablet to swallow. Even so, just knowing that the final outcome wasn’t decided until the closing seconds was evidence enough that despite being short-handed personnel-wise, they never gave up. The Thundering Herd left it all on the field that day at East Carolina. 

      The ’70  team gets my continuous applause.

Remember '70: Team gave its all from start to finish

        When Marshall University suffered a gut-wrenching 17-14 road loss to East Carolina in 1970, nobody knew that it would be the Herd’s final game for that season.

       A few hours after the conclusion of the East Carolina game, Marshall’s chartered jet crashed as it approached the runway at Tri-State Airport in Huntington, West Virginia. There were no survivors.

       The sadness, dismay and the shock of such a horrific event are all too obvious. Those memories from November 14, 1970 are still painful for so many people. But there’s also another side to that coin. In reviewing how the Marshall-East Carolina game played out, there’s consolation in realizing how the ’70 team gave everything it had to give until the very end.

       Here’s how it all went down:

       Marshall trailed by a field goal with about 90 seconds left to play in the game. Quarterback Ted Shoebridge commandeered a final drive that reached ECU’s 25-yard line, which was within the range of place-kicker Marcello Latjerman.

       With a little over 30 seconds remaining, there was still enough time to reach the end zone for the game-winning score. Keep in mind that back then, college football did not have overtime. Games that ended in a stalemate at the end of regulation were declared ties.

      On third-and-10 from the ECU 25, Shoebridge was flushed from the pocket and he threw a pass to running back Art Harris, who fielded the low throw on the first bounce. What happened next was a call that probably cost the Herd its best chances for pulling this one out in the closing seconds. Even though the under-thrown pass landed in close proximity to an eligible receiver, the officials called Shoebridge for intentional grounding.

      Instead of fourth-and-10 and a possible field goal attempt, Marshall faced a fourth-and-34 from midfield. Shoebridge’s next pass attempt fell incomplete which sealed the win for East Carolina.

       This game was really a microcosm of Marshall’s season. The Herd finished the year at 3-6. But the win-loss record doesn’t tell the complete story. In four of MU’s losses, the average margin of defeat was 3 ½ points. That in itself reveals a lot about the ’70 team. The Herd’s record could easily have been 7-2. This was certainly a sign that better days were coming soon.

       But then there was the plane crash, followed by the burying of MU’s dead and the painstaking process of systematically restoring a decimated football program.

 

The 1970 version of Thundering Herd left its mark

       Forty-plus years ago seem like such a long time ago. Yet, to this very day, the images from an unforgettable college semester are still crystal clear.

        It was foggy, rainy and frigid night—a night when a college lost most of its football team in a horrible plane crash. Even with the passage of so many years, the memories of the deep hurt felt by students at Marshall University and the citizens of Huntington, West Virginia can never be erased. For me, November 14, 1970 is a part of my personal history that will always produce mixed emotions whenever I think about it.

       Yes, there’s sadness and despair in remembering the sorrow caused by the tragedy. But there’s also joy in being an eye-witness. I watched and rejoiced as a decimated football program regrouped and moved forward in spite of devastating losses.

       From time to time, I’ve wondered about what Marshall football would be like if the rainy night in November turned out differently than it did.

• What if there had not been a plane crash?
• What if there had been no football recruiting scandal in 1969 that drastically reduced the Thundering Herd’s talent level?
• Why didn’t my former teammates get the same opportunity as I did to pursue my goals and dreams?
• Why am I still here?

       These are questions that I’ve pondered from time to time. But as far as I can determine, no answers are forthcoming. And besides, it’s all speculation as to what could have been, what might have been, what should have been.

       This is what I do know.

       There’s heart-warming consolation in knowing that the ’70 version of Marshall’s Thundering Herd left an indelible mark on the school and the community. Against overwhelming odds, they continued to persevere. There’s no doubt that their collective dedication and passion for the game laid the foundation for the football victories that were to come in later years.

Marshall's Memorial Fountain is a celebration of life

"They shall live on in the hearts of their families and friends forever, and this memorial records their loss to the university and the community.”

Inscription from bronze plaque at fountain plaza site

       The Memorial Student Center Fountain is a tulip-shaped sculpture which will always serve as a reminder of Marshall University’s past and its future. Located in the plaza area on the campus-side of the Student Center building, this unique landmark stands as a monument to those who perished in the November 14, 1970 plane crash that killed most of the school’s football team.

       This tragedy cut so deep because it involved more than the football team, coaching staff and school administrators. Also lost were some of the school’s strongest supporters. Doctors, attorneys, business people and civic leaders were also on board the ill-fated flight in which there were no survivors.

       The fountain serves as a monument to honor those who died, but that isn’t the sole purpose for its existence. When the fountain was dedicated a few days before the second anniversary of the crash in November 1972, sculptor Harry Bertoia made it known that his creation was more about celebrating life as opposed to mourning the tragic deaths of the crash victims.

       There’s strong symbolism associated with Memorial Fountain. The flowing waters from the fountain represent the continuation of life. Every year on November 14, the school conducts a memorial service which includes the traditional laying of the wreath at the front of the fountain. Once that part of the service is completed, the fountain’s waters are turned off until the next spring.

  

Nate Ruffin's letter to his fallen teammates