There was an article about David Humm in our paper
not long ago that touched me deeply. Those of us who have followed
Nebraska football know that David was one of the most remarkable quarterbacks
our college team has ever had. Records he set some 30 years ago still
stand. What I didn't know until recently was that he is just as remarkable
as a person as he was as a football player. I say that because David
has been engaged in a new kind of battle, and its name is Multiple
Sclerosis. What touched me so as I read the article was how David
is dealing with his challenge. As David told me in a recent conversation,
"I have lived the most incredible and exciting life anyone could
ever have asked for. That has continued through to this very day.
I just do things a little slower and a little more painfully now,
but life is good, and I intend to live it to the fullest."
During David's pro days with the Raiders, he incurred more injuries
and had more surgeries than I knew one human body could endure, so
he knows how to live with pain. Perhaps his football days were a training
ground for what he would have to endure with MS. I don't know, but
this much I do know - he just keeps going.
David plays a major role in raising his now-teenage daughter, Courtney.
She is his greatest joy. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for her.
She is a natural athlete, and participates in many sports. David finds
great satisfaction in being her side-line coach as he helps her walk
through what he calls her "life lessons," and as he told
me recently, he intends to be there for all of them.
This makes for a pretty full schedule, when you consider that, in
addition to working full time as director of marketing and sales for
a computer programming company, and working part-time as a commentator
for all the Raider games, he goes to every game his daughter plays
in, and is her on-call taxi for all her activities, sports and otherwise.
That doesn't leave much time to "rest the equipment," but
he treats his fatigue like he did in his playing days when he "took
a big hit." He just tells himself to get up and keep going, knowing
he'll feel better when he does.
Unfortunately, there are a lot of days like that. David says his friends
and his doctors get upset with him sometimes because he won't slow
down, but he refuses to give up living his life as he did when he
was well. Frankly, I'm not surprised. After all, "life is good,"
and he intends to live it to the fullest.
Family, friends, and a life of service have always been important
to David. He has spoken to literally hundreds of schools and groups,
even though he has to do it from a wheel chair. When I commented to
David not long ago about how, on that particular day, it seemed like
everyone was wanting a piece of me, he knew exactly where I was coming
from. It happens to him all the time. The only problem is, "there
just aren't that many pieces that are working any more." Then
he always adds, "but that's okay, because life is good, and I
intend to live it to the fullest."
Debilitating headaches and uncontrollable muscle spasms have taught
David to draw on a level of courage and tenacity most of us never
have need of, but for David, MS is a nuisance, not a handicap. Perhaps
that's why David can maintain his remarkable sense of humor. As he
has said many times, "I love the act of living my life,"
and nothing is going to stop him from enjoying it.
David is a legend among Raider fans, but for me it is his largeness
of spirit that makes him so special. As you might guess, I'm not the
only one who feels this way. One of his biggest "fans" was
Nurse Mary. She always came and gave him the shots he needed when
his body would go rigid with spasms, leaving him unable to move. The
shots were the only thing that would make the muscles relax, so day
or night, whenever he needed help, she would come. Shortly before
she died, she wrote David a letter that says it best of all:
"David, I have a confession to make. I had this great intention
to write an essay on why I thought you should carry the Olympic Torch.
I kept writing it in my head, and then I was going to send you a copy,
but it never got done, so let's pretend that I nominated you to carry
the Olympic Torch, okay? Now I didn't choose to do this because you
were such a great athlete or because you have all those honors and
awards. I did it because you are a gift. Just because you are. Just
because you get up out of bed every day and live the day to the fullest.
Just because if I never would have met you, I would have missed out
on some pretty important lessons on being human.
"I would not have known how much a son could love his parents
and family, how much a father could love his daughter, or how much
a man could achieve by learning how to be a true team mate while throwing
around some leather. I would have never learned how to ask a friend
for help when you need it, and not apologize, but just gracefully
and simply tell them what it means to you. I would not have known
how to make a friend feel as though they could move mountains just
because they came when asked.
"I would never have met a man who did not know the meaning of
the words, 'can't' or 'obstacle' or 'impossible.' I wouldn't know
how important mentoring and sharing life's lessons with those hoping
to follow in your footsteps can be. Nor would I know the value of
laughing as much as you can with others and at yourself. I would never
have met a guy who could have plaques, awards, trophies, ribbons,
and medals adorning his bedroom walls, but chooses instead a crucifix.
And I would never have known that you truly can be famous and humble.
"I would never have seen that for some of us you don't have to
write a New York Times top ten book on self improvement to share your
ideas - you just have to have the determination and guts to get out
of bed each morning. Yes, and you can teach without words, overheads,
charts, and theories.
"I also learned, David, that we better help each other out, because
we're all in this together. I'm glad I am in it with you. Thanks for
the lessons.
Nurse Mary
"P.S. Thanks for 'pretending' with me, David. I know if I had
submitted this (with a little more work and polishing) that you would
have been at least a finalist. But if you weren't chosen, it would
only have been because I can't write as good as you live."
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